Enthralled: Paranormal Diversions (Wicked Lovely 5.50)

I moved closer, being careful to keep my back to the wall. The sound came again. A scream. Muffled, like it was being held

back by something. A gag? A piece of cloth?

“Shit, shit, shit.” I opened my phone again, holding it at a higher angle to see if the reception was any better.

It wasn’t. I was on my own.

“Remember, this doesn’t have to be supernatural,” I reminded myself. “You could have just stumbled onto a normal serial killer’s house. Or backwoods mutants. Hillbilly Bob and the Freakshow gang.”

I looked down into the hallway. The coast was clear. Moving stealthily, I rounded the stairs and came upon the living room. An old wooden door with telltale red stains at the bottom of it was there. Blood. The door probably led to the basement.

Right on cue, the muffled scream came again. Followed by a scraping sound that made my blood run cold. Someone was sharpening a tool. Maybe an ax?

I debated between the stake and my silver dagger. Sure, a wooden stake could cause massive amounts of damage, even to a human body, when thrown properly, but the dagger was my favorite. Gripping the plain hilt (no jewels, they made it too slippery), I crossed the floor and slowly opened the door.

As I did that, the front door behind me blew open and I could hear the vampires screaming. I tried to turn back, but the basement door was slippery underneath my hands. Wet with blood on the other side. I could barely hang on, it was threatening to close on me, but I jammed my boot inside and wedged myself into the stairwell.

It was poorly lit, and I stepped carefully as I made my way down. The basement smelled moldy, with the scent of rotten meat hanging heavy on the air. Dirty kerosene lamps were strung up in a row around the ceiling, and some of them were still smoking. Hastily blown out in an attempt to conceal whatever was down here. Luckily, whoever had done it had missed one.

A whimper came from the corner.

With my free hand I dug out my mini flashlight and directed it to where I’d heard the sound. The lamp wasn’t strong enough to cast its weak glow all the way over there.

Steeling myself for what I’d find, I was sure that it was going to be something hideous. Something monstrous. It would be deformed. Missing arms and legs. Maybe the head would be gone, or tossed in a corner. And it . . .

It . . . was a boy.

A shirtless boy, with a fresh cut across his bare chest.

So, I did what any normal person would have done in the same situation. I just stared at him. I mean, what are the odds of finding a cute, shirtless boy strapped to a table and waiting for me? I thought about taking out my phone to video him, but figured that was probably too much.

His arms and legs were held in place with heavy leather straps that looked like they belonged in a psych ward. But his eyes were wild and pleading. He made a sound again and strained against his bonds.

That shook me out of my lust-induced stupor, and I went right to work. Wedging the flashlight under my chin, I freed his left leg, and then the right. “I’m going to get you out of here,” I said calmly, switching to his arms. “It won’t take much longer.”

His head thrashed, and I realized that the gag was still in place. I reached up for it, and he spat it out as soon as it was loose. “Hurry up,” he said in a harsh whisper. “A crazy guy lives here and he cut me. I think he wants my heart.”

That was bad news. “He’s hideous,” the boy said. “Scarred. And his parts . . . I don’t think they’re all his.”

His arms were almost free, but I stopped working for a minute. “His parts? What do you mean?”

“His arms and, I think, his legs. They don’t match. One is longer than the other. And they’re different colors. Sort of blue or purple.”

Really bad news.

I knew where this was going and I didn’t like the sound of it. “Does he have scars around his neck?”

“Yeah. I think so. Although I wasn’t really checking out the guy’s neck when he started to rip me open.”

“Any scars on his wrists? I need you to think. This is really important.”

“Think? All I want to do is get the fuck out of here. Who are you?”

“Someone who got lost in the woods,” I said absentmindedly, mentally running through the list of supplies that I knew I had with me.

The guy sat up. “Look, I don’t know who you are, or if you know who that crazy dude is, but I’m just a guy with a flat. Let me out of here and I swear you’ll never see me again.”

“You had a flat tire?” I asked.