Chapter 183: 5.16

A girl who turned out to be an Adumbrae? Isn't that super fucking cool?

I was so excited to try out this new face that I had goosebumps all over while waiting for the asshole crew to enter this abandoned store. My enthusiasm for the drama that’d ensue deflated a bit when the bastards basically trash-talked me saying I was a twig and couldn't get a guy.

True, I was extremely petite and short, but elementary was the last time someone called me a twig or some similar insult. I did put on a bit of muscle in high school when I became a cheerleader. And excuse me, I can get a guy if I wanted. That was my favorite hobby during high school—destroying relationships of girls who crossed me. Sometimes it panned out, sometimes it particularly failed.

However, I had long left behind that shameful past when I was a petty bitch. I was now a mature woman with carefully considered hobbies. Yes, stirring up drama was still my priority, but I had formulated a more sophisticated face for it. Instead of manipulating people from the sidelines, I was now front and center with my first ever villainous face.

My heroic Blanchette face didn't really find much success, with only Reginus and her loony followers believing I was a good Adumbrae. But then again, it was a tough pill to swallow for an average person that an Adumbrae was trying to save people.

So, how about an Adumbrae killing people?

The Eloyce University first-year student who dared to touch me had the surprise of his life when I ripped his hand off. I was also surprised by how easily I tore it that I almost yelped and ruined the theatrical moment. I only wanted to break his arm, intending to draw out the moment and slowly build up their terror.

But it worked out anyway because their pathetic screams followed. How amusing it was to see how fast these creeps changed, from supposedly being in control of the situation, bullying a lone girl, to absolute crybabies.

I summoned Blanchette's mask. I didn't want to dirty my own hands, and I certainly wouldn't try to eat them with my own body. If I could get them to attack me as Blanchette, then that'd be great. Leaving behind half-eaten bodies for Deen to find later would also cement the image I wasn't in control of my Adumbrae side. I'd have plenty of excuses to do 'bad stuff' in the future.

I grabbed the freshie missing one hand by his scalp and held him up. I was so much shorter than him so even if I raised my hand, his feet still dragged on the floor. Fucking annoying.

What irritated me further was that he kept trying to get away, kicking me and punching me, even using the bloody stump of his arm. I have to change my clothes later. He also kept on begging that I let him go, which was understandable. But he didn't have to yell it at me. I was just right next to him.

To my delight, Skull Tattoo Bro—I assumed that was him because it was hard to tell in the dim light—fired a gun...probably at me. I figured guys like these would have weapons.

He didn’t hit me though. I didn't even notice him pull out a gun because I was busy enjoying the panicked reactions of his fraternity brothers. If he was lucky, he could've landed the headshot of his lifetime, and also my lifetime because I could've died.

I wiggled his friend's body at him, daring him to shoot again. I could've already worn my Blanchette mask to reduce the risk of dying, but it was fun to gamble every once in a while. And I bet a normal-looking frail girl waving a bloodied body like a ragdoll looked terrifying. Maybe I should’ve brought Deen along to record everything.

Skull Tattoo Bro didn't want to risk shooting his friend. "I'm not going to die here!" he yelled as he run away. The others also fled.

"You forgot your friend!" I called out, throwing their first-year brother amongst the shelves.

I couldn't see it, but it sounded like I scored a hit.

"Oh, they left you here?" I used the glowing Blanchette mask floating over my right hand as a light to illuminate the trembling body in front of me. It was Goatee Guy curled up on the floor, hugging the bottom of a store shelf with all his might.

He was horribly sobbing, with tears, snot, and saliva pooling into a puddle around his head. He kept on repeating 'Mommy' or something like that as he tightly shut his eyes. I wasn't sure if he realized I was beside him.

This guy was such a let-down. I thought they'd put up more of a fight to make this whole thing enjoyable. A horror movie wasn't fun if the characters just rolled over and waited for their turn to be killed by the monster. The audience would walk out of the theater if that was the case. I hoped Goatee Guy's frat brothers would be more proactive.

From the very heavy traffic going out of La Esperanza when I expected there to be fewer cars, to my tea-splashing plan that didn't come to fruition. I already had plenty of disappointments for the day and didn't want to add any to the list. I'll just kill this guy and move on to better prey, I thought as I brought Blanchette's mask to my face.

And the mask becomes a face.

It was like someone turned on the lights in the store—although the actual lights probably no longer worked. My Blanchette eyes could easily see in the dark. All my other senses were also heightened. From the noises and the smells, I could tell how many people were inside the store with me. One was heading to the front door. Three were escaping through a window, the cool but dry desert air flooding in.

As for Goatee Guy in front of me...

I sniffed the air a couple of times to check. Did he pee himself? Ewwww!

I had seen this many times in horror movies, and it was meant to convey the utter horror felt by the character. It should flatter me since that was what I was going for, but what crossed my mind was, Fucking disgusting!

