SYNOPSIS:

Teaser: The New York City pavement was still cold and wet under foot, from a down pour that dumped buckets of rain for a couple of hours continuously, as Margret hurried home from the neighborhood shopping center in the dark. At seventy four years of age it was highly unusual for her to be out after dark but she had been caught unprepared without an umbrella and with an arm loaded with groceries in a paper sack she did not want to get wet. Waiting out the storm while talking to Ernie from the coffee shop, in the shopping center, was easy enough. However ever since leaving the coffee shop she had the strangest feeling, that feeling you get when you are all alone in the dark and you know there is something evil watching you. Margret quickens her pace as she passes through a section where several homeless people sleep under card board boxes and newspapers in the nooks and crannies of the Brownstone buildings that forty years ago had been considered a decent neighborhood, but was now plagued by poverty and corruption. The sound of vehicle tires on wet asphalt splashing through puddles along with the sound of the elevated train overhead, dogs barking in the distance, music, police sirens, and people talking here and there, combined to make a steady stream of noise overwhelming her hearing aids to the point where she couldn’t tell one noise from the next. Her vision was corrected with bifocal lenses and while decent during the day, at night she could hardly see more than a few yards before the shadows and shapes became one dark world. She is getting close to her home, an old three story apartment building, that she had moved to after her husband of forty five years died. She found the small apartment easier to manage than the bigger home they owned in the same neighborhood just a few streets over. She had lived in this same neighborhood for almost fifty years now and just couldn’t see herself moving to a new place after Seymour had passed. She read the paper and watched the news every day so she knew the area was getting more dangerous as the years speed by but she had seen entire families grow up here and knew everyone by first name and didn’t want to leave for Florida like so many of her bingo buddies have done. If she had been a few years younger, if her hearing had been better, or her vision a little clearer then she may have seen what she was feeling watching her from distance. Walking quietly in his well worn converse, pants ripped and soiled from being worn for days without washing, hands buried in the pockets of his dark red hooded sweat shirt decorated with black skulls and crossed bones, he watches Margret with eyes hidden in the shadow of his hood. His body language says predator and if you could see his ill intent it would be radiating off his young athletic frame like the steaming vapor coming from his breath in the cool night air. He has kept his eye on Margret ever since she left the small bank next to the grocery store in the shopping center. He watched her in the store at the check-out line. A loaf of bread, a half gallon of milk, half dozen eggs, a cheap novel and an old movie off the discount rack told him she lives alone. She paid cash and tossed the receipt in the trash can just outside the main entrance to the store, near where this creature had been smoking his last cigarette while watching her through the big windows between the large advertisements for toilet paper and dog food on sale. After she had hurried down the sidewalk to the coffee shop as the rain started coming down, the predatory miscreant pulled the receipt from the trash can, which read: total twenty one dollars and fifty four cents, cash tendered one hundred dollars, change seventy eight dollars and forty six cents. Just enough for a quick high and who knows there could be a couple more hundred dollar bills in that gaudy purse only and granny would carry. As he trailed behind her on the other side of the street he thought how easy it was going to be to pry the bag from her ancient fingers. He could see by the way she kept shifting the weight of the small bag of edibles that she was frail and week. He imagined her arms wrinkled with loose skin with biceps smaller in diameter than his wrist would be easy enough to yank the purse from. Crossing the street between the passing cars he began to close the distance. This was not his first time he had snatched a purse. He had done much worse in his sixteen years on this planet. As he got within ten yards from the old woman and she speed up while looking at the homeless vagrants sleeping between trash cans, under the bus stop benches buried in trash bags and card board boxes. He noticed she clutched her purse to her chest as a subconscious reflex more than anything but he knew it would make his task that much more difficult, better to wait until she was more relaxed. Margret stopped at a street corner to wait for the pedestrian crossing signal to change. Once she was across the street she just had to go up the stairs into her building where she would feel a little safer until she could reach the sanctuary of her tiny apartment and the warmth of her favorite bed robe and house slippers. She crossed the busy intersection at her fastest speed and still didn’t reach the other side before the green man on the signal had changed to a red hand telling