Page 81 of Infernal Secrets

Feminine hums reached my ears as a tall woman stepped around a car parked between me and the elevator. Her short blonde bob caught the flickering fluorescent light overhead. When she caught sight of me, she smiled, lifting a hand in greeting.

Intense relief hit me, threatening to buckle my knees.

I wasn’t alone.

I could make it to the elevator.

My breath quavered as I exhaled, lifting a shaky hand. I steeled my spine and walked toward her, determined to reach the elevator before she got in her car and left.

As I drew closer, she turned to face me again.

Something wasn’t right.

Her face looked doll-like and milky white. Her rounded blue eyes appeared too innocent and wide for an adult. When I tilted my head, puzzled by the childlike mismatch, she lifted her hand again, fingers wiggling in another playful wave.

Then it happened.

In a voice that rang all around me, she said, “Ananeva.” The word vibrated through my ribcage and the concrete.

She paused, and the fingers of her raised hand twitched unnaturally. Before I could react, her face flickered—glitching like an image failing to refresh.

Her doll-like features contorted, stretching and twisting before melting. Her nose shriveled, leaving two holes surrounded by rotting flesh. Her baby-blue eyes darkened into empty pits of endless black.

In the moment it took me to blink, she appeared normal again, smiling with childlike innocence as if nothing had happened.

I stumbled back and froze, my breath catching when I noticed the shadows near her move.

From beneath her parked car, two figures moved into view.

One slithered across the concrete on its belly, secreting a tar-like substance that matched the color of its charred skin. Its bones and organs pressed against skin so thin it looked ready to rip from the friction against the ground. The other crawled on all fours, spine arched high, neck twisted at an unnatural angle. Matted clumps of hair dangled from thin strands clinging to its bald head. Its flesh mottled with blackened patches and dried blood.

The stench of burned flesh and decay churned my stomach.

A third infernal crawled out from beneath the car and joined them. It hunched forward, its elongated limbs dragging on the ground like a small ape. Two rows of small horns protruded from mottled green-and-yellow skin, running from its forehead over its bald head and disappearing into a spine of sharp spikes down its back.

Their mouths reminded me of the delemora at Grandma’s funeral. Too wide to be natural, with lips torn and stretched, splitting their faces open. When they looked at me, I saw awareness in their large eyes—saw pain and anger. Their unnatural smiles made me question whether they were born that way or forced to smile through mutilation.

I shuddered, pushing the thought from my mind. I needed to think about survival. Only one looked capable of chasing me, but I put nothing past these creatures.

The woman tilted her head back and screeched, the sound like knives driving into my skull.

I pivoted and ran.

Desperation surged through me as I sprinted across the parking lot, away from the elevator’s safety. If more infernals waited above, I couldn’t backtrack. My heart hammered in my chest as I raced across the nearly empty space. I only needed to make it to the ramp on the other side of the lot.

I’d almost reached it when I skidded to a halt, my blood turning to ice—three more infernals blocked the only escape route.

Two stood tall, their gaunt bodies a patchwork of leathery skin and gaping wounds. I gagged as the stench of bubbling pus oozing from the shoddy stitch-work reached me.

They were missing the lower halves of their faces. Jagged upper teeth curled around a long tongue that writhed as if it had a life of its own, dangling with no lower jaw to contain it. Without a nose, the tongue seemed to scent the air for the creature. When the ochre substance coating their tongues dripped to the ground, hissing and bubbling on the concrete, I knew I couldn’t let them near me.

The third figure stepped forward between them, lifting its head. Only a hollow cavity filled with rows of small, wiggling tentacles made up the area where its face should be.

Before I could back away, the one on the left lunged, lightning fast, swiping at me.

I cried out as claws ripped through my tights, scoring my thigh. Searing pain flooded my system, and panic threatened to render me useless as warm blood trickled down my leg. When the right one shifted, I refused to give it the opportunity to strike me, too.

I turned to run, only to choke back a sob at what waited ahead.