"The Chase" by Michael J. Walker Esq.

We ran, and it followed.

We knew not where it came from, or why it was chasing us. But one thing seemed apparent: It was out for blood.

An earth-shattering roar pierced the air, and the three of us ran even faster across the parking lot. We dashed through rows of cars, hoping that maybe the beast would trip over the huge machines, or at least be slowed down a bit.

“Make for the woods!” I yelled, and Johnny and Rich followed my lead. We sprinted to the trees, and once we were about twenty feet in, we all stopped for a short break. It was dangerous, of course, but after the last thirty minutes (which we had spent running) it was really impossible to continue without a short rest. I leaned against a tree and looked towards the beast that was following us.

It was behind a few rows of cars, but it looked to be nearly fifteen feet tall, so that really wasn’t an issue. The dæmon’s flesh was bright red and it glistened slightly in the sun. Cloven hoofs smashed asphalt as they came into contact with the ground. The face was a gross perversion of the human form, with a horn protruding from each cheekbone and mouth frozen in a continuous snarl, revealing razor-sharp fangs. Another horn sprouted from behind each temple, and curved around like a ram’s. The body was a mass of muscle and sinew, clad only in a dirty loincloth. As it came to the first row of cars, the dæmon grunted and pushed them aside with one three-clawed hand.

My jaw dropped at the sheer unholy strength of the thing, and I just darted in terror. Johnny and Rich followed.

“Dammit, Dana!” Rich screamed. “I knew that book was bad news!”

Of course, I thought. The book. I kicked myself mentally for the stupid thing I had done. I found the book in an antique store a few weeks ago, and bought the ancient tome for only five dollars. It was covered in dust and the parchment was old and brittle. The writing inside was a language I had never seen before, written in a strange dark brown ink.

The next day, Rich and Johnny had come over to my house after school. I had told them about it during the day, and while Johnny’s curiosity was piqued, Rich was apprehensive. I believe his first words on the subject were that nothing good ever comes from strange books like that.

But we didn’t believe him, and the first thing we did at my house was crack the thing open and see if we could decipher anything. And when we came to a page written in the Roman alphabet, I did something that goes against every horror movie I’ve ever seen.

I read the incantation.

Nothing happened then, of course, but it was easy to see what I had done now.

I heard a particularly loud crash and stole a glance behind me. The dæmon had thrown the last row of cars out of its way and was moving towards the trees.

“Split up!” I cried as it pushed over the first few trees in its path. We all darted in different directions. I ran straight forward. Rich and Johnny disappeared from sight.

Soon the ground began to slope upward. Every so often I heard the beast roar behind me, but it seemed to be growing fainter. I sat down on a rock after a few minutes. It was too exhausting to keep on going without a rest.

But Johnny’s scream brought me back to reality and my feet. I kept running.

I muttered curses under my breath. Johnny was probably dead. The dæmon was still following, unfightable, unbeatable. There was nothing left to do save run.

Another deep roar resounded through the forest.

Then there was another sound: Rich’s terrified scream.

“Oh, god…” I whispered. I was the only one left.

I ran, fueled by another burst of adrenaline. The ground kept sloping and the terrain grew a bit rocky, making footing difficult to find. Still, I pressed on.

Suddenly and without warning, the dæmon appeared in front of me in a burst of sulfur. I screamed in terror and tried to back away, but the savage beast simply roared. I tripped on a root and lost my balance, toppling ten, twenty feet down the hill, rolling down the uneven ground. I landed on my back, looking up at the sky. The rocks had surely bruised me and I was unsure if maybe I had broken my wrist on one of the sharper, more jutting rocks.

But I had little time to ponder this, because above me the dæmon appeared, diving with both clawed hands outstretched. I rolled to my left, and barely avoided the deathblow. 

I struggled to my feet while the behemoth tried to pull its hands out of the earth and began running once more. But the dæmon did not let me get far before it snatched my ankle.

I fell, landing roughly, mouth full of dirt.

The dæmon grabbed me by the back of my shirt. It flipped me over, and I lay on my back, terrified of the menace above me.

It knelt down and pulled me up by throat. Our noses were barely an inch apart, and I felt myself melt in pure fear as I looked into the fiery eyes.

“Tag,” he growled.