her it was no longer safe. A couple of cars honked their horns and some jerk actually yelled “get a walker and move your old ass faster!” as he drove around Margret just before she reached the safety of the curb. As she neared the door she started to dig in her purse for the key to the security door to the main entrance of the apartment building. When suddenly she was struck by what at first she thought must have been a runaway train. The force of the line backer style tackle knocked her to the ground, leaving one of her shoes on the steps to the apartment building, her glasses went flying into the busy street while all the store bought goods scattered down the wet sidewalk. Before she could fully comprehend what was happening she began receiving a flurry of blows to the face that hit with such force that her lower denture split in two and went skittering across the sidewalk. One of the blows bounced her head off the concrete so hard that is sounded like a bowling ball being dropped on marble. She faded to black as her purse was ripped from her grasp. The young criminal looked down at the limp body of the aged widower as she bled from the nose, mouth, and eye. A large black man who witnessed the assault yells as he runs toward the scene. The slender teenager knows he could be in danger of being caught and beaten and quickly decides to flee. He takes off as fast as his legs can carry him with the big man close on his tail. He knows he can out run this older out of shape donut junkie and laughed as he jumped over a bench and a pile of trash bags on the curb side. The older man chasing him stopped bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. When the hooded little bastard looked back and saw the old fat beer bellied “want to be hero” had stopped chasing him he laughed while flipping him the finger and walking backward saying, “ Fuck you fat bastard! If you hadn’t been such a looser you could have…” Wham! A bus comes out of nowhere striking the hooded little juvenile delinquent with all twenty two tons of its mass plus the momentum generated by its speed of thirty five miles per hour. This was seen at regular speed by everyone on the street and seen in slow motion by the want to be hero as the kinetic energy crushed the boys shoulder, ribs, pelvis, and broke both legs. His head hit the driver’s window causing the glass to explode into cubes and slivers. The boy’s body flew into the air like a rag doll travelling over fifty seven feet horizontally. When he finally hit the ground he rolled end over end further breaking his arm and lower back. Pieces of turn signal and headlights danced around his bloody remains like diamonds being thrown across a Las Vegas Craps table. For a second the kid’s eyes were open just before his last breath escaped his lungs in a steaming vapor followed by a blood filled gurgle. The boy’s eyes lost their shine and he was gone. The dirty little street rat never knew what hit him. The large black man calls 911 on his mobile phone and tries to remain calm. There were two people down and bleeding in less than one city block and while most people just rubbernecked as they walked or drove past the scenes, a few came out to help. It was just another night in New York, were a death happens every fifteen minutes, no one gives a damn and we still try to call it civilization.

NOVEL: DEMON BY KNIGHT BY DAVID W. GRAY

teaser #2: Sheppard holds out his hand again. This time a red ball of light forms in his palm and violently strikes David in the forehead flooding his mind with information. Names and faces stream through his mind showing him all the violent acts carried out by the people whose faces and names are now in his mind. They are a group of criminals and David watches their violent history of brutal crimes against the innocent play in his mind like a highlight reel of a horror movie. Once the visions have stopped Sheppard looks David in the eyes. “You must return to New York and stop them tonight. Shimmer will take you to the portal. Go, go now. I will be able to guide you. You only have to listen and obey.” Shimmer and David take off running through the tunnels as fast as they can. David is surprised at how quickly Shimmer can run. His silver form reflects the light from the torches and the blue worms sticking out of the walls and ceiling lighting their way. After a few miles Shimmer stops in front of what appears to be a mirror on the wall. Shimmer motions to David to go into the mirror. David cautiously reaches out and touches the mirror only to realize that is it liquid when ripples form around his finger tips. He takes a deep breath, “Here goes nothing.” He mutters as steps into the portal. In an instant he feels like his is being sucked though time and space in a vacuum tube. Without warning he plummets out of the darkness into a large concrete tunnel that smells terrible, like a sewer filled with fish and salt water. His feet feel wet under the weight of his large body. He begins to move forward slowly, cautiously, when he suddenly hears Sheppard’s voice. “Move faster, you don’t have much time. You must complete the mission and return to this portal before it closes at sunrise. Head towards the light, quickly child, you must hurry.” David looks around the tunnel to make sure he is in fact alone. Then he decides to obey Sheppard by running