His face went white, his mouth filling up with cotton balls as his stomach started to flutter. He’d almost managed to purge the memory of what this felt like from his mind in the past month, but now it all came flooding back to him.
“Fuh,” he huffed. It had been intended to be a much fouler word, but he found he did not have the breath with which to finish it.
Suddenly his throat became tight and there was a sharp pain in his right side as something slid into him. He could feel the creature’s iron grip on his neck, its long nails each making their own mark. Pressure seemed to build to the breaking point in his side, but the blood didn’t flow. Whatever had made the hole also plugged it, letting the tension build and build, like water behind a dam. All at once, they pulled out, so fast that the muscle and tendons in its way threatened to pull themselves free and come with them, effectively turning him inside out. A rush of blood came as well, seeming to hang suspended in the air for a moment as Mike’s neck was released. He hit the floor at the same time as the large pool of blood, the both of them landing on the collapsed body of Cathy’s Dad.
Fighting to keep pressure on the wound, Mike turned around to face the creature. Again there was nothing, just the soft glow of moonlight on the desk. His blood had begun to get into the tracts between tiles of hardwood floor already, making long grids as it pooled outward quickly. He already felt light-headed as he reached his free hand, still covered in his own sticky fluid, and grabbed Mr. Kennessy by the face, forcing him to look at him.
His face was slack and lifeless, but the eyes looked right at him and were very much alive.
“Mr. Kennessy?” he asked, gulping back saliva and blood, then wishing he hadn’t. He felt like he was saying every word with a large bubble wedged between his teeth. “David?! David, can you hear me?”
The man’s throat moved, his Adams’ apple bobbing three times in rapid succession before his lips parted, ever so slightly. His eyes did not move in unison, one continuously trying to roll back into his head and then snapping back in quick spasms. “Cat...” he managed, then coughed up a great heap of blood.
“She’s fine,” Mike assured him in a hushed voice. He could hear his own heartbeat all the way up inside his throat, making it hard to hear anything else. He had to resist the impulse to shout above it. “She’s at the neighbors. We have to go, David, can you walk?”
The man seemed to try to move, but the muscles barely twitched.
Mike reached out and touched his shoulder to move him, then decided not to. There was no telling what the Womb had done to him and he might do more harm than good.
His throat bobbed a few times again and Mike pulled his ear close to try and hear what the man was saying. “Martha?”
Mike’s eyes lit up with fright. Summoning all his courage, he turned back toward the darkness and saw... nothing, everything appearing clear and danger-free. There were no more bloodied lumps of the floor. The lamp had stopped moving. “I can’t see her. Where is she? And Trina, where’s...”
“Kitchen,” he managed, his eyes getting a little wide. They looked sympathetic and grateful all at the same time somehow, and Mike nodded before turning to spit out a mouthful of blood. Trina wasn’t here, the eyes were telling him, and he thanked his blessings no matter how small they were.
He placed a hand on the side of David Kennessy’s face, forcing him to maintain eye contact. “I am coming back, okay? Just hold on and we’ll go to Cathy.”
At the sound of his daughter’s name, Kennessy let out a long sigh of relief. His little girl was safe.
Mike crawled across the hardwood, ignoring the searing hurt which erupted from his heel every second or so. His blood left long streaks behind him, lopping every few feet when he switched sides to crawl on.
-clink-
He heard the sound with amazing clarity, coming from his side this time. He started to hurry despite the pain, allowing it to feed him rather than hinder him. Each pump of agony acted as a whip, forcing him forward with every jolt.
There was a lump lying dead against the kitchen tiles and his heart sank instantly. He rushed over to her, grunting with pain. He stretched his arm out to her, grabbing her shoulder and rolling her over. She looked at him. Her arm had been cut, but it was nothing serious. It could have been a lot worse.
She looked away, but didn’t speak. Suddenly, her eyes moved from Mike, to behind him. They became wide with fear, her mouth opened to speak, but no words came. Slowly, Mike turned around.
Something cold and metal slammed against his face, sending him back against Cathy’s mother. Blood streamed down into his eyes from a cut on his forehead. For a moment, when he felt blood trickle down his neck and chest, he thought that the monster had cut his neck. Red, coppery liquid streamed from his nose into
