Lincoln Cole

“The demon will find you in here,” the echo of Arthur said. He still stood in the doorway, but his expression had gradually shifted to worry, and he looked around. “Already, you can feel it clawing through your mind. It will find us.”

“You ready?” Dominick asked. Haatim couldn’t think of anything in his life that he felt less ready for than what they were about to do.

Abigail had no idea of her location. She found herself sitting on the edge of a bed in a dark bedroom but couldn’t remember ever coming into the room or sitting down. It seemed like she’d just appeared there all of a sudden.

Haatim heard a sound and glanced behind him. Abigail came flying out of the wrecked church. Only one wall still stood, which looked on the verge of collapsing too, as the structural integrity of the building broke down.

Haatim held the pistol in trembling hands, looking down at the body of his sister as she clutched the wound in her chest. If the bullet hadn’t hit her heart, it had come extremely close and done considerable damage. The expression on the demon’s face, though, he hadn’t expected.

Haatim ran as fast as he could away from the church and the gray demon chasing him, dodging overgrown sections and struggling to breathe.

Dominick slipped through the town, slow and quiet, and listened for any sound of movement around the area. They didn’t know where, or if, Nida might have posted guards but wanted to stay ready for anything.

Marcus half-carried, half-dragged Lucas down the hallway deeper into the power station, desperately searching for any sign of an exit. The sizzling, bubbling mass of ooze continued its relentless pursuit, gaining ground with each passing second.

The road appeared completely quiet as they drove toward the old campgrounds an hour outside of Raven’s Peak. It held a strong sense of déjà vu for Abigail and her first trip out here with Haatim.