'Somebody's figured it out.'
'Huh?'
'Somebody knows we did it.'
'Who?'
'Three guesses.'
He shakes his head and unwraps the rope at his feet. He rubs his ankles. 'Just tell me, okay?'
'Your adorable fiancee.'
'You're kidding.'
'Think about it. She saw us. She put it all together.'
He scowls and shakes his head. 'I guess… maybe so. What do you think she's gonna do?'
'I don't know, but we'd better get out of here.' She helps him to his feet. They stand by the coffin, each silently scanning the cellar.
Behind them, the coffin lid is flung off. They whirl around. Inside the coffin, a hooded figure sits up. The hood belongs to a warm-up jacket worn backwards. Ragged holes have been cut for eyes and mouth.
As the figure stands up, the man and woman back away. It steps out of the coffin, bare feet crushing the bones on the cellar's dirt floor.
'It's her,' the woman says.
The man shakes his head. He is pale and trembling.
'What do you want?'
The figure doesn't answer.
'Let's take her,' mutters the woman. 'Now!' She attacks.
Alone.
The hooded one grabs her arms, pivots, slams her to the floor, and steps past her.
'It is you,' the man says, moving backwards. 'You think I…' He shrieks as a kick smashes his left knee. He drops sideways, screaming. Before he hits the floor, a second kick shatters his right knee.
The hooded one pivots and shoots knuckles into the face of the attacking woman. The blow slams her backwards. The nape of her neck hits the coffins' edge. Her head snaps back.
She jerks and trembles as if a thousand volts are ripping through her body. Then she slumps.
Slender figures press her neck as if seeking a pulse. Then the hooded one straddles her body, grips her beneath the arms, and wrestles her into the coffin.
The man is still on the floor, whimpering.
The hooded one drags him to the coffin.
'No!' he cries. 'No, please! I'll do anything! Whatever you say!'
'Confess.'
'Okay! I did it. We both did it. There!'
'Get in the coffin.'
'No!'
Screaming, he fights as the hooded one struggles to lift him. His hands jerk open the jacket. He pounds the bare back, claws furrows in the skin. He rips at the blonde hair behind the hood. Then he falls into the coffin on top of the woman. Grabbing its edges, he pulls himself up. A fist smashes his nose, and he drops away.
The hooded one places the lid on the coffin.
Muffled screams rage inside the coffin as the lid is nailed down.
THE END
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Richard Laymon, Out Are the Lights
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends