ḾṎᕍ⁅ᖇṈ ℄Ṏv⁅ | The Lost Boys

ᏨᏲᾀᑬt⁅ᖇ tᏔ⁅Ṉtẙ-ṈḭṈ⁅

⚠️Warnings: blood, stabbing⚠️

"MARKO!"

Rocks crumble from the ceiling, tumbling to the dirt floor. My shout echoes through the cave, bouncing from wall to wall, high pitched and strong.

The reaction is instantaneous. One by one, the boys open their eyes, which are all the same shade of pure, reflective yellow—the eyes of a killer. The boys scream, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. They thrash about, fangs on display, four terrible gaping maws ready to tear into the trespassers.

Edgar drops the stake, all blood draining from his face. "Shit!"

David is livid. When he speaks, his voice is an unearthly growl like a creature from hell. "You're all dead! YOU'RE DEAD MEAT!"

Edgar and Alan clamor off the ladder but ultimately fall on their ass when they can't get down quick enough. Marko is the first to flip right-side-up, teeth-gnashing and clawed hands out-stretched, grabbing ahold of Alan when he tries to run.

"Alan!"

Edgar and Sam physically tear him from Marko's grasp. Alan comes away unscathed, save for three long cuts on his arm.

Dwayne and Paul are still upside down, screaming their heads off, when David starts his descent.

The little boys are frozen in terror, holding onto each other for dear life.

David swipes at them, but they duck in the nick of time. That's when I realize David and his brothers were going to kill them!

I throw myself in front of Sammy and the Frogs, herding them towards the narrow tunnel from whence they came.

"Go!" Hoisting Sammy over the ledge, I move to Alan. "Run!"

Sam heaves Alan up, then leans down for me. "Come on, take my hand! Take my hand! I'm not leaving you here!"

"Just go!" I call over my shoulder. "I'll hold them off."

"Don't be stupid; this is how people die in horror movies!"

"Shut up, Sammy!" I all but pull Edgar away from whatever he was doing, just standing there like a fucking idiot, and start to lift him up, over the ledge.

He shoves me back, hard. "Betrayal!"

Inwardly, i groan. I don't have time for this little shit's drama. "Edgar, you've gotta go!"

"No." He grapples with something in his hand. "Filthy, bloodsucker—I knew you'd turn on us! I'm not leaving without taking one of you down."

I barely catch a glimpse of the wooden stake in his hand before it's driven clean through my stomach with a sickening squelch.

I don't even have time to scream.

Blood spurts from the wound. Eyes wide, I clamp my hands over the wooden weaken. It's as thick as my arm and as long as it, too—a crudely carved piece of wood, splintered and dead, driven into my gut.

And then the pain comes.

I think I make a noise, but I can't be sure. All the screaming melds with the roaring of blood in my ears. I trip over my own feet and fall, but before I can hit the ground, someone catches me.

The scent of sage. Cold skin. Corded bracelets. Dwayne.

I can barely see his face; his hair obscures most of his features, I see his red-and-yellow eyes, and I know.

He eases the two of us to the ground and cradles my head. "Rowan," he repeats over and over again, like a prayer. I want to know why he's panicking when I'm the one with the giant splinter plunged into my gut.

"You're okay. You're going to be okay."

I gasp in response. No, I'm not. Another face comes into my vision. It's Marko.

"You saved my fucking life," he says in disbelief. He bends to get a good look at the wound but flinches away. "Shit, did it go all the way through?"

"I think so," says Dwayne.

I cough, ruby red droplets spraying from my mouth.

"Shit."

Paul nearly trips over me. Unlike Dwayne and Marko, his face has shifted back to normal. And I'm stuck in that moment with how beautiful he really is. Those crystal blue eyes, the very first ones I saw that night on the boardwalk, were filled with so much fear.

"Baby, baby, look at me." Paul cups my face, smoothing his thumb across my cheekbone. "You're gonna be okay. We're gonna make this right. Just hang on—David's gonna fix this, okay?"

David. I try to look, but I can't see him. I'm right lens of my glasses have a blood splotch in the center, further inhibiting my view.

I grunt, my voice barely louder than a whisper, "Don't ... don't kill the-them ... They're just—just kids ... they don't know ..."

Marko snarls. "Those kids just skewered you."

"They ... thought they—they were doing ... w-what was right." I whimper as I try to shift. The pain in my gut is too much to bear, like a fire. I just want to close my eyes and sleep. "... They're scared."

"No, no, no." Paul lightly slaps my face. "Open your eyes."

I want to tell him that I would if I could, but my eyelids are too heavy. Besides when I close my eyes and I start to drift off the pain isn't so bad.

My jaw is forced open. Sticky, sweet blood pour down my throat. I open my eyes a crack to find Dwayne's forearm in my mouth. I make an attempt to suck, but it's too much energy.

All I want to do is sleep.

In the distance, I hear Marko rage. "She's gotta feed—Damnit, David, what's taking so long?!"

Paul's hand ghosts over the stake. "We've gotta take this thing out."

"She's not going to be able to heal if we don't."

"She'll die before that happens." Dwayne removes his arm. "She needs a human. That's the only way."

A fourth scent wafts over me. David. I can feel him looming over me.

Marko is up in arms the moment he sees him. "Where's the kid?"

"They got away."

"What?!"

"They got away!" David roars. "And they took Star and Laddie. There's nothing we can do about it right now."

A cough racks my body. The slightest movement causes the stake to shift, and I whimper. I wished one of my boys would pull the fucking thing out if only to put me out of my misery.

The cave is deafeningly silent. Someone touches my chin. "She might not have until sunset."