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Gwen may have lost the element of surprise, but the rush of dopamine that burst in her brain may have been worth it. The pleasure running through her body was unlike anything she had experienced before. As she slowly approached the fallen cultist, a part of her wondered if this was how Ambrosius felt when he chased her. Gwen couldn’t deny the appeal, though she preferred being chased when it came to her demonic lover.
The spiders were ravenous little things, burrowing into bitten flesh. Gwen’s eyes glowed as she eyed Brother Aaron’s dying breaths, watching his half delirious expression. He reached out, hand stretching toward something unknown.
“Praise The Bound Obscene…” he whispered.
He died a moment later, under Gwen’s unnatural stare. The euphoria was a little less intense in the building, but something had shifted in the air. The unbridled excitement was starting to turn to anxiety. The intense emotion exploded somewhere near Gwen.
No, not an explosion.
A gunshot.
41
Hostile
Gwen
Instinct made Gwen jump, dropping the knife as she reached for the shelf by her side. She raised her foot, finding purchase on one of the lower shelves as she hauled herself up. Gwen wasn’t particularly strong, but she soon realized she didn’t need to be. Climbing took very little effort, as if she was suddenly weightless. All sense of vertigo was gone as Gwen reached the top of the aisle, crouched precariously above a model train set.
From her vantage point, Gwen could see more robed figures darting through aisles. They were all headed in her direction, and at least one of them was brandishing a gun. It confirmed Gwen’s thoughts that the cult was expecting some kind of resistance. Though she doubted any of them were expecting it to be supernatural.
They aren’t expecting me…
Gwen turned her gaze to the ceiling. There would be more room to move away from gunfire up there. If shecould get to the end of the aisle unnoticed, Gwen could climb the thin pillar. As the radio noise got closer, Gwen scrambled to her feet. She raced across the boxes and braced herself as she collided with the pillar.
Yet gravity never came as Gwen’s hands stuck to the pillar like glue. To her amazement, she scaled the pillar just as easily as the little spiders. Gwen skittered until her hands and feet met the ceiling. Now she could see more of them, head hanging down as she eyed the figures.
Two from Frames, four from Sewing. Six all together.
They were racing toward the aisle, splitting into groups to surround it. Clever, but not good enough. The cultist with the gun reached Brother Aaron first. He shouted before aiming at one of the larger spiders.
“None of that!” Gwen hissed, voice dropping into a nightmarish pitch.
With one outstretched hand, something bubbling in Gwen’s stomach. It coiled around her organs, jerking through her heart and into veins. A pulsation flared through her arm, pushed through her wrists, and burst from her palm. A flash of pink neon arced, slamming into the cultist’s chest. The impact sent him flying like a rag doll, body smacking against the floor straight into the next aisle.
The cultists immediately started falling over themselves. With one brave enough to reach for their radio at their hip.
“Sister Angie, Brother Aaron is down! Brother Carter is down! Permission to get the fuck out of here?! Over!”
Another cultist grabbed the radio from their hand, “Fuck the radio, Linda, we need to leave, now!”
“Getthe hell out of my way!” another yelled, shoving Linda aside.
“Fuck you, Corey!” Linda shouted.
The deterioration of their collective infuriated Gwen. Here she was, risking her very life for the one she loved, and these so-called devoted followers of the Bound Obscene were so quick to abandon him. It was disappointing, it was insulting, and most of all, it proved Gwen’s original thought.
None of you are worthy of him,a dark voice inside Gwen snarled.And none of you are getting away.
Gwen scurried across the ceiling, following Corey as he bolted toward the front door. The adrenaline made him fast, but something in Gwen was faster. Unfortunately, all that rapid movement created a sound that echoed beneath the screaming cultists. It was enough that Corey paused, the hood of his cloak falling away. His head darted left and right, mouth open as he panted. If Gwen didn’t know better, she could have sworn she heard his heart beating.
Thump-thump… thump-thump…
Corey’s hesitation was his downfall as Gwen dropped from the ceiling. She fell upon his back, sending him crashing to the floor between two checkout stands. Corey groaned, scrambling to push Gwen off his back with an elbow to her solar plexus. The impact hurt, sending Gwen into the side of one of the registers.
Corey hurried to his feet, only to fall once again as he caught his foot on his own cloak. Gwen reached up, yanking the intercom phone down just as Corey reached up to pull at the strings. By the time his shaky fingers freed him of the cloak, Gwen brought the phone down on his head. It was enough to bring him back to the ground,Gwen quickly straddling his back as she brought the phone down again and again. By the time Gwen stopped, the phone was stained and cracked, much like the back of Corey’s head.
She dropped the phone, letting it fall into the pool of blood. Gwen left Corey’s body, stalking down the aisles where she could hear the fleeing cult members. She would need to deal with them quickly, as there were at least six other individuals performing the ritual.