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by Raymond Mayotte

© copyright 2003 by Raymond Mayotte - All Rights Reserved.

This excerpt may not be reproduced in part or in whole without the express written permission of the author.

excerpt #1.

In the dampness of the deep cave Khufu awakes early in the evening to watch the last rays of sunlight lingering in the outside world. The snow and Ice of the long winter has melted away and a warm breeze now wafts into the cave, the breeze bringing with it the scent of growing things and a promise of spring.

With a deep sadness he watches as the panoramic view of the green growth below, and the deep blue of the sky above, pales to gray as darkness begins to swallow the world. Suddenly his senses become alert when he feels a slight movement in the air outside of the lofty cave and instinctively he crouches ready to defend himself.

Almost in the same instant a huge black bat drops silently down to hover before the mouth of the cave, the bat's beady eyes staring hard at Khufu revealing an evil intelligence deep within. For less than half of a heart beat the black bat hangs there soundlessly flapping it's leathery wings and in that time Khufu trys to enter its mind with his but to no avail.

"Here is the presence that hunts me," Khufu surmises, then in another half blink of an eye the menace in gone.

excerpt #2.

Twenty four year old Larry Haig grins and glares down at the bloody face of the old man he is pummeling with his big fist. The torn flesh around one of the old man's eyes laid open in a slab, the eyeball hanging loose from its socket and laying on his broken and split nose. On the muddy ground under their feet, the mud made by the blood pouring from the old man's nose and other wounds, lays a set of shattered dentures beat unmercifully from the old man's mouth by Larry's unending pounding.

Disappointed that his victim is unconscious and can not feel anymore pain, Larry lets the limp body slip to the gutter of the walkway, then with a quick glance around stuffs the eight dollars he has taken from the old man into the pocket of his dirty camouflage jacket.

"Cheap Bastard," he thinks, raising his fatigue cap with one hand and running his other hand over his clean shaven head. "How can I buy coke if these S-O-B's keep coming through here with only a few bucks on them?" Then with another curse he moves off down the dark walkway only to stop short, ten or twelve feet from where he has left his victim, to peer into the night.

Either his eyes are deceiving him or someone is standing alone under the lamplight on the bridge near the summer swan dock, and from what Larry can make out it looks like a young man. A young man that has watched Larry rob and beat the old man because he didn't have enough cash on him, and yet he stands there in the darkness watching Larry approach.

"Either this guy is stupid or to scared to move," Larry mumbles to himself, an evil leer breaking out on his unshaven face as he reaches into his pocket to fondle a long sharp knife he carrys there.

In rapid steps Larry approaches the bridge fearing that at any minute the man will turn and bolt, but to his surprise and wonder the man remains standing there grinning at him as he moves closer. At arms length from the man Larry pulls the knife from his pocket and reaches for the man's throat, but suddenly an unbearable pain shoots up his arm into his chest when, with unseen speed, the young man reaches out to close a vise like grip around Larrys wrist. In that instant Larry is on his knees in agony the knife on the ground forgotten.

In a futile attempt Larry reaches up with his other hand to pry his wrist loose from the painful grip and instantly finds that wrist also encircled by the bone crushing fingers of the man. The pain flooding up through Larry's arms to his chest now becoming unbearable, causing him to almost loose consciousness. Through tear filled eyes he stares up into the smiling face of his tormenter, the sound of the bones in his wrist cracking and splintering under the increasing pressure. Then, to add to the terror that has already overwhelmed him, a smile crosses the lips of his would be victim beore the lips draw back to reveal two canine teeth, and Larry relizes that this is no ordinary man.

With ease Larry's tormenter draws him close to bite deeply into the pulsing jugular vein of his neck, the sharp fang-like teeth puncturing the flesh without resistance. The scream of terror issuing from Larry echoing long and loud through the night ignored by all, all aware that it must be the cry of another victim being mugged somewhere deep in the park.

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