on all fours like the big cat he is. He can just barely make out the dot of light at the end of the tunnel as it grows brighter and larger in front of him. Once he is close enough he can see that the tunnel leads out to a water way, most likely the harbor. Once he gets to the mouth of the tunnel he climbs up over the drainage pipe’s lip to stand on top of the concrete tube and look at the surrounding area. Over an old rusted fence that is immediately in front of David as he faces away from the water is a huge industrial building. The fence has a sign that reads Kill Van Kull industrial complex has been deemed unsafe. Do not enter. Trespassers will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. David now knows where he is. He has surfaced out of a drain pipe that dumps into the Kill Van Kull water way between Shooter’s Island, near Newark Bay and Arthur Kill Harbor. He has surfaced on the south side in the middle of what has become homicide central over the last few years. This is where the gangs have been industrializing their drug labs in the condemned buildings. The police stay away from the area out of a very real fear of washing up some place along the shore line weeks after going missing as happened to several in the mid 2000’s after the economy crashed and the drug trade took off. “Head toward the buildings, get to the roof tops and try not to be seen by too many humans.” Sheppard’s voice says in an urgent tone. David leaps the fence in a single bound and starts running toward the buildings on all fours to cover as much distance as quickly as possible. Also he hopes that if anyone sees him they will think he is a jaguar or something, not the monster he is tonight. David jumps to a dumpster next to a ten story building then leaps straight up eight more floors using his powerful claws to make his way up the remaining floor, gaining the high vantage point of the roof. Sleeping pigeons wake and take flight as David runs across the roof top that is cluttered with old dismantled air conditioners, lawn chairs, and beer bottles. An attractive young woman walks to her car wrapped in her big over coat. Her long black hair blows in the chilly night breeze as she hurries to get to her old faded red Toyota Camry with its dented rear fender and busted tail light. She tries to start the car but it refuses to turn over in the cold. She kisses her hand then rubs the kiss into the dash saying “Come on girl, be a good girl and start for momma.” She tries it again and after a moment’s protest the little car stutters to a start. She rejoices inside the car, doing a little happy dance. “That’s my baby! I ain’t ever going to trade you in. I am going to fix you all up and make you like new.” She turns on the radio and rubs her hands together trying to force the blood into her cold fingers while the car warms up. Soon she is driving along the nearly deserted streets at three in the morning headed home from work. She sits at a red light digging in her purse while the passenger in a white panel van next to her watches her every move. He is a black male in his mid twenties with his Yankees hat on a little crooked and his hoodie pulled up over his ball cap, his big jacket makes it look as if his shoulders start at his earlobes. He is not unattractive despite the six tear drop tattoos leading down his cheek from his right eye. He says something to the driver all the while never taking his eyes from the pretty young Latina in the car next to them. The light turns green and the young lady looks up from her purse and pulls away while applying her lip balm in the rear view mirror. She gets on the express way without giving a second thought to the large van that has pulled behind her. The traffic is light and the snow from the night before still covers the sides of the expressway. She is humming along to a song on the radio. The only other noise is the sound of her tires on the wet asphalt. Without warning she feels a hard impact to the rear of her car. She panics when her car veers to the left sliding on the wet pavement and over corrects. She loses control and spins into a sound barrier wall at sixty miles an hour. Her little car slams hard against the wall sliding and grinding against it until it comes to a stop just before the next exit ramp. Her air bag deploys striking her in the face. She is dazed and disoriented when she realizes there is someone at her driver’s side window knocking on it with a gloved hand while trying to open her locked door. The bright lights from the vehicle that has stopped behind her reflect off her review mirrors and fills the interior of the car with so much light that she can’t make out the face of the person knocking at her window. She can barely hear them asking her if she is alright. She thinks it could be a concerned passerby or a cop and rolls down the window just enough to shout through the three inches between the glass and frame. “I think I am okay, but you might want to check the car that hit me.” “Are you sure you’re alright?” the man asks. She turns and looks up at him and can just make out that he is a white guy in his twenties, maybe. “Yeah I am a little shook up, but I think I am alright.” She replies. “Good.” Is all she hears before a tire iron comes smashing through the window sending glass cubes flying across the interior of the small car. She