Midnight arrived with a phone call and a woman’s scream.
Jack Bennett, who had been sleeping fitfully on the living room couch, awoke with a start. He yanked the snub-nosed .38 Special from his shoulder holster and scanned the cabin’s shadowy interior.
In the adjoining kitchen, bathed in the light from the open refrigerator, was the lovely figure of Laura Cooper.
“Sorry,” she said. “The phone…it scared me.”
The continued ringing of the phone was amplified and shrill in the small cabin space. Jack so rarely used the landline that he had forgotten about it. He shoved his gun back in its holster and climbed off the creaky leather couch. The phone sat on a nearby wooden desk that was splintered and worn at the corners. He glanced at the caller ID box.
It read: Anonymous.
Strange, he thought.
Laura watched him anxiously as he picked up the handset. He gave her a reassuring look.
“Hello?” Jack said into the receiver.
All he could hear on the other end of the line was the faint hiss of static.
“Hello,” he said again.
The volume of the static increased.
This was highly unusual. His number was unlisted and he had a call blocker device that just allowed people with a special numeric code to ring through. Only his mother and his sister had that code.
The woman he’d been hired to protect was already tightly wound; there was no need to frighten her further. So, he acted nonchalant as he hung up the phone.
“Bad connection,” he said. “Probably a wrong number.” He would check the call blocker after she went to sleep; the damned thing was probably faulty.
Laura didn't look convinced as she ran her long, perfectly manicured fingers through her long, perfectly groomed tresses. The only clothing she wore was an oversized football jersey with the Denver Bronco’s logo emblazoned on it.
Jack hated the Denver Broncos.
Her legs were long, tanned and shapely. Jack tried not to stare at them as she reached over the stovetop to turn on the kitchen light.
She caught his quick gaze anyway.
“Do me a favor,” he said. “Put some pants on if you're going to wander around the place.”
The tension in her face softened. A hint of a smile curved the edges of her lips. “Am I distracting you from your job?”
He shrugged. “I think we can both agree you have nice legs. No need to show them off to me. I'm just the hired help.”
“Unless you’re hiding some cabana boys in this dump, you’re the only game in town.”
Dump, he thought. This little cabin cost me my life savings. But he wasn’t going to tell her that. “You know, you’re always free to go and stay in a five-star hotel. Maybe one of their cabana boys will be your bodyguard.”
He knew he should have been nicer to her. She was the client, after all. But interpersonal communications had never been his strength.
The tall blonde pouted her lips affectedly, giving the cabin a quick once-over. “No need to get sensitive. Your cabin has its... charms.”
“Look, Ms. Cooper—”
“For the twentieth time, call me Laura. My mother is Ms. Cooper.”
“OK, fine. Laura. It's late. We should call it a night.”
Laura arched her back and stretched her arms over her head, revealing the shape of her ample breasts. “Oh, I'm too wound up to sleep now. Plus I'm so bored it hurts—those magazines in my room are ridiculous. Soldier of Fortune, seriously?”
Jack sighed. “There are some gossip rags in there, too.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, from like three years ago. Nobody on those covers is even married anymore.” She reached inside the open refrigerator door. “You got anything stronger than beer?”
“Afraid not.”
“It’ll have to do,” she said, and pulled out a cold one.
Jack tried not to gawk at her as she twisted off the bottle cap. Laura had the kind of body that attracted a man's eyeballs like moths ticking at light bulbs.
She caught him looking again and grinned.
Jack wasn't sure what annoyed him more: the fact that she knew she was attractive or that she knew he was attracted to her. God knows he didn't want to be. She was twenty-eight years old, which made her twenty-two years his junior. It was embarrassing. He was friends with her father, for fuck’s sake.
Laura seemed to like the attention, though. She was undoubtedly used to it; model gorgeous, whip smart, and from an affluent, influential family. Well, by Yellow Creek, California standards, that is.
Jack had grown up in Yellow Creek, long before his life in Los Angeles. He’d gone to high school with Laura’s father, Lou Cooper, who showed great ambition even then. He had campaigned hard to become class president, and— as the legend went—had won by the biggest landslide in George Washington High School’s history.
So, it was no surprise to Jack when he discovered that Lou had become an elected city council member and well-to-do dairy farm magnate.
