The Last Winter

Saturday: In the Chapel (29)

Michal
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

"EUGENA!" I shout, staggering after her. "STOP! EUGENA!"

"Michal!" I hear Maggie scream after me, but I don't turn to look.

There's a narrow wooden stairwell that twists and disappears to an upper floor. The door had already been flung open by Eugena.

I stumble through the doorway and stop short.

It's a sanctuary, spacious compared to the claustrophobic room with the saws. Most of the rotten pews have been reduced to piles of splintered boards on the dirty floor.

There are double doors that occupy the opposite end of the room. Towering over the exit is a large set of steps that ascend to a lengthy balcony, which also appears to lead to another exit on the far wall.

On the other end of the sanctuary is a small altar and two kneeling benches for prayer. Hanging on the back wall and drenched in a blanket of cobwebs is a dark cross, charred black...and upside down.

I hear the others come up from behind me, and I move to let them through. I give them a moment to observe the eerily quiet haven.

"You take the doors, I'll take the stairs," I tell Maggie quietly.

She looks at me as if I just sprouted a second head.

"What? No. Michal, we need to get out of here."

"Eugena--" I start.

"She's gone psycho! She's completely lost it! For all we know, she could've killed Ronnie and the others herself. She can still kill us too!"

I shake my head. "I...I don't think so. Look, either way, Eugena is not well. She needs help. We can't just leave her here. She's family."

Maggie shrugs. "Sounds like a personal problem. I'm getting out of here." She holds up a letter opener and marches toward the doors. "Let's go!" she tells the others.

"I'll follow you guys in a minute!" I tell them quickly, climbing the steps two at a time.

I'll just check to see if Eugena's hiding up here. It'll just take a second.

"Eugena?" I call out breathlessly, reaching the top with a struggle.

I touch my temple for a moment, waiting for the pounding in my skull to subside.

"Eugena?" I repeat, somewhat quieter.

A lonely wooden door sits against the wall. Bits of wood and debris are scattered in front of it. It doesn't look like it's been touched in decades. Even more so, it looks like an obscure closet.

I hear the doors groan shut somewhere below as the others exit the chapel. That's my cue to follow. Eugena's not up here.

I make it down one step when I hear something clattering against the stone floor of the sanctuary.

My blood turns to ice.

There--poking its disgustingly wrinkled face out from the doorway from where we came--is the ghostly white creature of pure nightmare.

It's not a wolf. Not mountain lion. Not anything I've ever seen before.

It scrambles on all fours, its back hunched, its limbs elongated, and its ribcage protruding. I can see the lumps of its spine curving down its back. Its skin appears thin and translucent, having not seen the light of day for centuries. Its neck looks like skin and bone, and its face resembles a decaying corpse's skull.

And the eyes...it has no soul.

I stand as still as a statue as I watch the howler sniff the air eagerly. At any given second, it's going to look up and see that it's not alone.

Is this how I die? I can't help but wonder.

Then screams rip through the tense air, slightly muffled by the closed doors below. I think I can detect Maggie somewhere in there too. God knows what's happening.

The howler makes a snarling sound from deep within its hollow throat, and then it quickly scrambles toward the exit.

A gasp escapes my lips, and only when the howler whips its ugly head in my direction do I realize just how loud I was.

Oh crap.

It releases the most excruciatingly ear-piercing howl I've ever heard, verging on a guttural predator scream.

I bolt back up the steps and race to the closet door. I can hear the devilish creature close behind me, but I don't dare look back.

I whip the door open and slam it shut, scrambling to my knees so I can crawl into the back of the cramped space. Foul-smelling cardboard boxes tower above me, and the soft, dusty sleeves of a coat brush up against my face.

The howler roars with anger. I'm guessing it doesn't know how to twist doorknobs. If I'm lucky, maybe it'll just go away.

My hand brushes up against something metallic and heavy sitting on the floor. An old rusty pistol.

The door shakes as the howler pounds against it with demonic power.

I stammer a quick prayer, but I'm not sure my terrified words quite make sense. I don't really know what I'm saying.

Splinters of wood explode from the door and clatter to my elbows. A large piece falls on my back, but before I have time to recover, I feel a sharp pain in the back of my right leg as a set of long claws dig into my skin.

With its gnarly nails hooked deep in my leg, it drags me backward. I scream, and in return it gives me a beastly scream of its own, making my ears ring and my blood run cold.

The pistol slides from my scrambling fingers.

I can feel the other set of claws scratch against my back as the creature struggles to break through what little wood is still attached to the door.

I rip my leg from its grasp and scream again from the pain.

With a desperate lurch forward, I knock into a stack of boxes, which tumbles down and spills meaningless papers all over our struggling bodies.

Another scream erupts--not mine, or the howler's.

Maggie's.

"MICHAL!"

Please tell me she's not right outside the closet. All she's got to defend herself with is a letter opener.

...........................

Next chapter: What's Left

Veronica screams again, somewhere in the other room, watching in agony, unable to save her sister.

I don't hear Vena anymore.