lurched slowly
toward her. Her eyes focused on the kick aimed at her
head.
She couldn’t let the
killing blow fall. The Pulptress balanced her weight on her hands
and pivoted. The blow puffed her hair, missing her head by the
barest margin. She drove her foot into Von Rohm’s exposed ankle.
The limb popped like a snapped tree branch.
The Pulptress leaped to her
feet. The flesh tightened around her jaw, she would be sporting a
massive bruise within minutes. She climbed wearily to her feet, her
spaghetti legs quivered. Her only thought was to end this
quickly!
Von Rohm backed away, his
face covered in fresh cuts and bruises. The healing factor slowed
by the multitude of gaping wounds. “This isn’t finished. I will
have my revenge.” Fog rose from the ground, covering his feet,
engulfing his knees. “Your friends are hiding at the mansion. Their
deaths will be my vengeance.” The dense vapor rose to his chest and
covered his head. In an instant it disappeared, swallowed by the
night.
She squinted into the
darkness. The small bank of fog moved away from the dwellings
returning to the Old Charles Mansion. “I’ve got to get back there.
That thing will kill everyone unless I stop it.”
She charged ahead, chasing
a phantom. A dull ache centered in her swollen jaw, the night air
burned her throat. The Pulptress ignored the pain, shuttled it away
to some dark corner of her brain and locked it away. Her pumping
legs, swiftly covered the ground, her mind focused on a single
goal. Save Roscoe and his friends.
The mist settled on the
granite steps. It bulged and contorted, bending itself into Oskar
Von Rohm. He cast a hurried glance over his shoulder. The wounds
covering his face were scabbed over and crusty. He limped slightly,
as he climbed the stairs.
“ Away from me, Woman,” he
shouted. “I will be whole in seconds while you are spent and
tired.”
“ You’re not as confident as
you sound.” She bounded up the outside steps.
Von Rohm waited for her on
the porch, his face creased in a snarl. “I’ll not underestimate you
again. I won’t hold back any longer. Now is the hour of your
death.”
The stiff wind whipped the
cloak around his shoulders. He caught the lower hem. “Come my
pets.”
Rats jumped from the folds.
Hundreds of vermin with sharp chisel teeth scampered around her
ankles and jumped on her legs. Claws sliced into her calves, teeth
gnawed her ankles. She swatted the animals away, stomping on a
handful with her bulky shoes. Warm blood covered her legs and
feet.
A powerful blow cracked her
rib with an audible snap. Pain erupted through her side. An open
handed slap struck her swollen jaw and sent her sprawling. The rats
swarmed over her body, seeking her eyes.
“ You’re mine now. You’ll
make a faithful servant after I’ve broken you to my will. You will
be my willing crippled servant.” An evil smile split Von Rohm’s
face. Hands fisted in her blouse, he lifted The Pulptress into the
air. “Away with you now, your task in completed.” The rats
scattered, disappearing into the night. He pushed her head to one
side, exposing her warm inviting throat.
Drops of saliva fell from
the open mouth, burning like acid on her skin. The Pulptress
gritted her teeth against the pain. Off balance, she lashed out in
desperation. Her right hand struck Von Rohm’s strong jaw with
little effect. Her eyes gazed into the nobleman’s red rimmed orbs,
seeing only the lust for death and suffering.
“ Get off her.” Betty ran to
her side. A large silver crucifix gripped in her fist. She pressed
the sacred object against the monster’s cheek.
“ No!” Von Rohm screamed.
Smoke billowing from his face. He dropped The Pulptress, fleeing
from the pain. His eyes locked on Betty’s face. “You! Why do you
attack me? I spared you many years ago and this is how you repay
me.”
“ I lied to myself for years,
convinced myself you weren’t real. That you were only a figment of
my imagination, but no
toward her. Her eyes focused on the kick aimed at her
head.
She couldn’t let the
killing blow fall. The Pulptress balanced her weight on her hands
and pivoted. The blow puffed her hair, missing her head by the
barest margin. She drove her foot into Von Rohm’s exposed ankle.
The limb popped like a snapped tree branch.
The Pulptress leaped to her
feet. The flesh tightened around her jaw, she would be sporting a
massive bruise within minutes. She climbed wearily to her feet, her
spaghetti legs quivered. Her only thought was to end this
quickly!
Von Rohm backed away, his
face covered in fresh cuts and bruises. The healing factor slowed
by the multitude of gaping wounds. “This isn’t finished. I will
have my revenge.” Fog rose from the ground, covering his feet,
engulfing his knees. “Your friends are hiding at the mansion. Their
deaths will be my vengeance.” The dense vapor rose to his chest and
covered his head. In an instant it disappeared, swallowed by the
night.
She squinted into the
darkness. The small bank of fog moved away from the dwellings
returning to the Old Charles Mansion. “I’ve got to get back there.
That thing will kill everyone unless I stop it.”
She charged ahead, chasing
a phantom. A dull ache centered in her swollen jaw, the night air
burned her throat. The Pulptress ignored the pain, shuttled it away
to some dark corner of her brain and locked it away. Her pumping
legs, swiftly covered the ground, her mind focused on a single
goal. Save Roscoe and his friends.
The mist settled on the
granite steps. It bulged and contorted, bending itself into Oskar
Von Rohm. He cast a hurried glance over his shoulder. The wounds
covering his face were scabbed over and crusty. He limped slightly,
as he climbed the stairs.
“ Away from me, Woman,” he
shouted. “I will be whole in seconds while you are spent and
tired.”
“ You’re not as confident as
you sound.” She bounded up the outside steps.
Von Rohm waited for her on
the porch, his face creased in a snarl. “I’ll not underestimate you
again. I won’t hold back any longer. Now is the hour of your
death.”
The stiff wind whipped the
cloak around his shoulders. He caught the lower hem. “Come my
pets.”
Rats jumped from the folds.
Hundreds of vermin with sharp chisel teeth scampered around her
ankles and jumped on her legs. Claws sliced into her calves, teeth
gnawed her ankles. She swatted the animals away, stomping on a
handful with her bulky shoes. Warm blood covered her legs and
feet.
A powerful blow cracked her
rib with an audible snap. Pain erupted through her side. An open
handed slap struck her swollen jaw and sent her sprawling. The rats
swarmed over her body, seeking her eyes.
“ You’re mine now. You’ll
make a faithful servant after I’ve broken you to my will. You will
be my willing crippled servant.” An evil smile split Von Rohm’s
face. Hands fisted in her blouse, he lifted The Pulptress into the
air. “Away with you now, your task in completed.” The rats
scattered, disappearing into the night. He pushed her head to one
side, exposing her warm inviting throat.
Drops of saliva fell from
the open mouth, burning like acid on her skin. The Pulptress
gritted her teeth against the pain. Off balance, she lashed out in
desperation. Her right hand struck Von Rohm’s strong jaw with
little effect. Her eyes gazed into the nobleman’s red rimmed orbs,
seeing only the lust for death and suffering.
“ Get off her.” Betty ran to
her side. A large silver crucifix gripped in her fist. She pressed
the sacred object against the monster’s cheek.
“ No!” Von Rohm screamed.
Smoke billowing from his face. He dropped The Pulptress, fleeing
from the pain. His eyes locked on Betty’s face. “You! Why do you
attack me? I spared you many years ago and this is how you repay
me.”
“ I lied to myself for years,
convinced myself you weren’t real. That you were only a figment of
my imagination, but no
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