Despite his own lack of success, Jack didn’t hold Lou’s against him. He figured the enterprising bastard had probably earned it. Plus, he’d been a loyal friend to Jack in high school, and loyalty was something rare in this life. He hadn’t spoken to Lou in over fifteen years, until a week before, when he’d contacted Jack online seeking help. After a decade on permanent disability, it had felt good to be needed by anyone, especially Lou.
And it didn’t hurt that he’d offered Jack a small fortune, either.
The phone rang again. Laura froze, staring at it like an animal transfixed by headlights.
Jack answered by the third ring. “Hello?”
He got an earful of static. Somewhere, there might have been a voice, but it was hopelessly lost in the roar of the receiver.
The line went dead.
Jack hung up and forced a smile. “Must be a problem with the phone line. I’ll contact the phone company about it.”
Laura’s eyes shone with fear. She took a long swig from her bottle and went back to the refrigerator for another. He hoped she wasn’t planning on getting drunk; their conversation was awkward enough as it was.
In fact, the whole situation was a bit… peculiar. He’d been given three conditions for employment. Firstly, he was to provide protection for Laura outside Yellow Creek city limits. Secondly, Lou had asked for complete discretion, for his family’s sake—it was a small town, after all. Thirdly, no questions asked.
The first two conditions weren’t unusual requests, but the third would have been a deal breaker for any executive protection professional. They would have insisted on knowing everything about Laura and her stalker. It explained why Lou wanted him to babysit his daughter; it was much simpler to hire a disabled cop with joint injuries who had nothing better to do.
Jack didn’t plan on looking a gift horse in the mouth, but there were some basic facts he needed in order to do his job with a modicum of efficiency. The most important question, of course, was who was he protecting Laura from?
Not much was known at this point, other than an unknown stalker had been tormenting Laura for three months. And no matter how many times she changed her number, the son of a bitch managed to track her down. Lou was convinced that it was an angry ex-boyfriend, but didn’t have anything substantive to prove his theory.
Laura had made several reports to the local police, but they didn’t take it seriously because no threats of violence had been made. Yet the emotional toll on her had been severe. She was petrified to answer her phone or leave the house alone. In fact, she was convinced the caller meant her harm.
Now, as Jack stood in his kitchen with Laura, he suddenly realized that she had been waving a beer in front of his face.
“Join me for a drink,” she said. It was a statement, not an invitation. It was pretty clear she was used to getting what she wanted.
Jack wanted to tell her ‘no’ on principle, but he supposed there were worse things than having a late-night drink with a beautiful woman. Besides, beer always made him drowsy, and he was going to need all the help he could get to fall back asleep tonight.
He reached out his hand and accepted the cool bottle.
That seemed to change her mood considerably. A familiar grin crossed her lips, as if she had just won a small victory. She said, “I don’t see a ring. No...Mrs. Bennett?”
Jack didn’t answer right away. He took a slow sip—savored it, he loved Mexican beer. It reminded him of his last trip to Acapulco. Now, the ladies there—they could be quite accommodating. He was also deciding whether or not he wanted to answer the question.
After an uncomfortable silence, he said, “Tried it once. Didn't stick.”
She raised an eyebrow, and her head tilted ever so slightly. “Did you cheat on her?”
Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you.”
“You're not very forthcoming.”
He frowned and took another sip.
She seemed to be assessing him. “Different subject then. Dad said you were an ex-cop because of an injury.” She looked him up and down. “All your parts seem to be working, as far as I can tell. Something I should know?
Jack nearly spit up his beer. “Wow. You have no filter, do you?”
“I'm just trying to get to know the person protecting me. We are living together, after all.”
“We are not living together. I’m the hired help.”
She chuckled. “Sure, keep telling yourself that. But technically we are living together. So…how are you injured?”
Jack had had enough. “Sorry, that subject isn't open for discussion.” He skulked out of the kitchen and into the living room. “Excuse me, I'm all talked out.”
He plopped down on the couch and the springs squeaked in protest. While he had tried to be civil, it was late, he was cranky, and the woman seemed to have a preternatural knack for asking the wrong questions. When he got into a mood like this, he knew it was better not to say anything at all, or he’d end up saying something he would regret.
Laura took a long, deliberate drink from her beer. Her eyes never left him. Somehow, she managed to make drinking a beer look sexy. “You know, most people on the payroll suck up to me and my family—but you don't. I like that.”