reels away from the noise and shattering glass with her arms up over her face to protect it from the flying shards. The man reaches in the window and opens the driver’s side door using the interior handle which automatically pops the recessed lock. Before she can react she is pulled from her car by two men and thrown thru the open cargo door of the waiting van. The door is slammed closed as the van speeds away. The young woman fights throwing punches and kicks at her aggressors, but they are of little use. She lacks enough strength to harm them through their thick over coats. Soon one of the men has her in a choke hold from behind and with his legs wrapped around her small body trapping one arm. Her free hand is trying to pull his arm from crushing her airway. He stretches, arching his back, strangling her to near unconsciousness. Her grip on his powerful forearm around her throat relaxes then falls away. She is released, rolling onto her stomach, and her head is covered in something that smells of burlap and grease as she tries to catch her breath. One man sits on her butt and forces her hands behind her back. Simultaneously the other man duct tapes her feet together at the ankles. The two men in the back are conversing with each other and the driver, shouting, laughing and congratulating each other on their catch. “Give me the tape dawg; this bitch could wake up any second!” She hears one say to another. “Hold your fucking horses’ nigga! I ain’t finished with it yet!” “Shit man you picked one hot ass little momma tonight! Look at that ass in those pants! I am going to tear that shit up man!” The last comment sinks fear into the young woman’s heart. She knows this is going to be the worst night of her life if not the last night. Meanwhile, David continues his acrobatic journey over the urban industrial jungle following the directions given every few seconds by the unseen Sheppard. He Jumps to a water tower on top of a steel mill and launches to perch on a telephone pole before leaping to a roof top where Sheppard tells him to wait and rest. The blind folded young woman can hear the difference in the sound of the tires on the road as the white van drives off the solid ground and over a long bridge. The rhythmic thumping of the tires going over the joints in the bridge combined with the ten minutes they have already spent diving on the expressway lead the young woman to believe they are crossing the Bayonne Bridge towards the old shipping yards and industrial complexes on Kill Van Kull. A place she once knew well, where her father used to work before the recession, mass layoffs, and outsourcing of jobs to third world counties with endless supplies of cheap labor. She tries to listen to her kidnappers conversations, but they seem to be whispering to one another. Their demented laughter is all she that can be heard clearly through the itchy burlap sack and over the vehicle and road noise. She can smell alcohol and a strange burnt chemical like odor inside the van mixed with gas fumes. She thinks one guy sounds white and one black, but she can’t be certain. She begins to think back to her days in college when she had to sit through a rape prevention class as part of her women’s health studies. The class was meant to help her understand rape victims better. However it talked at good deal about what the women teaching the class had done to try to survive. “Why are you doing this to me?” she asked through her burlap hood, in an attempt to get one of them to speak to her on a human level. “What the fuck did she just say?” She heard one of the kidnappers ask another. “Holly shit man I think she is awake dude.” “Good, give me that knife I am going to cut those pants off so I can see if she has any panties on.” She starts to back away from the voices toward the back double doors of the van. “Just wait a couple more minutes’ homie we are almost to the spot.” She feels around in the space behind her back with her tapped together hands. All she can feel is loose papers on the carpeted floor and a slight chill coming thru a crack in the doors. David sits perched on the corner ledge of the old steel mill. His menacing black form squats between the wings of a large stone eagle that adorns the front of the twelve story building. Looking over the vast concrete labyrinth that stretches for miles before him he wonders where his prey is and why he is just sitting here waiting when time seemed such a huge factor only ten minutes ago. Sheppard’s voice comes into his head like a ghostly whisper. “Go to the rear of the building to the loading docks and tell me what you see.” David turns with such a quickness that his tail can be heard cutting the wind behind him like a knife. He jumps over air conditioning ducts and dives thru the “O” in the words “American Pride Steel Works” on the old unlit neon sign that could once been seen for miles, but now seems dead. The pigeons that were sleeping in a cooling tower take flight as David shoots past them. He reaches the back edge of the roof and looks down. “I see nothing,” he says with disappointment in his voice. “Patience my son, all you need is patience.” Just then a white van rounds the corner of the building in reverse, backing up into the loading docks that are cluttered with dumpsters, trash cans, and old palettes. David’s eyes focus on it. “I see a