Page 12

Chapter

Twelve

Erin

H is muscular body looks even more massive when it’s up close and personal. Slowly, my gaze falls down his form to the enormous cock hanging between his legs. It’s completely flaccid, yet bigger than most erect human cocks I’ve seen, and he catches me staring before I can look away.

“You must like what you see,” he says, and before I can drag my eyes away, his cock twitches. I gape, heat scorching my cheeks, creeping down my neck, and he slowly kneels beside me, bringing his face inches away from mine. “You liked it just fine in the forest. Do you want more?”

I shake my head quickly, nerves eating me from the inside. Truthfully, I might enjoy him taking me again, but I refuse to tell him that.

And right now, I’m so sore from the first round I really might break from another.

He huffs through his nose, his warm breath hitting me in the face, and I swallow hard. I can see every fine detail of the skull, from small scratches to a thin crack running down the side of his face. His mouth hangs open, his slender tongue dancing over his teeth, and it hits me just how surreal this creature is. Unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, who shouldn’t even exist.

Even though this feels like some bizarre dream, being this close to him confirms that it’s all very real.

Everything I’ve ever worked for in my life, years of research and sleepless nights and dealing with trolls in my comments calling me a freak… It’s led to this.

He reaches toward me and I wince instinctively, squeezing my eyes closed and expecting the worst.

Is he going to slit my throat as promised? Or slice me from navel to collarbone?

I’m preparing myself for the white-hot feeling of claws ripping through my skin, but instead, he grabs my wrists and slices through the binding with one of his claws.

My eyes pop back open, and I stare into his illuminated red orbs for a long moment, stunned he didn’t hurt me. Maybe there is more to this monster than I’ve given him credit for? Or maybe he’s waiting until the soup is ready before turning me into minced meat.

I'll probably taste best fresh…

After an uncomfortable second, he breaks the silence.

“Don’t run again,” he growls, standing to tower over me once again. “You won’t survive what waits outside these walls. Trust me.”

He turns his back on me, heading back to the stone basin as I massage my wrists and sit up on the pile of pelts. There’s still rope around my ankles, but I refuse to ask Syros for more assistance. I immediately set to work on the knot, pulling and tugging at it until I’m free.

My eyes dart toward the door, temptation sending another burst of adrenaline through my veins. If I make a run for it, I might make it out of the house before he catches up. But then where would I go? And what’s outside these walls that I wouldn’t survive?

I have no weapons, nothing but the clothes on my back, and no idea what I would do if I got away again. I didn’t see any other monsters last time, but perhaps it was sheer luck. Maybe Syros scared them off.

Surely there are more of him out there. What chance would I stand against any of them if Syros caught me so easily? Are there bigger, scarier beasts that even Grims fear? A part of me cowers at what other nightmarish things I might encounter here, while another piece soars in elation.

Imagine what I could do with proof for my blog that there is not only another world out there, accessed through ours, but different cryptids than we ever imagined walking and breathing and hunting.

“Well, I don’t stand a chance surviving inside these walls either,” I say timidly, suddenly afraid to heckle him in case he changes his mind about gutting me.

But what else am I supposed to do? Sit here silently waiting for death to claim me? It seems like a waste.

“Have I killed you yet?” Syros barks.

My jaw falls and I stare at the ridges of his spine poking out through coarse black fur. “Well, no. Not yet.”

And he’s had plenty of opportunities to.

“Then, I’d say your chances of survival are much higher inside.”

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s almost amused, in a dry sort of way.

I fall silent at his response. Okay, I’m almost positive he’s keeping me alive intentionally now. But why? Has he done the same thing with any of the other humans he’s captured and brought through the portal?

He has ropes here, so it’s entirely possible.

What other humans has he tied up and tossed on the pile of pelts?

It’s all too much to process, and I still need to form an escape plan, but it seems I have a little while to do that.

I move from the nest and get to my feet, stretching my sore muscles and noting the way Syros stiffens to my left. He probably thinks I’m getting ready to make a run for it, bracing himself to chase after me, but I’m not. Not yet .

I cross to one of the walls, admiring the various strung-up items from Earth; they’re random, unevenly spaced with no rhyme or reason to the positioning. Wherever there’s a protrusion or groove in the stone, something dangles. There is a broken pair of headphones, a bandana, a studded belt, and plush doll hanging by her blonde yarn hair.

An interesting selection to say the least.

Intrigued, I continue down the wall, checking out more strange items. A Brittney Spears CD with no case, a charm bracelet, a thermos lid, and a gold dangle earring that glints in the dim light.

It’s bizarre seeing the things he’s collected, things that most people would have thrown in the trash. It’s like the lost and found of the woods lining the perimeter of Great Oaks, all preserved here perfectly in Syros’ strange hovel of a house.

“You have an interesting collection.”

He pauses, and then, “I’ve worked hard on it.”