Jack fluffed up a dingy-looking feather pillow and stretched out on the couch. “I don’t think your dad hired me for my sunny disposition.”
Laura was about to respond when the phone rang again. She nearly dropped her beer. Jack was amazed at how she could switch from complete confidence to anxiety in the span of a single ring.
"It's okay," Jack said, reassuringly. "Remember, no one knows you're here.”
The phone calls were annoying him, though. It didn’t make sense. All of his business and personal calls were via cell phone. And even if a telemarketer had somehow figured out a way to get through to his cabin, they wouldn't call at this ungodly hour.
He glanced at the caller ID again. As expected, it said: Anonymous. He gave Laura the universal sign for silence and then hit the speakerphone button. "Hello," he said, hoping he sounded as irritated as he felt.
It was quiet on the other end for a few seconds—followed by static.
Laura's dark azure eyes widened with a look of horror and recognition.
"Is someone there?" Jack said, forcefully.
The static increased.
But Jack’s annoyance was overshadowed by his curiosity.
And when the man on the other end of the line finally spoke, it was so abrupt and unnerving that Jack’s whole body stiffened. The voice was cold, guttural, and seething with barely restrained rage. "Lauraaaaa…."
Laura threw her hands over her mouth, but a pathetic whimper managed to escape.
Jesus, Jack thought. That voice. No wonder she’s terrified. How the fuck did he get my number?
“Can I help you with something?” he said, not sounding nearly as calm as he wanted.
As if in answer, the static increased in intensity.
Jack gritted his teeth, “Who the hell is this?”
Laura’s face had gone two shades whiter. She mouthed the words it’s him.
The chilling voice repeated her name in the same manner, “Lauraaaaa.”
She started to reply, but Jack held out his hand to stop her. He spoke instead, “There is no Laura here. How did you reach this number?”
There was a click on the other end—followed by a dial tone.
Laura’s eyes welled with tears and her face shook with emotion. “I thought this was a fucking safe house! What the hell are we paying you for? We have to get out of here.” She started to rush for her room, but Jack caught her by the arm. She gave a startled yelp and he pulled his hand away.
He held his hands out. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” he said. “But I need you to stay calm. You’re safe. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
He spoke gently this time. “Listen, the fence is electrified. And I’ve got motion detectors and cameras installed. No one can get within 50 yards of this cabin without me knowing about it. Okay?”
Jack wished he was as confident as he sounded. He was stunned by this turn of events. He needed time to process how this could happen, time to figure out the best course of action.
Tears spilled from Laura’s eyes as she began to pace. “I knew he’d find me again. I knew it.”
Jack said, “I might be able to pull in a favor and get a trace if he calls again. But it’s going to take a while to set up.”
Laura looked beaten as she plopped onto a bar stool at the kitchen counter, her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I already tried that with the phone company. They couldn’t trace it—said he probably used pay phones.”
Jack grimaced. He’d had enough of this bullshit. He wanted answers.
“Look,” he said, sitting at the stool next to her. “Your dad led me to believe that this wasn’t a serious threat—told me you were overreacting. He thinks you just need a couple weeks of protection to feel safe again and this thing will blow over.”
“Fucking armchair psychology from the dairy king,” she said. “I’d laugh if it wasn’t so pathetic.”
Jack glanced at his watch. "Regardless, somehow this guy tracked you down in twenty-two hours. That means this isn’t some run-of-the mill scorned ex-lover. The only thing that makes any sense is that he had some inside help, but the problem with that theory is that there is no one he could have gotten the information from—much less this quickly.”
Laura continued to avert her eyes, which spoke volumes.
He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Laura, this is serious.”
Reluctantly, she looked up at him.
Jack said, “If our security here has been compromised, I can't afford to be in the dark. For your protection, I need to know what I’m up against here.”
Laura turned away again, buried her face in her hands and began to weep silently.
Jack continued to speak softly, “I know you’ve been through the wringer. And I’m sorry. But I need some answers.”
It took several moments for her to regain her composure. He handed her a napkin from the counter and she dabbed her eyes. Finally, she said, “Everything I’ve told you is true, OK? He finds me no matter what I do. The police don’t take me seriously and my dad thinks I’m nuts.”
“That’s not true,” Jack said. “Although, I can tell he’s worried about you.”