white van below me.” “There will be several men and one female in that conveyance. Destroy the men in that van. Bring pain, death, and destruction on those who bring it on the innocent. This will be your first step towards redemption.” Inside the van the three kidnappers are salivating at the thought of forcing this young woman into submission. They relish the thought of punishing her young body and abusing it. They are getting riled up and rowdy as the adrenaline begins to mix with testosterone in their blood. They are getting louder and more aggressive. “I want to see this bitch naked! I want to stick it in her ass!” one of the voices declares to his friends, “After me asshole, I am not getting no sloppy seconds!” The frightened young female is still trying to back away but can’t seem to slip through the crack in the back doors as she so desperately wishes she could. “If you just let me go I won’t call the cops. I won’t tell anyone. I don’t even know what you look like! Please don’t do this! What did I do to you to deserve this?” She pleads. “Shut up cunt! This is your destiny! You were built for fucking and that’s just what we’re going to do. You know you’re going to like even if you say you won’t.” The obvious leader says as he grabs her by her shirt and tries to rip it apart tearing it slightly at the V-neck. He snatches her small gold cross necklace from between her breasts and tosses it over his shoulder. “He ain’t going to save you.” He says as he lifts her by her torn shirt and slams her against the back doors of the van. Her tiny hands find the door handle and give it a yank just as he punches her in the face sending her flying out of the van. She falls out of the van on her back knocking two fifty five gallon drums full of debris over. Her hood has come up revealing her face. David observes the scene unfolding from his vantage point twelve floors above the loading dock. The driver of the van jumps out from the front wearing a red ball cap turned backwards and a heavy black jacket with a white skull and crossed bones on the back. A large framed black male in a baseball cap and hooded sweatshirt under a heavy brown coat and baggie blue jeans, who seems to be the leader of the pack, hops out of the rear double door barking orders to the driver. David can see the woman still on her back trying to get her feet under her without success. A slender white man in a beanie and blue flannel and black jeans climbs out of the rear of the van and hands the leader, who is also biggest of the three, a large survival knife. David can smell the woman’s fear riding the wind up the side of the building. Evil permeates the entire area telling David that this place has seen the handy work of these sinners before. The slender white man grabs a small two gallon gas can out of the van and walks over to one of the fifty five gallon drums full of trash, pours in some gas and lights it with his cigarette lighter. The leader grabs the woman by her hair and drags her to the base of the loading docks. The driver climbs on the dock and bangs on one of the big rolling garage style doors then jumps back down to help the leader who is struggling to cut the clothes off the young woman as she screams. “Help, help me! Somebody please help me!” “Scream all you want ain’t no-body coming to save your ass now.” Leader says as he removes the blade of the big knife from her throat and positions it between her breast inside her shirt and under her bra with the tip pointing down. In one violent motion he jerks the knife down slicing her shirt and bra open. She inhales in surprise. The driver pulls her heavy coat and shirt back over her shoulders and down her arms bunching it up around her hands. The slender white guy is has finished lighting several large barrels full of trash on fire creating the eerie effect of shadows dancing on the high walls around the macabre show. David readies himself to jump, moving up and onto the edge then hesitates stepping back, thinking about how he was just like the criminals he has been sent to kill. How ironic it is that now the gods have turned him into the killing machine he has always dreamt of becoming, spending days in jail day dreaming of what he would do to all the people that wronged him in his past if he could get away with it. He wonders why the gods have chosen to make him into a monster designed for killing. He thinks how much fun it is going to be to rip these weaklings apart with his new found strength in a nearly indestructible body with zero legal repercussions to worry about. When he hears one of the large garage doors open and two men appear he snaps back to reality. One lifts a bottle of Jack Daniels to his lips and takes a long pull then howls. “This is gonna be a night to remember!” He appears to be a mix bread human, part white part black. He is wearing baggie jeans and a heavy leather trench coat. The other newcomer is a black male wearing a blue jean jacket and black dickies pants that bunch up around the tops of his timberland boots. This character is carrying a heavy six foot length of chain. The driver and the newcomer in the blue jean jacket hold the petite female upright by her arms. The leader places the tip of the knife inside the waist line of the young woman’s trousers. They are thin cotton that is blue in color. David thinks she must be a nurse