The mouth went away. The cool air of the cellar chilled her wet flesh. The mouth took in her other breast. It was not so gentle, this time. Its teeth squeezed. She tried to lie still, but her muscles tensed. The jaws clamped tighter. The pain cleared her mind. She was no longer distant and observing, but she didn’t dare to struggle. Not now. Not with her breast in its teeth. The creature squirmed, pulling on her. Then it let go.
Claws scratched her belly. They dug under the waistband of her skirt and pulled with such force that her rump lifted off the floor. Raising her head, she saw the beast on its knees between her legs, ripping away her skirt. It gave a final yank, and flung the garment aside.
She saw its huge, erect penis.
No!
Jerking her knees high, she rolled. Her foot brushed the creature. Then her legs were clear and she kept rolling, kept flipping herself over. She didn’t look back.
Facedown, she shoved herself off the carpet. She staggered forward. The stairway was far to her left. She ran for it, and heard a rumbling growl behind her.
Claws pierced her shoulders. Weight pressed down, collapsing her legs. She fell. The floor hammered her knees and palms. With the beast on her back, she crawled closer to the stairs.
It reached under her. It gripped her breasts. Pulled. Her hands left the carpet. She was squeezed against its slick chest, lifted off her knees. Its teeth caught the side of her neck as if to hold her still. She felt its penis between her legs, shoving her higher as it carried her toward the stairs.
Kicking and squirming, Tyler clutched the creature’s hands and tried to tear them away from her breasts. They squeezed more tightly. The claws dug in, piercing her skin.
The beast slammed her down against the stairs. The edges of the risers pounded her body. She felt the hands go away from her breasts. Claws scraped along her ribs and sides. They dug into her hips. The shaft began to slide backwards.
Tyler clamped her legs shut. She couldn’t stop it, but the beast licked her neck and pushed forward again as if it liked the feel of her hugging thighs. Twisting, she darted a hand down between her body and the stairs. She gagged as she clutched the slimy flesh. Gripping it with all her strength, she snapped her hand sideways. It didn’t break, or even bend. It moved forward and back, using her hand, while the panting beast lapped her neck.
She tugged. Her hand flew off the slick penis and struck one of the risers.
The beast clutched her thighs, pulled, lifted. Tyler’s knees left the stairs. Clinging to the plank at her shoulders, she bucked and thrashed. “No!” she shrieked.
Her right hand let go of the stair.
She slapped it down between her legs.
The beast thrust. Pounded the back of her hand with such force that her forehead bumped the edge of the higher step.
The penis didn’t go away. It rubbed over her knuckles, moved down to her fingers, tried to nudge between them. Tyler shoved her hand lower.
The beast made a low, gurgling growl, its breath hot against her neck.
Then it bit.
Tyler whimpered as teeth sank into the back of her hand, tore the skin away, nibbled the raw wound, bit deeper. Her hand was on fire, but she kept it tight against her body.
Her mind was numb.
It can’t have teeth. Not there!
But it did.
They burrowed into her hand and ripped like the teeth of a mad rat trying to eat its way through.
My God.
Oh my God.
The growls of the beast sounded almost like laughter as it chewed her hand.
It’s enjoying this.
If it wanted, it could knock my hand out of the way. It doesn’t have to do this.
Tyler heard blood pattering one of the steps.
She wished her hand would go numb. It seemed to grow more tender, instead. The teeth felt like white-hot needles as they nipped and tore. Her whole arm burned and trembled.
The teeth went away.
The growls of the beast no longer sounded amused. Suddenly, it roared. Claws stabbed her thighs as it jerked her backwards. It rammed. Tyler’s hand exploded with pain. She shrieked as two of her fingers snapped.
A thunderous blast pounded her ears.
The claws jumped, raked her thighs, released her.
She fell sprawling onto the stairs.
Another explosion. She pushed herself up. Stared at her right hand. The back of it was bloody pulp. The two broken fingers had already begun to swell. Weeping, she turned herself over and saw Captain Frank standing above the beast.
It lay on its back, writhing. It had a hole through one side of its head, another through its chest. Tyler’s eyes moved down to its huge penis. Sheathed with blood. Her blood. Shreds of skin clung to the blunt end. The teeth parted, snapped shut.
Captain Frank fired into its head until his gun was empty.
He gave Tyler a crooked, slightly drunken smile. “Didn’t I tell you?” he asked. He winked at her. He fiddled with his Luger. Its magazine dropped to the carpet. From the pocket of his baggy Bermuda shorts he took a full magazine. He slid it up the handle, and pulled at a mechanism on top of the pistol. “Didn’t I tell you I’d lay it low?” he asked, and started shooting again.
Tyler watched the dead beast jerk as bullets punched through it. Then she shut her eyes.
As the firing went on, she felt the stairway tremble under her.
“Ahoy there!” Captain Frank yelled.
The shooting stopped.
Tyler opened her eyes. Abe’s face, upside down, was close above her. “My God,” he said.
He stepped down the stairs and sat beside Tyler. She turned, and raised her arms to him.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Tyler held him fiercely. He stroked the back of her head. “It’s okay, it’s all over,” he whispered. “Are you hurt badly?”
“Just…my hand.”
Abe looked at it, pain in his eyes. “Jesus,” he muttered. He started to take off his shirt.
“I blasted it to smithereens,” said Captain Frank. He sounded gleeful.
“Is Jack all right?” Tyler asked, as Abe began to wrap the shirt around her torn, broken hand.
“Jack’s fine. We took care of business. Where’s Nora?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Outside, I guess.”
“That Hardy fella plugged Janice,” Captain Frank said. “We left them back at the other house, and Nora ran off to get help.”
“Hardy shot her?”
“Took her for the beast.”
“Did he get her bad?”
“I guess she lived through that, but we heard some shots back there. This creature must’ve popped in on them before it come for us. Gave me a nasty wallop, but I’m okay. Come to my senses in time to blast it up.”
Abe finished wrapping Tyler’s hand. “Let’s get out of this place. Get you to a hospital.” Gently, he pulled the tattered front of the sweater across her breasts.
She groaned as she sat up straight.
Captain Frank picked up the remains of her skirt. He looked away as he handed the garment to Abe.
Abe helped her stand. He wrapped the skirt around her. Captain Frank provided his belt to hold it up, then searched for her sandals. He found one half hidden under the first stair, the other near the head of the beast. Abe held her steady while she stepped into them.
The old man picked up the revolver he had let Tyler borrow, shoved it into a front pocket of his Bermudas, and slid his Luger into the other pocket. “Guess we’re all set,” he said.
He started up the stairs. Abe put an arm around Tyler’s back, and together they climbed out of the cellar.
They entered the kitchen of the Kutch house. They walked down a narrow, blue-lighted corridor. A group of people was standing in the foyer. Jack had his gun aimed at a fat woman with a bandaged face who looked a lot like Maggie Kutch. A thin, pale woman in a nightgown stood with her back to the door. She held a baby to her chest.