Laura laughed, but there was no humor there. “He’s not worried about me. He’s worried about bad press. Don’t you get it? He doesn’t want any unsavory attention directed at his family right now because he’s planning to run for Mayor. He’s just wants me out of his hair for a while and hopes I’ll come to my senses.”
Jack wasn’t sure how to respond. So, he didn’t.
Laura’s face hardened and her eyes narrowed. “You may have known my dad back in high school, but you don’t know him like I do. He only hired you because he knew you wouldn’t ask questions. He doesn’t want me to tell anyone the truth.”
“The truth?”
The kitchen light flickered twice…and went out. They were suddenly cloaked in darkness.
“Oh my God,” she muttered.
Jack jumped up and tried a different light switch. Nothing. The electricity was out.
“It’s okay. We’re in the mountains. Happens all the time up here. Usually comes back on in a minute or two. Don’t worry, the cameras and fence have backup batteries. Plus, I've got a generator in the garage, if we need it.”
The phone rang. Laura gasped.
“Don’t say anything,” Jack said, moving toward the desk with the phone. He hit the speakerphone button.
The soft crackle of static never sounded so ominous.
Jack didn’t speak. Your move, asshole.
Finally, the voice returned, like a whisper at the dark edge of his mind. “Do you... remember...”
Jack could see the whites of Laura’s eyes, shining in the dark. She stared at the phone in horror.
“...your promise?”
She was trembling now, but Jack couldn’t tell if it was terror, rage, or both.
Then, amidst an endless stream of eerie buzzing, the voice said, “Do you? Lauraaaaa?”
She lunged at the phone, “What fucking promise, Eddie? What the fuck do you want!?!”
Jack rushed to her but she was already smashing the phone against the corner of the desk with all of her might.
“Stop!” Jack said, and yanked it from her.
She collapsed to the floor, sobbing.
Jack checked the phone, but there wasn't even a dial tone. She had broken it.
Cheap Japanese piece of shit.
He tossed the useless hunk back onto the desk and offered his hand to Laura. She smacked it away. “Leave me alone, goddamit."
“I can't do that. Your friend has my number. I'm officially involved. Now please…get off the floor.” He offered her his hand again, and she took it.
He led her to the couch as he spoke. “No more bullshit, Laura. You called him Eddie. Who is this guy?”
She sighed as if a pressure valve had been released inside of her. “His name…is Eddie Verano. Haven't seen him since high school. He sat behind me in Social Studies—always smelled like ass. Had a thing for me; it was disgusting."
Jack sat next to her. "OK, we're getting somewhere. What happened?"
She looked apprehensive. "I need a cigarette.”
Jack nodded and pulled out a pack of Lucky Strikes from the front pocket of his chambray work shirt—lit it with his lighter, watched as the tip began to glow in the darkness.
“Go on,” he said.
She took a long drag before answering, as if the inhalation might somehow embolden her. When she spoke, it didn’t seem directed at anyone in particular. “It was just a prank…”
“A prank?”
“Katie, Oliver and Candace. They were my buddies back then. They were behind it—told Eddie I had a crush on him. They convinced him I’d say ‘yes’ if he asked me out.”
Jack’s eyes had finally adjusted to the shadowy room; shafts of moonlight beamed through the living-room window and crawled across the floor. He studied Laura’s face as she spoke; her gaze seemed to be focused far beyond the walls of the room.
“We all thought it was hysterical. And it was. Poor bastard actually thought I’d go out with him.”
Jack sat forward. “Did you?”
Laura let smoke flow from her lips and curl back through her nostrils. “Yeah. For a month, if you can believe that. By the fourth week, the whole school was in on the joke. Well...everybody but Eddie. He spent every dime he had trying to impress me. Stupid son of a bitch.”
Jack reached for a cigarette of his own. “So this Eddie Verano returns ten years later for revenge—that it?”
She turned and met his eyes for the first time in several minutes. “Yes.” There was barely concealed venom in her tone.
Jack lit his cigarette and pocketed the lighter. “Seems pretty straightforward to me. Why doesn’t your father believe you?”
Laura slumped back on the couch and closed her eyes, shaking her head. “God help me…”
Jack’s patience was at an end. “Why?” he said through gritted teeth.
Her eyes remained closed. “You’ll think I’m insane, Jack.”
“Damn it, why?”
Laura leapt up from the couch, startling him. “Because he’s dead, OK! All because of the stupid fucking prank.”
Jack stared at her hard. “What?”