or work in a veterinarian’s office. The leader jerks the blade and cuts thru the elastic waist band. The pants start to fall towards her ankles but are held up by the leader. Then as if skinning a deer he slices down each leg until the pants fall away to be picked up and sniffed by the slender white male before he tosses them in a burning trash barrel. Her socks and shoes quickly follow her pants into the flames. Sheppard whispers in to David’s mind startling him. “You can delay no longer. They are all present. The time is now, destroy them.” “I just wanted to make sure that all the faces in my memory were present before I rushed into the situation.” David says defensively. David squats on the edge and picks a point on the ground below. With a slight hop he drops over the edge, falling silently feet first for twelve floors. His long braids and tail whistle through the cold night air. The ground rushes up at David at an ever increasing speed. With a slight thud and bounce he lands behind the large dumpster next to the van. Hearing David’s landing the slender white male that David knows is named Steven Winters, called Skank by his closest crime partners, turns to investigate the noise from near the van and dumpster. David can feel his presence and smell the drugs and booze oozing thru his pores as he walks toward him. David lets out a small “meow” mimicking an alley cat while flicking the tip of his tail out around the corner of the dumpster. “Fucking cat,” Skank mutters before returning to the others who are pushing each other around trying to decide who is going to penetrate the young woman after their “shot caller” has finished. David peeks into the van looking for any potential weapons or unexpected surprises. Other than a couple of alcohol bottles, piles of old porno magazines, and a tire iron with duct tape the van is empty. He notices a small necklace with a cross hanging tangled in the mardi gras beads and toy hand cuffs dangling from the rear view mirror. Sheppard sends a flash of images into David’s mind that shows Devon yanking the necklace from the girl’s neck from her perspective. Once the images have stopped David shakes his head to refocus on the task at hand. The flames from the barrels light the criminals casting their shadows on the walls and makes David think back to how Shimmer described the demons of old feeding on the souls of fallen warriors as he watches Devon “Dirty-D” Demarcus, the leader of the pack, unfastening his belt and pants. Chacumma Holmes, AKA “Chuck-Dawg” is taking off his long leather trench coat preparing himself to be ready when Dirty-D finishes, while “Peanut” also known as Peter Blackstone, pins the poor woman down by sitting on her chest with all of his two hundred and thirty pounds. He delivers occasional punches to her abdomen when she tries to twist away from his groping hands with probing fingers. Laughing at how useless her struggling is Peanut uses the big knife to cut her panties away and slash at her jacket. Then he cuts a strand of hair from her head and stuffs it in his pocket “This is for me to remember you by after you’re gone.” “In that case shave off a few of them pubes for me” Skank says while moving to help hold her down. David knows his quarry is now completely caught up in their vicious act, giving him the element of surprise, as if a seven foot humanoid cat wasn’t enough of a surprise. David reaches down and sticks his claws into a large manhole cover like it was a soft wheel of cheese that weighs sixty pounds. Lifting the steel disc and launching it in one fluid motion toward Devon who is standing with his pants around his ankles and his back toward the David’s position between the van and dumpster. The spinning steel disc strikes Devon in the small of his back and slams him against the concrete loading dock. The disc lodges in the concrete and Devon’s body is cleaved in two. His blood and intestinal juices splatter his crime partners and the loading dock while his upper torso slides onto the cargo bay ledge leaving a trail of blood and intestines in its wake. His lower half falls at the base of the loading dock next to the naked girl. Every one freezes in shock for a second, even the woman. They all look at the blood covering them and wonder where it is from. In that second the big black cat closes the distance and picks Skank up by his head, as if palming a basketball, slicing off his right arm in one swipe of his massive razor sharp claws. Arterial blood sprays, like a lawn sprinkler, from the stump where the arm once was. Skank screams and flails striking the beast in the face with his remaining hand while his legs kick in the air occasionally thumping against the muscled torso of the beast with steal toed boots. The monstrous creature lets out a roar and lops off Skank’s left arm. Then swinging across Skank’s mid-section with his claws he slices open his stomach, letting his guts fall to the ground, before crushing his head like and coconut. Peanut stabs the beast in its leg with the big knife as it tosses Skank’s body up against the edge of the opened garage door causing the door to come crashing down squishing Devon’s torso like a tomato. The big cat delivers a back kick to Peanut’s chest sending him crashing into a bared window, shattering the glass behind the instantly crushed bars, he then falls from the