Novels2Search
Mostly Dead [A Paranormal Urban Fantasy]
2. I Should Have Brought My Coat ♥

2. I Should Have Brought My Coat ♥

“I don’t hear anything,” Jean replied.

I lifted my hand with the universal sign for “shut the hell up.”

There was an eternity of silence, and then… something shifted. A can rolled out from around a corner. Then there was the sound of claws on metal. A garbage can. Not too unusual to find lost demons rummaging for leftovers. But something was wrong. The sound was... wrong.

I signaled them to stay back and moved forward, every step deliberate, avoiding the slightest noise. Touching the ground, I confirmed it. More rift-soot. Except this time my hand was covered. This was no small fission.

I was a few feet from the corner when I felt something sticky under my feet. It wasn’t until the streetlamp flashed again that I saw it. Blood. Not the type of blood you wanted to see alone at night. Demonic pale blood, almost white. My breathing stopped and I froze. The streetlamp flashed again, and the carnage illuminated around me. I was standing in the middle of countless chunks of flesh, bone, and blood. This was the demon I was hunting—something had gotten to it before I could. I heard the sound of a low growl, scraping, and wet gnashing teeth in the darkness.

I slowly started walking backward toward the twins. Inch by inch, I moved back with the silence of a trained cat burglar.

“Hey! What’s taking you?” One of them shouted from behind me.

The alley went silent and my face must have turned pale as the moon.

I frantically held up my hand again, mouthing for them to be quiet. We stood there in silence for a heartbeat.

Maybe it didn’t hear them. Maybe it went away. Where are you?

As my body flew sideways across the street and slammed into the hood of an abandoned car, I got the answer to my question. Blood stained my shirt as adrenaline quickly numbed the pain. It was going to be a long, cold night. Too cold for this time of year. I should have brought my coat.

Gritting my teeth against the sharp stab of pain, I pushed myself off the dented hood of the car, scanning the murky shadows for any sign of the demon. My mind raced, cycling through every survival tactic I’d ever learned, but none seemed promising against a creature that had just massacred its own kind with such brutal efficiency.

The twins crouched behind a dumpster, their eyes wide with terror. I gestured wildly for them to run, to get as far from this nightmare as they could. But as they turned to flee, the air trembled with the heavy, deliberate steps of the beast.

The world grew colder, thick with the scent of iron and fear. From the darkness, it emerged—towering, its form grotesquely twisted, skin a sickly pale that seemed to glow under the flickering streetlamp. Its eyes, deep red, fixed on me with a predator’s focus. I knew then there was no outrunning this fate.

I drew the silver sword from my belt, the last sliver of hope. It had seen better days. But then again, so had I. My arms felt like lead, yet I raised the weapon, steadying my breath. The demon laughed, a sound like cracking bones. It moved with unnatural speed, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The clash was brief. My blade met its mark, slicing through thick flesh, but the demon was swifter, more ruthless. Its claws raked across my chest, tearing through flesh and bone with sickening ease. Pain exploded through my body, a raw, searing agony that drowned out all else.

I really should have brought my coat.

With a guttural roar, it lifted me by the neck, my feet dangling helplessly. The world blurred, the edges of my vision darkening. I could feel its breath, cold and foul, as it leaned close, its lips peeling back into a gruesome smile.

With a violent thrust, it hurled me through the air like a ragdoll. Time slowed as I spun, the world a dizzying swirl of lights and shadows. I flew through the wooden railing of the nearby dock with a splintering crash, my body wracked under the impact.

With a strength I didn’t know I possessed, I pushed myself to my feet. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest, but I forced my trembling legs to move. My instincts took over, guiding me through the chaos and pain. The demon charged once more, its black eyes gleaming with malice.

With a guttural roar that felt more primal than human, I confronted the demon head-on. My body moved on instinct, sidestepping just as its claws swiped the air where I stood a heartbeat ago. The silver blade in my hand flashed once before it buried itself deep into the demon’s chest.

Its scream tore through the night, a sound sharp enough to freeze the blood. The demon convulsed, its twisted form casting jagged shadows that writhed across the ground, the splattered blood gleaming like molten silver as it pooled around the beast.

I fell to my knees beside it, body shaking from adrenaline and pain. I caught sight of Jac and Jean peering out from behind the dumpster, their faces ghostly in the moonlight. One of them raised a trembling hand in a hesitant wave, as pale and uncertain as the night itself.

But my victory was fleeting, slipping away as a shadow loomed over me. The demon, stubborn in its death, rose one last time, my blade still lodged in its chest.

It trembled like a dying man, but the hatred in its eyes cut through the haze, sharp and cold. With one last spiteful swipe, its claws raked from my neck to my abdomen. The pain hit like a hot iron to the flesh, searing and immediate. I stumbled back, gripping my neck as blood spilled between my fingers, the world fading to a blur at the edges.

My legs gave way, and I tumbled, the broken railing of the dock offering no resistance as I toppled over it. The icy water below embraced me with an unforgiving grip, the salt biting into my wounds like a thousand tiny daggers.

The weight of my soaked clothes pulled me down, tugging at me like the hands of the damned, but the bulk I’d added over the years—an accumulation of bad habits and worse decisions—kept me afloat, just skimming the edge of the abyss. Strength slipped away, my vision a narrowing tunnel of shadowy nothingness. The last thing I saw before the cold took me was a crumpled cigarette pack drifting down to the bottom of the ocean, forgotten and adrift in the vast, uncaring void. The darkness watched, indifferent, before it swallowed me whole.

My body floated in the water, a silhouette of my former life. The waves pushed at me, relentless and indifferent.

And then, stillness. Not the gentle lull of a sleepy afternoon, where the world sighed with the weight of its dreams. Nor the hallowed hush of a library, where secrets slumbered between the pages of forgotten books.

No, this stillness was ancient—a stillness that belonged to crumbling ruins and hollowed-out cities, where memories didn’t dare to tread.

And in that stillness, as if he had always been and always would be, stood a man.