She shook her head mournfully. “We set up a video camera at Barkley Park. I lured Eddie there by telling him I’d always wanted to make love under the stars.”
“Candace, Oliver and Katie hid in the bushes, and watched us as I got the idiot naked. As soon as he had a boner, I gave a signal and they all jumped out, grabbed his clothes and we all ran away—laughing our asses off. He screamed something at us, but we couldn’t stop laughing long enough to hear him.
“The next day Eddie showed up at the high school cafeteria, and found us at our usual spot. He just stood there. Staring at me. He had tears in his eyes. And for the first time, I felt really bad for what we’d done. The whole place went quiet and none of us knew what to do.
“But when he pulled out a handgun and pointed it at me, everyone started screaming and running in every direction. I didn’t move and he didn’t say a word, he just turned the gun around and shot himself in the face. I stood there with pieces of his brains in my hair...on my face...I watched him die. Staring at me from the floor with the one eye he had left. Don’t you get it? I hurt him more than any gun could.”
Jack’s mind was racing; he remembered hearing about the suicide from his sister years ago. It was big news in a town like Yellow Creek. He had a thousand questions. “Jesus Christ.”
Laura couldn’t meet his gaze.
Jack said, “Your dad never mentioned any of this.”
Laura shrugged. “Of course not. It’s a stain on our esteemed family’s reputation. He pretends it never happened.”
Jack said, “OK, let’s talk facts here. This person on the phone—whoever it is—asked one thing specifically. He wanted to know if you remembered your promise. What does that mean, exactly?”
Laura waved her hands angrily. “I don’t know! He keeps asking the same fucking question…over and over. And that’s not even the worst part.”
Jack wasn’t sure he wanted to know the worst part. He reached for the ashtray on his coffee table—pulled it closer. “Let’s hear it.”
“Everyone who started the prank—Katie, Oliver and Candace—all disappeared under ‘mysterious circumstances.’ And all over the past three months. Katie and I never left Yellow Creek, but Candace and Oliver lived in two different states.”
Jack stared at her, uncomprehending. “This all happened in the past three months?”
She nodded. “I haven’t spoken to any of them since graduation. When I finally figured out it was Eddie, I tried to reach them, but all of them seem to have disappeared. I got my first call on the tenth anniversary of Eddie’s death.”
Jack ran his fingers through his thick, graying hair. “And you haven’t mentioned any of this to the police?”
“Absolutely not,” she said, bending down to crush the butt of her cigarette into the ashtray. “Dad threatened to cut me out of his will if I did. Said there was no reason to dredge up the past. Besides, no one would believe me anyway—they’d cart me off to an asylum. I have to admit, he’s probably right.”
The woman’s story was so perverse it was almost funny. “Yeah—they’re not going to believe in the zombie killer angle, if that’s what you mean. But this stalker of yours may have been close to Eddie—hell, it could be some vengeful family member for all we know.”
“It’s Eddie,” she said. “He sounds…horrifying, but I still recognize his voice.”
“You don’t really believe a zombie is after you?”
“No,” she said, glaring back at him. “A revenant is after me.”
“A what?”
“A revenant. I’ve read all about them since this began. They’re similar to zombies, except they retain their intelligence, and have supernatural powers. They’re driven by vengeance or love, or a desire so strong it can overcome death.”
A loud crash came from somewhere inside the cabin; it shook the entire structure. Laura screamed and spun toward the sound.
Jack snatched the .38 from his holster and turned to her. “That came from the garage.”
“It’s him...it’s him.”
Jack reached into his front pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “Here, take this. Call 911 and tell them there’s a crime in progress—stay on the phone with the operator. Hide in the closet in your room. Don’t come out unless I call you.”
“But—” she started to protest.
“Now!” he said, giving her a shove.
Her face was blanched, eyes wide and shining—not with tears, but with terror. She ran.
Jack heard a scraping sound from inside the garage. None of this made any sense. The motion detectors should have gone off. But there wasn’t time to contemplate that.
There was an intruder in the garage and he could already hear the door to enter the cabin being tested. It rattled wildly for a moment...then stopped.
Jack grabbed the wooden chair next to his desk and barricaded the door. He faced it squarely, taking a standard police shooting stance, his knees flexed at an angle and his arms extended. He hated the fact that the .38 shook in his hands.
