Bladed Cross: An End Before The End Times: book 1

THE BLOOD PIT

In the dawn light she rowed her canoe down the watercourse that flowed into Demon Lake.

The current was strong, and she could see Blue catfish swimming away as she approached the open water. They were large fish, about three to four feet long. But such a size was nothing compared to the monsters she saw fishermen pull out of the deep parts. They were massive, and kind of disgusting to her. She disliked fish. they were beautiful to look at but repulsive to touch.

In the cool of the morning the woman saw the fish biting, their movements forming ripples on the surface, bubbles coming out of the water as they surfaced to feed on the insects that flew too close. She flung her blond braid back over her left shoulder and petted her dog, a German shepherd who wagged her tail happily as the woman rowed out into open water and toward a small island that she'd seen three days after she and her family arrived at their rental cabin. Between the island and the shore were a thick cluster of trees that had grown from of the water, forming a kind of swamp. These trees also aligned the banks and river. She liked to spend her mornings here, reading and letting her dog play in the water. Along with listening to the sounds of nature after smoking cannabis in a pipe, it was the kind of leisure time she enjoyed.

With the sky turning blue and the air warming up fast, she pulled up to the shore of the island, got out—as did her dog—and she pulled the boat ashore so it wouldn't drift away. She took out her book, a beach blanket and a toy for the dog. She walked toward the sandy part that was facing the open water of the lake. She spread the blanket out on the sand, tossed her book on it and played with her dog for a few minutes, tossing her toy into the water, and having the dog swim out to get it. The dog was swimming around in the water and wagging her tail, whimpering and grunting happily, before coming back on land, shaking herself off, droplets of water raining all around the woman. The dog nudged the chew toy with her muzzle, wanting it to be thrown again but her owner said, "no, girl, I'm getting tired."

She kicked the toy across the sand just to humor her, sat down on the blanket, took out and lit her pipe. She took a couple puffs, instantly feeling the high. She read while her dog ran, swam and played in the water in all directions.

The dog ran behind her owner, gave her a kiss on the cheek which made her wince in disgust, and circled her twice more before running off toward the other side of the island where the swamp was. She stood on a large, six-foot-tall down sloping rock. Her ears perked as she heard something in front of her. A woodpecker on the bottom trunk of a tree near the water, pecking small chunks of wood from the tree. The dog bobbed her head and whimpered, looking at it. The bird froze and stared up at her inquisitively, then looked toward the water, and suddenly flew off.

The dog sensed it too.

The ball fell from her jaws, splashing into the water.

She started barking.

The woman laid on the blanket, warming herself in the sun as she read. The world seemed to be somewhere else as she enjoyed herself in her bubble of muteness. The sound of her dog's barking was what broke her silence. She shouted for the dog to keep quiet, but she wouldn't. The woman finally set her book down, got up, and with the world swaying and turning in all directions due to her high, went to her. "Bobby girl, knock it off. What is it?" She went over to her and saw that nothing seemed to be wrong, she was just barking for the hell of it. That's when she followed her gaze and saw that her ball was in the water. "You can go in there and get that," she scolded. "Go get it! Don't whine at me."

The dog didn't obey, so the woman decided to remove her shoes and wade into the water, which now seemed to give off an unsettling vibe. She was hesitant at first, but she went in anyway—feeling the sting of cold—got the ball and waded out. She tossed the ball and Bobby bounded after it. "There," she said. "I'm not getting it for you again, get it yourself next time." She loved that dog, but she did get on her nerves sometimes. She went back to her blanket, book and sunlight once again. After awhile, Bobby started barking again, more aggressively this time. She thought that was very odd, Bobby never acted or barked like that. In fact, that made her uneasy, and she grew suspicious, despite her drugged state. There was splashing, and the barking suddenly stopped.

She got up again. She made her way back to the swamp, thinking that Bobby was just barking at a bird or squirrel. The woman reached the spot where Bobby previously was, but the dog was gone. She couldn't see her anywhere, though the water was distraught. She must have swam to the other side.

"Bobby?" She called out. "Bobby where are you?"

Nothing, she whistled. Nothing. She whistled again, and still nothing. She searched for any sign of her, continuing to call, but couldn't find or see any sign of her. The woman's assumption was that Bobby had taken an interest in something on the main shore and swam there. She had started to get nervous, realizing that if her dog had done such a thing, she would have to get back in her canoe, row to shore and look there. And given the dog's current behavior, she could have gone after a bear. After all, black bears were abundant here. She was just about to gather her things and return to the canoe, when she heard something behind her. It was the sound of gurgling. She turned toward the noise and looked around.

"Bobby?" She got nothing in response, but she could still hear that gurgling.

She called out again. "Bobby?"

Still nothing. She began to grow frightened. She stepped forward, looking intently, and that's when she saw her.

Bobby was in the swamp like water, her back end and legs visible. She was stuck under a log. Not knowing how that happened and not caring, her only thought was to get her her dog out of there. Bobby's legs were twitching, bubbles coming out of the water.

"Bobby!" She screamed and plunged into the water, not caring how deep it was or how cold, she could swim and she did. She swam to her dog, reached up, grabbed a low hanging branch for support, grabbed Bobby by her back legs, and pulled her easily out from under the log. That's when she screamed. Bobby's upper half, all the way down to her ribs was gone, torn away. Her blood clouded the water, and all her insides were also ripped out. Part of her spine was visible, and the inside of her displayed red, fleshy ribs. The woman's heart was beating so hard that she could hear it, her adrenaline causing her to shudder hard. She could barely hold on to the branch. She was severely frightened out of her wits, breathing heavily, her chest heaving.

She was just about to let go, try and swim back to shore, when suddenly, she felt a nip on her toes. She froze, her eyes wide as she felt the nipping again, painful this time. The water suddenly became icy cold.

Suddenly, the log Bobby was under shot forward in a wave of water, causing her to loose her grip and sink into the distraught pool. The nipping had become a biting, crushing pain. Her head was underwater for a brief moment before she bobbed back up, her vision blurry.

A cold and fleshy softness, sudden and invasive, covered all around her feet, legs and stomach, though she could not see what the thing was. Then she felt crushing pain in her abdomen. She screamed loudly. The pain growing worse, the crushing taking her breath away until her mouth gaped open in silence, a look of pure terror in her bulging eyes. The force in her abdomen increased. . .

and there was a clear and vivid crunch, immediately after which she uncontrollably spewed blood out of her mouth, covering the tree trunks in long streaks of red. She began to thrash violently, her head snapping from side to side as she lurched forward and backward. Then, her body swung around and moved backwards with incredible speed through the watery forest. Her last wish as she died in this terrible agony, was that it would all be over quickly.

A thin, but strong branch was hanging low, just above her shoulders. Her body slammed into it, the impact tearing her head from her shoulders. There was a sudden burst of hot thick blood that gurgled out of the ragged stump of her now headless torso like a river. Her body disappeared under the churning water, clouded with red. Her head, which was crushed and mangled, landed on a floating log. With blood streaming out all over the wood, the jaw twitching open and shut, the head rolled into the water with aloud splash. The distraught waves settled once again into a still reflection of trees and sky. All was quiet again.

Peaceful silence one moment, a merciless and brutal attack the next, then serenity again. But it was a cold and haunted serenity now, with its utter silence and blood. The thing—after devouring the headless woman—had buried itself under the red sand of a blood pit. . .

as if nothing happened.