Blood Lust: A Supernatural Horror

BOOK: Blood Lust: A Supernatural Horror
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Blood Lust

A Novel
by

JE Gurley

 

 

 

This book is dedicated to my loving wife, Kim, who understands how seriously deranged a writer can be and still loves me. For all those long hours you spend editing my manuscripts, finding the mistakes I can never spot, thank you my love.

 

   I also would like to thank fellow horror authors Weston Ochse and Jonathan Maberry for all their great advice and their friendship.

 

 

 

JE Gurley

 

12-15-11

 

Tucson, AZ

 

 

 

1

 

D
eath
was the
furthermost
thing
from
Patricia Stewart’s mind
as she
danced
out of the shower
swaying
her lithe, naked body
to a tune
by some girl band whose name she could not re
call
.
The
catchy
melody
had been
running through her head
through
out
her date
with Sian
, the new young intern
from her
o
ffice. He had been a perfect gentleman
all night
holding her hand tenderly as he
escort
ed
her to her
front
door after their
innocuous
dinner and movie date, kissing her lightly on the cheek
as they parted
; n
o untoward pressure
, n
o awkward
hormonal
groping.
Patricia
liked that. Too many of her dates
had
turned into free for alls with her resorting to all the wrestling moves her
older
brothers had taught her to discourage an overzealous suitor. She desperately wanted the right man to come along; would
willingly
sleep with him eventually
. She was no virgin
, but she would not be an easy conquest
, not again
.

She
hummed along with the song
, smiling as sh
e
thought
of Sian. She thought
that
just
maybe Sian was the right man.
His
attentive
hazel eyes spoke of unplumbed depths of passion
and his wide, quick smile advertised his quick wit
.
A
familiar tingly sensation in her loins
brought a blush to her face
and
she
giggled aloud
.

“I feel like a schoolgirl,” she said aloud.

She slipped on
a pair of
tiny white
panties
with red hearts running along the waistband
and began to brush her
auburn,
shoulder-length
hair
in front of the steam
y
mirror
,
diligently
counting each stroke
. A sudden chill raised goose bumps on
the
damp flesh of the
back of
her neck.
At
first,
she thought it was just a hormon
al
rush from the night
’s sexual tension
. T
hen s
he
realized she
had left the living room window open since it was a cool night. The room had definitely
grown cooler
and a horrible smell
from the alley
invaded the room
through the open window. She
w
ould
have to
remember to
close it before going to bed.

A shadow fell
across
her.
At
first,
Patricia
thought the bathroom li
g
ht had flickered
, prelude to another of the al
l-
too
-
frequent brownouts
the city had been experiencing
lately
.
She
glanced in
to
the
moisture-
streaked
mirror and
noticed
movement
behind her
.
She
slowly raised her hand and made one swipe down the mirror
to clear it
of condensation
, revealing
eyes, horrible, red baleful eyes, malevolent and cold, staring back at her above her own reflection. She turned
but it was too late
for
even a scream.
A flash of m
ovement,
barely
a blur,
quick and unstoppable
,
and her throat burned
as if on fire
.
Patricia
began to choke on her own blood.
At that moment, fear rose in her with the foul taste of bile.
She had been frightened
before
but had never known such fear
as this
.
It began in her stomach and spread to her arms and legs
, paralyzing her body
.
She could not move. She could not resist.
Her assailant
jerked t
he brush
from her hair
and
shoved
her against the sink
, bruising her leg
but she could not feel the pain.
T
hen t
he shadow was upon her, feeding greedily at her
open
wound
, the incongruous sound
of
a dog
lapping
at a water dish.
She
could feel hot fetid breath on her neck
, the raspy tongue
caressing
her
bruised
flesh.
She grew
confused when she
saw her
reflection
in the
blood-splattered
mirror, head lolling
eerily
to one side, a gray monster embracing her.
Patricia
closed her eyes to shut out the horrible sight and never opened them again.

T
he gray shadow lifted
Patricia
as easily as one might a
small
child
, bounded across the floor
and leaped out the
open
window
, leaving no record of its coming except for Patricia’s
still hot
blood staining
the
pure white tile and porcelain. Her
hairbrush
, blood spattered
as well
, rested in the red-rimmed sink;
reddish-brown
hairs ripped from her head
were
embedded in the
nylon
bristles
.

As silent as a shadow, the gray killer soared into the dark night, struggling slightly with its
limp
burden. Over roof
tops
and along deserted streets it flew toward its destination, its thirst only whetted by its quick sampling
of human blood
. Soon, it would feast on its victim’s blood more leisurely, preparing for the days to come.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2

 

I
stood
in
the
bathroom
door
and peered in
,
my
knuckles white from grip
ping
the doorframe
.
Death
, pain and suffering were
no stranger
s
to me but I
felt
woozy as I surveyed the scene before me.
Blood splattered
the
white tile floors and
white
walls
. T
he
sink
resembled
some
macabre
Rorschach
inkblot test
.
I stared at the pattern and saw death written there.
Crimson rivulets
stained
the pink flower
s
dotting the white
shower curtain.
C
ongealed
ruby
stalactites frozen mid drip
hung
suspended from the ceiling
.
I took a deep breath
and caught
the
bitter, coppery scent
taint
ing
the a
ir
.
The room reeked of recent
blood
– blood
and fear.
There
were few signs of
a
struggle
, but
assuredly,
there
had been
fear.

Like the other cases
, there was no body. I followed a blood
trail
out of the bathroom
to the open
bedroom
window where
it
abruptly
disappeared. There was no body
on the sidewalk
three floors
below
, no bloodstain marking where a body had lain
. I
gazed
up the un
-
scalable
brick wall to the roof t
wo
floors above and sh
o
ok my head.
Her abductor
would need climbing gear to haul a body
up that sheer wall
and a uniformed
patrol officer
up
was there
now
checking out that possibility. I knew he would come up with a big
fat
zero as usual.

I turned to my partner, Lew Atwood
standing in front of a dresser
.
His normally imposing figure seemed shrunken as he stared at the victim’s dresser
littered with
the
paraphernalia of her life.
“Just like the last two
disappearances
,

I
said
.

Lew took his time
before
answering. He
had picked up
a
silver-framed
photo of the missing girl.
She looked pixyi
sh
– petite, blonde
hair
,
bright
sky
blue eyes.
She
could not
have put up much of a fight.
Lew
w
as a big man, bigger than me, with
close-cropped
sandy hair
and
green eyes that sparkled when he was happy but
they
had not
sparkled in some time.
Moisture limned them now.
Lew’s
large hands held the frame delicately, lovingly.

BOOK: Blood Lust: A Supernatural Horror
12.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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