What have I gotten myself into? He thought. This gig was supposed to be easy money. He was no goddamn hero. He’d never had the stomach for hazardous situations. It was why he’d faked his disability in the first place. Risk his life for a police officer’s shit pay? A fool’s game.
Outsmarting the system had been easy. He claimed his wrists, hands, left knee, back and neck were injured in an on-duty traffic accident. Sure, he’d been hurt, but it was only minor whiplash and he’d recovered in less than a month. He greatly exaggerated his physical problems so that he didn’t have to go back to work.
Ultimately, he received a workers’ compensation settlement for $92,000 and an annual disability pension of $47,000 from the Employees Retirement System.
Easy money. Easy life. Just the way he liked it.
One thing’s for sure, he told himself. If I survive this deal, my days as a bodyguard are over. I’m too old for this shit.
There was a terrible crash as the large plate glass window in the living room shattered behind him. He spun around to see something that resembled a human being on the floor. It rose up in the darkness.
He thought he heard Laura cry out from the guest room, but then realized that the terrified sounds were his own.
The mutilated thing leapt toward him.
All of Jack’s training and experience hadn’t prepared him for this. At that moment, he realized that everything Laura had said was true. He fired at the creature until his .38 was empty. The gunfire in the confined space was deafening.
But the bullets had no effect.
The nightmarish thing cornered him. Jack tried to make a break for it, but in one swift motion its powerful arms were around him, lifting him off of the floor as if he were a child. He felt some of his ribs crack as the thing crushed him in its vice-like grip, and he cried out in a wave of unspeakable agony.
He glimpsed strange movement all over its body, and it took him a moment to process what he was seeing in the half light of the moon.
It was covered head to toe in wriggling maggots.
He gazed in horror and disbelief at the walking nightmare as it squeezed harder and harder. Finally, Jack’s spine severed with a terrible snap, paralyzing him instantly. When it finally dropped him, he hit the floor like a slab of beef in a slaughterhouse.
He watched helplessly as the thing that was once Eddie Verano moved purposely towards the room where Laura was hiding.
Laura’s hands shook so badly she could barely hold the cell phone. Not that it mattered. She couldn't get a signal in the back of the closet.
She’d have to leave the safety of her hiding place if she wanted reception. But then she would risk being heard talking or moving around. And even if she got through to 911, no one would be able to reach them up in the mountains for an hour at best.
No, she thought. Better to stay hidden and hope to God that Jack was able to kill Eddie during all that gunfire. She would do exactly what Jack said; not move unless he came for her.
If I live through this, God, I swear I’ll pray every day. I’ll atone for what I’ve done somehow. And I’ll move out of the fucking country. We’ll see how well that fucker does trying to get across the Atlantic.
The phone in Laura’s hand rang.
It startled her so much she dropped it to the floor. She scrambled to stop it from ringing and tapped the decline button several times.
But the call wouldn’t be declined.
An unnatural hissing noise came from the other end. And there was something else, too. It was as if the energy of the static pulled together; and from it formed the sound of screams.
A familiar voice: “Lauraaaaa… do you remember your promise?”
She flung the phone away as if it had burned her. Then she hugged her knees and began to cry quietly. This was all about tormenting her, wasn’t it? He could have killed her at any time—but he wanted to save her for last. He wanted her to know it was him, to remember what she’d done. And most importantly of all, he wanted her to know he was coming for her.
She jumped at the sound of a door being torn off of its hinges.
Oh my God. He’s in the room.
She backed into the corner of the closet as strange, foreign noises born of fear emanated from her throat.
A large shadow appeared through the wooden slats of the closet door.
A ragged whisper through the slats: “Do you remember your promise?”
Laura screamed as the closet door was torn away as easily as rice paper. She wet herself upon seeing the grotesque thing looming above her. Half of its blackened, rotted head was missing, and the remaining half twitched and squirmed with an orgy of maggots. They fell to the ground in writhing clumps.
The revenant yanked her from the closet with the fury of a tempest and pinned her to the floor.
“Why did you come back?” she shouted. “What promise? What the hell do you want?”
Eddie’s remaining eye looked deeply into hers as he tore open her jersey, exposing her heaving chest. She shrieked in unbearable pain as his rotted fingers dug into the flesh between her breasts to expose the bone beneath.
When he spoke, Laura saw dark things wriggling within the ruined shape of his mouth. “You promised me your heart…”
END