Hubris McLeod – Part 4

It took me longer than I’d expected to get back to Carly’s house, not least because I tripped into a puddle on the way there. When I did finally squish my way up to her front door I was surprised to find it wide open.

 

I crept into the hall and, to my delight, found that the horrible carpet of maggots was gone. This afforded me the luxury of not screaming like a girl and letting anyone know I was there. Using this advantage I pressed myself to the wall like a badly trained spy and sidled towards the door to the lounge. I tried the handle but the door wouldn’t move, which wasn’t entirely unexpected. One of the first things I learned when I got roped into this gig was that horror film cliches seem to have a basis in the real world, suddenly locked doors being the bottom of the pile.

 

I fumbled my way around the overly large house for a few minutes before finding the other entrance to the lounge. This door wasn’t locked and I pushed it open. I was greeted by the same aura I had seen before, only this time it was bigger. It had grown quite quickly, filling most of the lounge like a cold fireball. I wanted to study it but I was distracted before I got the chance.

 

I ducked the punch just in time, falling to the ground as the giant fist crashed into the wall behind me. I glanced up to take a look at my assailant. At the other end of a long and muscular arm stood a man who could only be described as a giant. He was so tall he had to stoop so he didn’t hit his head on the ceiling and must have been nearly as wide as a doorway. This was probably the person who jumped me the last time I was there and looking at his hands I can see why he did so much damage.

 

The muscular behemoth drew back his hand from the wall and shook free some large clumps of plaster before setting his sights on me again. He was surprisingly quick for his size, before I had time to run he had grabbed me and hurled me across the room into the far wall. As I lay there, seriously winded, I saw him pick up the couch with one hand, he was going to crush me to death with it. It was then that I remembered my gun.

 

I’ve never been very good with firearms which made what happened next feel so very good. I didn’t have the strength, nor the speed, to get my pistol out of my pocket in time to fire it so instead I did my best to aim it in my pocket. Thinking I had a pretty decent bead on his head I pulled the trigger and instantly felt a sharp pain shoot up my leg. I had shot myself in the foot. Handily, however, the bullet had passed through my foot and embedded itself in the hulk’s groin, causing him to drop the couch on his head and knock himself out in one fluid movement. I managed to hobble over to make sure of this fact before I shot him once more in the groin. I’m a vindictive bastard.

 

I took a few minutes to compose myself and turned my attention once more to the aura. It didn’t look right. Deep in it’s centre, almost impossible to see, were two fuzzy circles that I could almost swear were eyes. It was like watching for pictures in the static on a television, every now and then I would catch a glimpse of something that resembled a face only to lose it to the chaos. Regardless of this I got a very clear feeling of evil from whatever this thing was. It warranted further investigation. I needed to touch it, to get direct contact with its energies. I know that sounds a little New-Age but a lot can be learned from physical contact with auras that you just can’t get from looking at them. Of course if what you are about to touch isn’t an aura you get a much different reaction, as I found out when I actually touched it.

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