“Are these all the things you find when you go through the portal?” I dare to ask, not entirely sure I want to know the answer.

“Yes and no.” He turns around, setting the long wooden ladle he’s been using aside, and watches me intently. “Some things I found. Others were carried by the humans when I brought them here.”

“The humans you brought here,” I reiterate unintentionally, wondering how many dozens or hundreds of humans he’s captured just like me.

How many times has he gone through the portal?

How long do Grims even live?

It’s very clear that I’m the only human present currently—I haven’t seen any hints of anyone else—but maybe there are others out there in this world who’ve managed to survive. If there are, maybe I can ally myself with them.

Maybe we can all escape together.

The thought brings with it a swell of hope. Maybe I’m not actually alone in this world. There might be others like me…

“What happens to them when you bring them here?” I ask, feeling like my throat is swelling. “Besides you playing pickpocket.”

Something in my bones tells me I already know the answer. After all, the entire world has stories and legends about him saying the same thing, but I need to hear it out loud to confirm every suspicion I’ve had up until this point.

Although it’s impossible, I swear Syros is smiling at me. “I eat them.”

Chills skitter down my arms, even though I knew that answer was coming. Of course he eats them. What’s he going to do? Hunt humans to keep us as pets?

Humans aren’t interesting enough for that.

“A-Are you going to eat me then?” I ask, thankful that he’s finally talking to me, but now afraid to keep asking questions. But without asking, how else am I going to get the answers I’m desperate for?

“If you keep asking questions, I will,” he growls, the sound rumbling in his throat. “You’re definitely the most annoying human I’ve captured.”

I huff and cross my arms over my chest. “Well, you’re the biggest asshole I’ve met. So you can say we’re even. Although I guess I’m not too annoying since you had sex with me.”

He cocks his head to the side and hesitates for a moment. Then his mouth moves. “What is an ass-hole ?”

I snicker, immediately suppressing the noise, and think about how best to answer him. Obviously he isn’t familiar with some English terms. Hell, I’m not even sure how he learned to speak English in the first place. Maybe I’ll ask him if he stops being such a dick.

“A jerk. Mean,” I say, rolling my eyes for emphasis. “Someone who is nasty to others and doesn’t care.”

“Have you met many nice monsters then?” he asks, seeming genuinely curious. “That’s what the humans before you called me.”

A monster. That’s… well, that’s fitting.

The truth is, I haven’t met any other monsters aside from my close encounter with Bigfoot, but he doesn’t have to know that. Ghosts? Sure. A few poltergeists? Yeah.

But never an outright monster like him.

“Several,” I huff. “And none of them have ever knocked me unconscious and dragged me through a portal, only to be an asshole once I’m in his world. Then again, none of them have ever taken me captive and dragged me through a portal before.”

If the Grim could show emotions, I’d imagine his face would contort with utter confusion, and I’m not even sure why I’m saying the things I am. Maybe it’s the nerves, all coming out as word vomit at this point.

“Crossing realms knocked you out, not me.” He chuckles once. “You fill me with humor despite your annoyance, Erin . For that reason, you’re still alive.”

I fill him with humor ? I don’t know if we’ve existed on the same planet because I haven’t said anything remotely funny.

In fact, aside from our escapade in the woods, I haven’t said anything but nasty things back to him at all. Maybe he finds anger and irritation amusing.

“Glad I can offer you some entertainment,” I say, dragging my eyes away and glancing at the items on the wall again. “Do you know what all these things are?”

I already know the answer to that question too, but now that I have him talking, I want to keep the conversation flowing. Find out what I can. I’ll get tidbits of information out of him that will help me escape, to be better prepared for what I’ll find outside, but I have to keep up the act.

“No.” He shakes his head, eyes sweeping throughout the room. “I have guesses about many of them, but I’m not certain. No human has survived long enough to tell me.” His lower jaw drops and I think it’s a smile. “I’m always too hungry to let them live.”

“All except me, apparently,” I say dryly.

Flattering . I’ve already outlived all his other victims and there’s no one here that I can brag to about it. Go figure .

Maybe if they’d tried bartering with sex they’d have made it this far. I shake my head, disgusted at the thought.

“Have you ever bothered to ask them?” I say instead. “No, you probably had the cauldron already bubblin’ and you didn’t want to wait.”

He huffs out what might be a laugh. “Care to use your imagination?”

“Well…” I sigh, knowing I have to find something to distract him and fill my time because it might be the only way I stay alive. “Do you want me to tell you what these things are?”

He waits as though contemplating the decision before lowering this chin once in a clear yes .

I’ve gone from searching for the Grim, to being hunted and fucked by him, to now teaching him about things from the human world. Never in a million years would I have predicted this, and no one in a million years would ever believe it.

“All right.” I say, rubbing my hands together. “Where do you want to start?”