CHAPTER FOUR: A DROP OF FEAR
1611 Words
Gasping, Kevin bolted away from the door to the side and pressed his back against the wall, heart throbbing within his chest, legs trembling. After a minute, he stooped to steal a peek through the keyhole. When he did, he found himself staring into the bloodshot eyes of the hideous creature. It stood behind the door, peeking through the keyhole, watching him.
Kevin trembled as he stared into the creature’s deeply coloured eyes. Gasping, he fell backward, his body frozen all over in fear. He dropped to the cold floor—chest heaving, shuffling away from the door. Glancing upward at the keyhole, he saw the large, red eyeball move to focus its gaze on him.
Kevin was alarmed and immediately sensed danger. The creature kept staring at him through the keyhole with fierce eyes. He quickly got back on his feet and ran in the opposite direction. He didn’t know where he was going, neither did he see anything through the thick darkness, but instinct told him to just keep running. To anywhere. He didn’t care where.
Kevin heard tree branches breaking behind, followed by the sound of several footsteps moving swiftly. He turned and saw two masked figures chasing him. And to his right, he found another following him using the trees. It kept jumping from one tree onto another, drawing closer to him at a fast pace. He felt the rush of adrenaline coursing through him.
His body trembled when he took in the sight of another figure a few inches away from him, gliding in the air. Its naked feet did not touch the floor, but were suspended in thin air as it chased him. The more he ran, the faster they came closer.
“Oh golly! What the hell have I stumbled into?” he said in a quivering voice.
He ran through the scanty forest, not sure where he was headed. Thick darkness closed in on all sides as he ran mindlessly. The wind slashed at his face. His naked feet weakened with every step. Kevin wasn’t sure when he’d lost his shoes, but he would have to think about that later on, when he was safely out of there.
He couldn’t breathe, but couldn’t stop—couldn’t risk getting caught. Suddenly, he heard a loud gunshot echoing throughout the forest. The sound, which sent several birds nesting in the forest trees into the sky, scared him to death. He turned to see who had fired at him, but found that none of them was holding a gun.
The masked figure who was floating in the air was already on his tail, its bony fingers stretched forth to grab his collar. Another loud gunshot sounded, and the masked figure collapsed behind him.
Kevin caught the headlights of a car driving through the forest towards him. It only worsened his anxiety. The car stopped in front of him and its headlights bathed his face. He scampered to the side to run past, but then—much to his surprise—he saw Derik through the window.
Derik hollered out to him to get in, aiming his gun at the masked figure running behind him. Having gotten a clear shot of his target, he fired. The hooded figure dropped, wilting in pain.
Another hooded figure jumped off a tree branch above them, coming down. Derik shot him away, and its blood spilled on them. “What the hell are these things!?” he sneered, quickly putting the gun back in the car and driving away after Kevin got in.
The sight of blood smeared all over him appalled Kevin. “I have not a clue what they are.”
Huffing and puffing, he turned to glance backward as Derik drove off. He blinked in surprise when he saw the two hooded figures Derik had shot earlier getting back on their feet. They huddled together. All three masked figures remain rooted to the ground, glaring at them through their masks. Again, Kevin felt a shiver go down his spine. He felt like he almost escaped death.
“Are you crazy coming out here alone?” Derik yelled. “Those things—whatever they are, could have killed you if I hadn’t showed up.”
“Thanks for saving me—again. I owe you my life.”
###
“I did some digging into the organization you mentioned earlier,” Derik started off. He tried to reach for a file sitting at the back of the car. Kevin helped him get it, taking out an embossed paper and glancing through it.
“Everything on that file is what I found about them. This organisation is truly a force to be reckoned with,” Derik said, eyes on the road. “My research on this organisation led me to this forest. I was tracking them a while ago, but your actions back there compromised everything. How did you come to find this place before I did, anyway?”
“I followed Cedric down here.”
“Cedric?” his eyebrows waggled. “Who’s Cedric?”
“The old man I live with,” he acknowledged. “Turns out he’s a shifter and a member of Beocraft.”
Silence fell.
“Does he know you know?” he glanced from the corner of his eyes.”
Kevin nodded.
“I’ll disclose this new information to the taskforce right away. We should waste no time in bringing him in, lest he get away.” His jaw clenched. “What the hell were you thinking, living with a dangerous shifter?”
“Cedric won’t hurt me. I’ve been living with him for over a year now and he’s never laid a finger on me. Not once. If he wanted to, he would have done so a long time ago,” he said confidently. “And besides, I only just discovered that Cedric is one of them.”
Derik snorted at his response. “You have no idea what you are talking about.” He took out a black-and-white photograph of an aged man and placed it before him. “Here is some of the information I’d gathered about the organization.”
“The man whose picture you see there is General Brinton Pierre. In 1948, he ran for the position of mayor of this city but lost to his running mate, Dr Nathaniel Connelly. General Pierre couldn’t live with the defeat, so he sorted out means to overthrow Nathaniel’s leadership, that was when this political group of shifters—Beocraft—came to him. A few days after winning the election, Dr Nathaniel Connelly went missing and was later found in an abandoned warehouse. He was brutally tortured to death.”
“They held an election re-run, and Brinton won. Not a single person who had competed with him for the position was left alive; Beocraft had wiped them all out. No one could stand up against him. The first person who did met the same fate as Nathanial. That is the only real record anyone has on this organization.”
Derik turned to Kevin, trying to stay focused on driving. “Beocraft is a group of politically motivated and powerful individuals who stop at nothing to get what they want, and over the years these ruthless killers have earned the nickname ‘Angels of Death’. The only reason Cedric might be keeping you alive is because he doesn’t perceive you as a threat—yet, but the moment you get in his way or start asking too many questions, rest assured, he won’t hesitate to kill you.”
His response caused Kevin’s spine to stiffen. He felt vulnerable, shoulder slouching forward.
Derik placed a bunch of files in his hands. It contained photographs of two police officers. Kevin recognized one of them. “Wait, I know this officer. His name’s—”
“Murphy Hatfield,” he interrupted. “Was a detective with the Fallout police department. He was recently declared missing until earlier today, his corpse was found in an old abandoned warehouse,” Derik explained.
“I know the story. I found the body.” Looking over at the other police officer in the photograph whom he didn’t recognize, Kevin raised an eyebrow. “Who is the other guy?”
“That’s Sam McClain—a police officer also working with Murphy in the Homicide department of Fallout police force. He went missing a few days after Murphy disappeared.”
Wrinkles creased his brows. “That’s odd. You think maybe Beocraft must have kidnapped him?”
“Possibly. If they did, then it’s only a matter of time before his body would be dumped on the street like the rest of the tortured victims we’ve seen so far.”
“What does Sam McClain have to do in all this, and why does the organisation want him dead?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.”
In the silence that followed, Derik said, “There’s something you need to know, but promise you’ll never breathe a word of it to anyone else.” He turned to him. “Can I count on your discretion?”
Kevin picked up a note of utter seriousness in his voice. Whatever Derik wanted to tell him, he could tell it was important. “You have my word,” he finally said.
“Do you swear it?” he sounded dead serious.
“I swear.”
He blew the spirit away with an impatient sigh, then turned to face him. “I was born a shifter, just like you,” he revealed.
A stony silence brought the conversation to a standstill.
- Writer
