mirror of https://github.com/nealey/Horrors2
76 lines
3.1 KiB
TeX
76 lines
3.1 KiB
TeX
%\chapimg{art/Discount_Bees-The_Horrid.jpg}
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%\chapimg{Discount\_Bees}{\includegraphics[width=\textwidth]{art/Discount_Bees-The_Horrid.jpg}}
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\chapimg{Discount\_Bees}{art/Discount_Bees-The_Horrid.jpg}
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\chapauth{Ben Biddick}
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\chapter{The Horrid Reflection}
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I stepped from the shadow. The sound had come again. I was in the alley
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off 42nd Street in New York. My hand shook slightly with the loaded
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Beretta in my hand. The sleek pistol was loaded and cocked, ready to
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fire. I am a private detective. My name is Luke Bavarious. I like this
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work.
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People had been complaining about weird noises coming from the alley for
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about a year now and we finally decided to see what was going on. I was
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assigned to stop these noises.
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I edged into the dim light. I saw a dark figure sitting on a dumpster,
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facing away from me. He was sobbing and crying. I raised my Beretta and
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lined his quivering back up with my bead.
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``You there! What are you doing?'' I shouted through the darkness.
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``Turn around!'' I shouted again.
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``Beggin' your pardon, but\ldots you don't want me to turn around,'' it
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said.
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``Sure I do. I got a pistol pointed at your back so ya better,'' I
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replied.
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``Okay, you asked for it,'' the thing mumbled as it began to turn around.
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A breeze trickled through the alley as it turned and began to come
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toward me. I couldn't see him yet, he was shaded in the darkness.
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``Step out of the dark.''
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It inched forward. First its combat boots. Then its legs. Then its
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chest. Then its head. If you call it a head. His face was horrid. There
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was an abundance of purple scars. There was blood leaking from an empty
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eye socket and he only had one shriveled ear. There was no nose. There
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were no lips. Only holes.
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I took a step back in astonishment. I gritted my teeth to keep the vomit
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down.
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He took three more steps forward and I saw his tears glisten in the
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moonlight.
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``I told ya,'' it said.
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He screamed and began to run toward me. His stub of a hand was held high
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in the air and was ready to commence his brutality. I pulled the trigger
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on my Beretta. The recoil soothed my fear as I heard a shell hit the
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pavement and saw the lead make another eye socket in the thing's
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forehead. It kept coming with the assistance of his adrenaline. It had
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only been a split second before I squeezed off another round into its
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neck. The thing was inches away as I fired point blank into the thing's
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throat. Two shells hit the concrete.
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His hand smashed my head terribly powerful. Muscles were strained and
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torn as my head jerked to the side, smashing a window. I fell and landed
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in jagged glass. Dazed I fired again and again into the thing's chest. I
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felt the recoil pushing back rhythmically. Shells hitting the
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pavement. Bullets hitting the monster. Blood showering me. I felt my own
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blood from the side of my head fall and drip. I kept firing. The
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magazine was empty. He staggered. I tasted my tears and blood mixed into
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a horrid cocktail. It fell down next to me. A badge sparkled on the side
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of his jacket. Bavarious.
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I picked up a large piece of broken glass and saw a horrid
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reflection. Suddenly, I was sobbing.
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\illustration{necroid}{His hand smashed my head terribly powerful}{art/necroid-his_hand_smashed.jpg}
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