My heart is racing and I reach for my walkie on my belt, yanking it free. Water drips from the thing, and nothing happens when I push the button to talk. What a piece of shit.
I exhale and step back, water sloshing around my feet. I don’t have my gun, but I’ll be damned before I give up. I blink, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the dark, and pick up a rock, ready to bash whatever attacked me over the head.
Clouds move over the moon, offering just enough light for me to get a glimpse of my surroundings. The ravine is steep on either side. I could scramble up, but if those things are at the top, I’ll be walking into a trap.
Shivering, I run through the water and jump onto land the first chance I get. I shake my walkie, trying to get the water out of it, and press the communication button again. This time I hear static.
“This is Detective Bisset requesting backup immediately,” I say. Someone answers, but I can’t make out what they say in return. Chances are, they couldn’t make out what I said either.
“Just fucking help me,” I mutter through gritted teeth. “Get your ass here and help me.” A strange sensation runs through me, leaving me a tad disoriented. It’s a wonder I’m still standing after the night I’ve had, actually.
I clip the walkie back on my belt and pick my way up the side of the ravine. Teeth chattering, I look around. Whatever jumped from the trees is still out here. And it’s not one psychotic killer, it’s two.
And all I have is a fucking rock.
I push my shoulders back and hold my hand to the side, ready. It won’t be that long before someone notices I’m missing. Backup will be here soon, and more than anything, I’d love to have the fuckers subdued on the ground by the time it gets here.
I move to the clearing, and clouds roll over the moon. My vision darkens, and the forest turns to tangles of black before my eyes can adjust. Blinking feverishly, I smell him before I see him.
Sulfur.
There’s no mistaking the scent. It’s strong and sickening, filling my nostrils and making my stomach hurt. Brandishing the rock like a weapon, I whirl around and bash him over the head. The thing stumbles back, dropping a blood-covered knife from his hands. He falls to the ground, scrambling away.
It looks like a man, but with glowing red eyes and a mouth full of sharp teeth. Blood stains his face, crusted around his mouth.
“You’re under arrest,” I say, trading the rock for the knife. “Don’t fucking move.”
He jumps forward, teeth bared, and grabs me by the shoulders. His nails dig into my skin and he brings his mouth to my neck, trying to bite me. I fight against him and realize he has inhuman strength. He shoves me back against a tree and I have no choice but to use the knife.
I bring my hand up, intending to stab him in the shoulder. It would cause enough pain to distract him but not seriously harm him. And then his teeth make contact with my flesh. I jerk back, and the knife plunges into his heart.
He steps back and looks down at the knife. What the hell? How is he…no…there’s no way. The knife is in his heart. He should be dead. Or at the very least, panicking because there is a fucking knife in his chest.
I watch with wide eyes, trying to wrap my head around the fact this thing isn’t human. The one behind me takes advantage of my shock and grabs me by my shoulders, throwing me back against the tree. My head hits the trunk, and pain radiates through my body, causing white stars to flash before my eyes.
“You’re assaulting a police officer,” I force out, trying to push through the pain. Nausea twists deep inside my stomach, both from the sudden splitting headache and the stench of these murderers in front of me. “Stop before you—”
The man who shoved me moves forward with freaky speed. His face is youthful and almost handsome, save for the glowing red eyes. He inhales deeply, smelling me. He tips his head, confused, then parts his lips. Fangs move down from inside his gums, covering his front teeth.
Fuck, I need that drink.
I bend my knees up and kick him hard in the chest. He goes back on his ass, and it’s all I need to get up and make a run for it. I make it fifty yards before he catches up to me. He tackles me, and we both go to the ground. I twist, bringing my wrist up in a swift movement. Using the palm of my hand, I shove his nose up into his head. He snorts and backs off, licking the blood that drips from his nostrils.
“Sick,” I say out loud, and clamor up and away. I race through the woods, stopping only when I’ve put a good distance between us. I duck behind a tree, trying to catch my breath.
I’ve either gone crazy or everything I’ve believed in has been a big fat motherfucking lie.
Gargoyles.
Whatever the hell those things are.
“What is happening?” I whisper, still panting.
I’ve gone deeper into the nature park than I intended, and I need to double back in order to make it out alive. If those things ran when the wannabe storm chasers walked up on them, chances are they don’t want to be seen by a bunch of people. I pull my radio from my belt again, giving it another try. I get nothing but static this time, and flick it off, not wanting the noise to give away my location.
I peer around the tree, scanning my surroundings. The forest is silent. It’s too cold for crickets, and too late for birds. A slight wind blows, causing little droplets of water to fall from the remaining dead leaves clinging to the trees. I hold my breath and wait for it to stop. I need to know where these things are.
A minute or two passes before I move, going just a few feet before stopping again. I stay close to a large tree trunk, watching and waiting. Something moves to my right. I crouch down, blindly feeling around the forest floor for a weapon. All I can come up with are soggy branches, slimy from being under wet leaves all winter long.
Another minute passes. And then another. And another.
Holding my breath, I dodge out a few feet and move to another tree. It’ll take forever to get back to the park this way, but it beats having those things sink their teeth into me.
The ravine is in sight, and I know I’m close. I pause, listening again while trying to decide if I should move painstakingly through the woods or make a run for it. Before I can decide, the creatures surround me.
And this time, there are three.
I’m fucked. Three human men…yeah, I’d take my chances. But whatever these things are…they’re not human. Not anymore. They’re too fast, and too strong. The one I hit over the head and stabbed is encroaching on me, seemingly unbothered by the blood dripping down his head or the gushing hole in his chest.
For the first time in the history of my career, I feel hopeless. These things are going to kill me, drink my blood, and pull my bones from my body. Tiffany will take photos of my corpse, and then what? I have no family to press the case. No one to mourn me. A handful of coworkers will show up to my funeral, say some kind words about how dedicated I was, and that’ll be it. I’ll be shelved as a cold case for the rest of eternity.
But that doesn’t mean I’ll go out easy. I’ll make every moment count until my final one, swinging, kicking, fighting.
“Bring it, douchebags,” I say, and ball my fists.
The closest one comes at me, and I greet him with a punch to the side of his face. He staggers back, giving me just enough time to bring my knee up and hit him hard in the dick. I shove him to the ground and spin, kicking another in the chest. He falls back into the third, who pushes him over and lunges for me.
I try to move out of the way but can’t. He grabs me by my hair and yanks me back. I reach up and dig my nails into the flesh on his hands, madly trying to break his hold. He drags me back through the mud. I kick and thrash, doing everything in my power to get away.