window several feet above the sidewalk and stairs leading to the loading platform. Chacumma takes off running for the van grabbing Peanut’s heavy chain as he tries to make his getaway. He is almost to the van when the big creature comes out of nowhere crashing down on the roof of the vehicle crushing it in and shattering the windshield under his massive weight. Chuck-Dawg yells “What the fuck are you?” The big beast roars and shakes its head in response. David wishes he could hear him saying “I am a thousand times the mother fucking monster you ever could have dreamt of becoming! I am Karma come full circle bitch.” In his fear all Chuck-Dawg can think to do is roar back and try to scare the nightmare away or scare himself awake. “Rah! Mother fucker rah, get back!” He shouts as he swings his big chain over his head like a bullwhip. The beast steps down from the crushed van and blocks Chuck’s only escape route between the van and building. Then the giant black lion like monster reaches for a three inch diameter drainage pipe running down the side of the building with one hand and rips it from the wall. Chuck lunges forward swinging his chain. The beast ducks under it. The woman watches in disbelief as a man battles a monster in front of her eyes. Chuck-Dawg takes another swing and this time the creature slings his ten foot section of pipe meeting the chain in mid swing. The chain wraps around the pipe gripping it and Chuck laughs nervously, “Ha what’re you gonna do now? I got your ass! I got you now mother fucker!” as he tries to yank the chain and pull the pipe away from the monster. The beast pulls back on the pipe and chain pulling Chuck-Dawg off balance in the beast’s direction then the creature lunges forward ramming the pipe thru the chest and back of the rapist. The young woman watches in horror as the cat lifts the pipe and body in the air. The body slides down the pipe a few feet before coming to a stop against the bracket that once held the pipe to the brick wall. Small chunks of flesh, ribs and heart fall out of the pipe followed by steam and blood from the former bad ass’s body. Then the creature stabs the pointed end of the pipe into the old red brick wall effectively hanging the body for display. Peanut is moaning in pain, while he recovers consciousness. He tries to stand by leaning against the wall. The beast pulls the knife from its thigh without uttering a sound. It walks in the direction of the dazed thug, but tosses the knife in the direction of the young woman. She immediately scoots toward where it landed in the trash and debris littering the ground. She tries to find it, searching with her hands still securely taped behind her back with her bloodied sliced up coat and shirt getting in the way. The creature jumps up and over a handrail to where Peanut stands with blood streaming out his nose and mouth from internal bleeding. The bleeding was caused by the impact with the monster’s foot breaking ribs that later punctured his internal organs when he struck the bared window. The beast grabs him around his neck and lifts him off the ground. Using one claw inserted in Peanut’s groin the big cat slices upward though his breast bone and clavicle, then drops him where his guts have spilled into a slippery pile on the walkway. The young lady finally feels the cold steely blade under the rubbish and starts desperately fumbling with it in an attempt to cut her hands free. She looks up and can’t see the monster. This doesn’t make her feel any better. Fearful that she is next to fall victim to the demon she whimpers and sobs without realizing she is crying. She is trying to move so quickly that she cuts her finger while trying to saw thru the tape with the knife held awkwardly behind her back out of sight. Looking up as she frees her hands she finds the beast standing over her. Steam rises from its nostrils and fanged mouth due to its breathing heavily. The monster is completely covered in blood soaked and matted fur looking down at her. Quickly she brings her hands around and points the knife at the monster. She is shaking violently and can barely hold the blade steady. The beast makes a “pfft” noise, shaking his head and rolling his eyes, his expressions say “Yeah right like you could hurt me,” and then he hangs her cross necklace on the end of the trembling blade. As she stares mesmerized at the little cross in the fire light the beast points to her bound ankles with what can only be described as a finger. She looks at his hand and finger they are covered in blood, and chunks of flesh. Slowly one claw extends and with careful precision the duct tape around her ankles is sliced. The naked woman is still scared, unsure of what to think and David doesn’t want to frighten her more so he tries not to look at her bare form and partially ignores Sheppard’s voice telling him, “Touch her head and return to the portal as quickly as possible.” She starts whimper and seems to be on the verge of screaming or pissing herself. He opts to leap away scaling the building walls and getting out of view as in haste and leaves the touching part for someone who is not covered in fur, fangs, blood, and guts to do later. The young woman looks up and watches the tail of the beast vanish over the edge of the roof to the loading dock. She grabs the big knife and stands up shaking in the cold.