This was not a good time to have a super sense of smell. Of course, it wasn't disgusting to me as Blanchette; I had eaten far more revolted things. It was the thought that sickened me. In my annoyance, I stabbed Goatee Guy with my straightened fingers.

"Help!" he yelled out as my claws pierced his chest. His blood sprayed me. There was a moment of clarity in his eyes when everything probably returned to him and he remembered what was going on. He tried to scream again, but I closed my hand, crushing his ribs and sternum, shredding his lungs and heart.

"Bridger!"

"Leave him!" It was the voices of the guys by the window. By the sound of it, they were already outside. I could clearly hear their footsteps as they run away. They might just provide the dramatic moments I was looking for.

I do hope Deen had the presence of mind to stop them from escaping using their truck. It would be easy for me as Blanchette to hunt them across the desert, but I was sure I couldn't fucking chase down a car.

For a couple of seconds, Goatee Guy surprisingly still managed to feebly struggle. He tried to pull his body away from my claws, but I had hooked them inside his body. His efforts to speak failed, with copious amounts of blood pouring out of his mouth as his lips moved.

He violently coughed to clear his thought and cried, "Mommy! Mommy! Urgkk!" Then his whole body fell limp with his last breath.

With my other hand, I grabbed his head, not to close his eyes but to crush his skull. If Deen would decide to check their bodies later, I wanted her to be horrified by the carnage she'd see. I quickly dismantled his body like I was shredding chicken to mix with salad.

Then I left Goatee Guy's mangled body—which looked like a kid had played with his spaghetti meal—and moved on to my next victim.

The One-Handed Freshie was still somehow conscious despite the blood loss from his severed hand; his skin was already turning pale, although not as pale as my original body’s complexion yet. He'd eventually beat my naturally pale skin if I just left him alone to bleed out. He had managed to prop himself up against a store shelf. He intermittently groaned in pain while nodding his head as if he was sleepy.

Skull Tattoo Bro was crawling to the windows where the others had escaped through. His nervous breathing was very loud. I was going to leave him for later.

"Grayson..." the One-Handed Freshie weakly spoke. He looked up at me even though he shouldn't be able to see my form in this darkness.  "Grayson...where are you?"

Grayson? Oh, yeah, that's Skull Tattoo Bro's name.

Since this kid was mostly only following his senior fraternity brothers, I decided to give him a quick death. He had suffered enough, and there was nothing for my evil Blanchette Adumbrae face to terrorize here. What was the most efficient way to do it? Break his neck?

I held his head with both my hands, wondering how the people in martial arts movies do it, and swiftly twisted it to the side.

"Argh! It hurts!" he shouted.

Bones cracked, but I obviously did something wrong because he was still alive. Next, I bent his head back, hoping that would do the trick. It didn't. He cried out more. I could've continued bending his head until he died. However, that wasn't what I was aiming for. How do they do it in the movies?

I tried different ways, moving his head around like it was a stick shift—for the record, I hated manual transmission—careful not to accidentally kill him with brute strength. It reminded me of experiments as a kid removing the legs of beetles to check if they could still walk.

"I'm free!" someone outside yelled. Skull Tattoo Guy had apparently escaped the store. That snapped me out of my focused fascination with human anatomy experimentation.

Oh, that's right. I was supposed to give this kid a quick death. I snapped his head around until his face turned straight back. Too bad for this guy that he wasn't an owl. This was what I should've done right from the start. Then I also proceeded to tear him apart while thinking about what to do about the bodies.

You are reading story REND at novel35.com

Put them inside the store and burn it all down? What about their truck?

We could also burn that. The problem was that such a fire could be seen from the road. It would only take one passing car who'd care enough to phone the police about a mysterious fire. Or we could just leave them all here and do nothing—what was that?

I dropped the clumps of flesh from One-Handed Freshie—now, the Several-Pieces Freshie—and stood up, curiously cocking my head to listen to the gunfire outside. There it was again. Who was that jackass shooting?

Deen? With narrowed eyes and gritted teeth, I rushed to a window and tore away the wooden planks blocking my path.

I let out a low growl as I climbed out of the store. Deen had her Guardian Angel to protect her; there was next to no chance that she'd get hit. But one could never be too sure with Deen. She could have a change of heart and try to help those fuckers escape from me. And if she wouldn't listen to her Guardian Angel, she might get shot.

The distinct sweet scent of Deen’s soap or perfume—I still hadn’t asked her what this product was—was noticeable in the breeze. I couldn't detect any new smell of blood other than what I had on me. I had smelled Deen's blood before; I even drank it. If she was wounded, I'd surely notice it.

She must be fine. The wind blew through the hills behind the store and down to me, carrying traces of the smell of the three who escaped. Skull Tattoo Bro wasn't with them. He must've gone for the truck instead.

