Free Husk by Matt Hults Page B

rolled in their sockets, and the Killer pulled his head back by the hair to gaze down on them, widening the wound. Raising the other arm, the Killer bit into the scarecrow’s glove, ripping it off to expose a hand wrapped in grime-covered rags. Claws jutted from each fingertip like cracked shovel blades of bone.
    Kern’s eyes bulged.
    “ I am the flame which shines upon the Opener of Eternity,” the Killer roared, thrusting the exposed hand into Father Kern’s gaping gullet.
    Blood spurted upward around the Killer’s forearm as it slid deeper, claws plunging through the muddy cavern of Kern’s insides, stabbing through the soft flesh to find his beating heart—and yank it free.
    The Killer stood, extracting the blood-soaked prize.
    Kern’s corpse smacked the floor.
    The priest’s heart still pulsed in the Killer’s grip, triggering the welcome rush of energy that always punctuated the conclusion of a kill.
    The house fell quiet, impartial to the bloodshed.
    Sated, the Killer relaxed, refocusing on the situation.
    People had noticed the Andersons’ absence and soon others would question Kern’s whereabouts. The time to leave had come, meaning—
    The Killer straightened up and whirled around, tossing Kern’s heart aside. The dead muscle hit the ground and— thunk, thud, thunk —rolled down the hall, leaving bloody ovals on the floorboards.
    Through the open front door, the Killer spotted Mallory jogging up the street.
    The Killer moved to the doorway, momentarily captivated.
    Her vitality. Her energy.
    So strong.
    Like a star among candle flames.
    She ran inside her garage and vanished from sight, but the Killer stared after her, bewitched by the thoughts of her imminent demise. How magnificent it would be. How glorious.
    Shaking the spell of enthrallment, the Killer realized the front door still stood open.
    The Killer seized the doorknob, quickly searching left and right, making certain no one had seen.
    The Wiess house.
    Across the street, Mallory’s brother stood at the open front door, staring back, watching wide-eyed.
     
     
    CHAPTER 12
     
    BJ gawked at the big man standing in the doorway across the street.
    He’d come outside to play cars on the walkway, but the sight of the oddly dressed stranger halted him in his tracks. The man looked like a monstrous version of a voodoo doll he’d seen in a Scooby Doo episode.
    Voodooman stepped out of the shadows and started across the neighbor’s yard, headed straight toward him.
    He’s coming to get me!
    He knew it immediately. Saw it in the unwavering stare and quick, purposeful strides.
    “ Holy shit,” he whispered.
    His whole body locked up and wouldn’t respond to his brain’s order to flee. Then the oncoming giant trod off the street, onto his front lawn, and he spun away, dashing inside.
    “ Dad! Dad!”
    He slammed the door and ran to find his father.
    He reached the kitchen, where his dad was preparing lunch. Across the room, Mallory rushed inside, entering from the garage. She let out an elongated sigh and leaned against the door after shutting and locking it.
    “ Am I to assume that means you had a good run?” his dad asked her. He stood at the counter, adding the finishing touches to three turkey sandwiches. The air smelled of tomato soup simmering on the stove.
    Mallory exhaled one long breath and started across the room. “It definitely got my heart rate up,” she replied.
    “ Dad,” BJ called, but his father had already resumed talking to Mallory.
    “ You want something to eat, or are you going straight to the Olympics?”
    “ Actually, I’m going straight to the shower. What time is it, anyway?”
    “ A little past noon.” His dad smiled. “Are you anxious for Tim to come over?”
    She opened the refrigerator and retrieved a bottle of water from the door rack. “I only agreed to that because you put me on the spot.”
    “ I’m sure he’s a great kid.”
    Mallory laughed. “Not everyone thinks so.”
    “ What makes you