The Black Parade

I began walking down the alley, my heels clicking a funky staccato down the corridor, when I felt an itching tightness between my shoulders as if someone were watching me. I glanced behind me, only to be greeted by darkness and the distant wail of sirens. I turned and kept walking, this time a little faster, but the same tense sensation continued. I stopped.

 

All at once, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I no longer had the sneaking suspicion that something was watching me—I knew it. Cold sweat gathered on the small of my back and the itchy sensation of fear mixed with adrenaline hummed beneath my skin.

 

As if on cue, I heard a low growl seeping outward from the dark corner of the alley behind me. Probably a stray dog. No need to panic.

 

Squaring my shoulders, I turned around with a harsh expression on my face, prepared to out-stare the animal, and simply froze in place. The pair of eyes glaring at me from the shadows were a bright, almost hellish red. Last time I checked, dogs didn’t have glowing eyes.

 

Its claws scraped against the concrete as it approached and finally walked into the dim light overhead. I had been half-right. The thing was shaped like a dog, but it was unlike any canine I’d ever seen. On all four limbs, it had to be at least four feet tall and was covered from head to toe in shaggy black fur. Saliva dripped from its open jaws in globs, framing the razor sharp fangs. It almost distracted me from the acrid smell of sulfur that permeated the air and the steam that appeared to be rising from its very skin. There was no doubt in my mind that this thing had been sent specifically for me. I was damn sure it was not of this world. I’d fought one of these things before.

 

It was a hellhound.

 

I swallowed to wet my suddenly-dry throat as the muscles coiled around the beast’s shoulders when it prepared to attack. Well, being scared wasn’t going to do me any good. Tossing off the cumbersome purse around my shoulders, I clenched my hands into fists and drew my energy out from where it rested inside me. My mouth formed an unpleasant smile.

 

“Alright, Scooby. Come get some.”

 

Snarling, the beast lunged straight for me in a deadly arc.

 

“In the name of the Father, I reject!”

 

The hound smashed into me with what felt like the force of a Mack truck, taking me right off my feet. I slammed into the ground on my back, hands blocking my upper body. The shield had worked. The creature snapped at me with its huge jaws, but an invisible force kept it from touching me. Still, it had me pinned beneath its huge body and the shield wouldn’t hold forever. I needed a plan and fast.

 

Grimacing, I summoned as much strength as I could and shoved my arms up into the thing’s face. The shield forced it several feet away from me. The hound scuttled against the ground to get back on its feet. It gave me a couple of seconds to think. I needed to be on the offense.

 

I split my shield into several shards the way Michael had taught me and threw out my hands.

 

“Strike!”

 

One shard flew through the air like an arrow just as the creature raced towards me. The attack sliced down the right side of its body, spilling black blood onto the ground, but it kept coming. I threw myself to the side too late as it jumped at me. Its claws scored deep scratches across my right arm. Pain lanced through me as if I’d been burned with a red-hot poker. Shit!

 

The hound regrouped, rushing me again. I threw another two shards at it, this time slashing its left front paw and part of its spine. The beast stumbled as it ran but still crashed into me. I hit the ground again, knocking the air out of my lungs, too stunned to put up another shield. The hound snapped at my face but I rolled, crying out as one of its paws grazed my stomach before I could get away.

 

I felt something wooden beneath my shoulder. I glanced downward at the pile of trash I’d fallen into and found a broken broom handle. As the hellhound prepared for its final attack, I ripped the cross off my neck and shoved it into the tip of the splintered wood. The hound leapt, razor-sharp teeth aiming for my throat. I thrust the handle up into its massive chest.

 

The improvised stake pierced its shaggy hide and a sharp hissing sound emitted from where the cross buried itself in its insides. The hound convulsed in its death throes, still trying to bite me. My arms were too busy holding the stake to stop it from biting one side of my neck. I cried out again as its fangs scraped my skin, spilling blood. Just when I thought it would tear out my throat, two impossibly strong hands wrapped around its jaws and pulled them apart until I heard the loud snap of its skull cracking.

 

The great creature went limp and collapsed beside me, dead. In seconds, it disintegrated into ashes, leaving a steaming black stain on the ground. Michael reached down and helped me up, his face losing its righteous fury to give way to concern. It wasn’t until I was standing unsteadily on my feet that I realized he had rushed out of a shower to help me. He was clad only in a towel. Huh. Interesting.

 

“You’re hurt,” he said, green eyes raking over my form.

 

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