I leave that to you, Deen. She wouldn't let us get caught, would she?

I dropped on all fours and ran, sniffing the ground as I followed the tracks of a three. There was someone with a brain among the three of them because they eventually split up as they continued running—well, two of them did.

One was hiding behind a weird rock formation. His breathing was faint; I could tell he was trying very hard not to make a sound. Unfortunately for him, his pounding heartbeat gave him away. And also his smell. I must be imagining it, but I think I could smell fear. It was hard to describe.

I stood up and walked around the pile of boulders, making noises with each footstep to add to his dread. He didn't move.

I looked around but still couldn't see him.

A large rock that was perched on top of the formation wiggled. He was behind it, pushing it with his legs. He successfully dislodged it, and the rock rolled down at me. "Fucking die, Adumbrae!"

This was something straight out of a movie that the main character would do to kill a monster. Good job!

But not good enough.

I caught the wide rock as if fell, grabbing it with both hands, and burying my claws into its surface. It was fucking heavy. I locked my elbows and bent my knees to absorb the impact. Stepping out of the way was something a horror movie monster shouldn't do.

"Grwaargh!" I roared as I hurled the rock back to the top of the stack of boulders.

Main Character Guy yelled in surprise, not expecting me to throw it back at him. Sliding down the side of the boulder formation, he avoided getting squished. He tumbled to the ground, picked himself up, then ran. The noticeable limp told me that his fall hurt him bad.

There was a flicker of light as he seemed to have turned on his cellphone for a second and then turned it off. He must've realized that I could simply follow the light. He was doing all the things the main character should do to survive a horror movie. Too bad I couldn't let him go.

I could see him bright as day as he blindly ran, his hands stretched out in front of him.

I should've let that rock hit me, I thought in annoyance at myself. The chance was already there. I didn't take it. If I got hurt by the falling rock, even a teensy-weensy bit, my ability would've activated and I could chomp Main Character Guy without vomiting my guts out. Stupid, Erind.

Since the moment had already been ruined, might as well quickly dispatch these three lost rats, dismember them, and then kill Skull Tattoo Bro to finish off the night...or day? I'm going to ask Deen about this night-day thing later.

I sprinted at Main Character Guy who was still floundering in the dark and swiped my claws at his neck. I wasn't able to completely lop his head off—it hang on by a few strings of muscle and a stretch of skin—but I had severed his spine. I grabbed his hair as he fell and kicked away his body to completely separate his head.

There, a quick death, I thought as I threw his head at his crumpled body. He deserved that much for being the main character of my horror movie. I wouldn't be surprised if it was his plan that they all split up. And then he stayed behind to try to kill me while his friends fled.

Such a swell guy.

But where are the other two?

I managed to pick up their scent again, but I couldn't hear them nearby. There were also marks on the ground showing where they had run. I followed their tracks around a small hill when I realized that they must've circled it and headed to the abandoned gasoline station...to their truck. I ran on all fours for more speed and cut over the hill while looking for them.

As I made my way back to the station, their smells greeted my nose. I also spotted their tracks on the ground. Soon enough, I spotted their forms running with all their might. I growled to let them know of my presence.

"Fuck! It's behind us!"

"Tahir? Tahir? Did he—?"

"He's fucking dead and we're next!"

"Mother Core, help—Aaah!"

The taller guy pushed his friend to the ground and left him behind—I supposed that was the extent of their brotherhood. I briefly glanced at the kid who fell, recognizing him as the freshie whom the others had bullied into hitting on Deen, and continued to chase the one who betrayed him. This is also in horror movies, and it makes me really happy there's drama.

"Shit, shit, shit!" cried out the guy who turned out to be Coconut Head, as he looked over his shoulder. "Don't fucking come closer!" He couldn't see me, other than probably a dark form, but he could hear me. "I don't want to--yeaargh!" He tripped on his way down a sloping path and rolled on the ground.

"Fucking Grayson didn't kill you?" Coconut Head said, his voice on the verge of tears. "That good for nothing..."

I stood back on two feet and leisurely walked around him while snarling. His imagination coupled with the darkness would do the rest. If he could see what I actually looked like, he probably wouldn't be as scared. Bent over, with his hands covering his head, he looked like a snail that was terribly trembling.

"Please don't kill me," he continued. "I'll do whatever you want. I'll worship Adumbrae!"

I snapped my jaws at the air.

"Oh my fucking god! I'll do it! I'll worship Adumbrae every day! Just let me live!"

There was a waft of a couple more new scents. Hard soles of shoes hit the ground. Two people were running towards us.

"Bridger! Yves!" shouted a familiar voice.

"Tahir? Where are you guys?" called out another, someone I hadn't heard before.

"Enrico!" cried out Coconut Head. "I'm here—!"

I kicked his head and he fell silent. So we got Action Hero now too? This was shaping up to be a complete horror movie experience.