She barely had time to wedge herself into the narrow space before Roman Salaville threw himself once more against the door, this time ripping it from its hinges.
Squeezed into the closet, her back crushed painfully against the shelves, Eloise had only the door to shield her from the Salavilles. But the brothers bolted straight across the room. Once in the hallway, they began to open all the rooms, searching everywhere.
“Where is she? Where’s the little bitch hiding?” Roman Salaville barked.
“She won’t get far,” his brother answered. “I’ll check out the stockroom. You look for her in the living room.”
Eloise slipped an arm out of the closet and pushed away the splintered door. She couldn’t see the brothers from her vantage point, but she heard the doors slamming nearby and objects being smashed.
She had to make a decision. Right now.
She crept out of her hiding place and hurried back down the hallway as fast as she could, winding up in the room where they had held her captive.
She saw the naked mattress and the straps attached to it. Brownish stains covered the surface. She shivered, but this was no time to panic. The two psychopaths would soon realize that they were heading in the wrong direction, and they would come back here.
She raced across the room, and as she grazed one of the walls, her shoulder hit a hanging wooden Virgin Mary statue.
As it toppled to the floor, Eloise stifled a scream of terror.
She crept to the doorway and glanced outside.
From here, she could only make out a strip of the farmyard. And all the blood that had been spilled there. Large, gleaming puddles.
She did not want to know. All that mattered was getting away from here. Escaping.
Another house, all of its shutters closed, as well, was on the other side of the yard. A stone barn stood midway between the two houses.
She could see a wall topped with barbed wire surrounding the farm. If she ran fast enough, could she reach it without being detected?
Behind her, the racket came to a stop.
She could hear the Salavilles’ voices.
Then she heard their footsteps.
Already they were coming back her way.
She stopped thinking and dashed.
She covered the first few yards without any problem.
When she hit the puddles of blood, though, her bare feet slipped.
She thought she would wind up sprawled on the ground.
But she managed to keep going.
She ran frantically. She could not tell if her tormentors were gaining on her, and the uncertainty was unbearable.
Halfway across the yard, she leaped behind a stone container filled with rainwater.
Her heart beat wildly. She risked looking back at the house.
Complete and utter silence.
She then turned toward the wall-toward freedom.
And stopped dead.
The black wolf was back. It was standing in front of the wall, erect and immobile. Its eyes shone with a reddish gleam.
It bore its fangs.
A vicious smile.
Eloise Lombard held back a scream and forced herself to be still.
The wolf blocked her way.
She raised her head. Blood pounded in her temples. She had to be losing her mind, right?
The wolf wasn’t moving.
She had to get a hold of herself. Get away quick, before the creature attacked her.
She slowly turned around and retreated.
The barn. That was the closest shelter.
For now she could come up with no other option.
She hurried along the barn’s stone facade and reached the door.
She slipped inside.
She had made it. And the beast hadn’t followed her.
She took a deep breath.
That’s when she noticed the smell.
The stench hit her like a punch in the gut and pushed her back against the wall. She felt her leg muscles weaken and wondered if she was going to collapse.
She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out.
She couldn’t tear her eyes from the sight in front of her.
There were corpses.
Not just a few. Dozens. Skinned bodies. The flesh of some of them was blackened with decay. The remains were piled on top of each other, and for a moment the sight felt so surreal, she thought she had to be looking at dead animals in a slaughterhouse. But they weren’t animals. They were
One of the corpses was still hanging in the air by its feet, suspended above a metal bucket half filled with blood.
But what struck Eloise was that this body no longer had a face.
They had cut-torn? — off every bit of skin, from forehead to neck.
This time, reality cracked. Utter chaos ripped through her mind.
Eloise felt a hand grabbing the back of her neck.
It was Claude Salaville’s.
3
Her blood froze.
But there was no way she would give up now. She was going to fight as long as she could.
She turned and bit at the hand clutching her.
Howling, the man drew back. A brief respite. But then she saw Roman Salaville. She hadn’t noticed him come in. He lunged at her and wrapped his huge arms around her. His brother planted himself in front of her and slapped her. Once. Twice.
“No!”
“Oh yes,” Roman whispered in her ear. “We have to.”
“No! No!” the girl shrieked in vain.
While the fat man held her tight against himself, Claude put a strap around her ankles. He fastened it with a good yank.
Now she understood what they were going to do to her. That’s why they had abducted her. And it was worse than anything she could have imagined.
Claude slid a butcher’s s-hook into the strap, bruising her ankles, and walked to the barn wall to activate a pulley. A thick rope tightened. All of a sudden Eloise was hoisted upward. The world turned over, her body upside down. Her hands clawed the air as blood rushed to her head and throbbed in her temples. She could not scream anymore. She was yanked higher and jerked with every turn of the crank.
Having gotten her to the desired height, the man secured the rope, and then returned to her, boning knife in
