Your Turn to Suffer Tim Waggoner (online e book reading .TXT) 📖

the wicked-looking knife in its right hand down at its side, almost as if trying to conceal it, or at least not draw attention to it.

Edgar drew his bone gun and held it down at his own side, ready to use it if necessary.

“I am gratified.” The creature pointed to Aashrita’s cross with its free hand. “Look.”

Both Lori and Edgar turned toward the empty T-cross and saw a thin tendril emerging from the soil at the base of the structure. At first Lori thought it was a plant of some kind, but then she realized that the tendril wasn’t made of vegetable matter. It was made of meat. She watched as it slowly snaked up the cross, thickening and broadening as it went.

“It shall take some time,” Haruspex said. “But eventually this cross will have a new occupant. I’ll be interested to see who it is. It’s always a surprise, but I like that. It keeps my job interesting.”

“Is it…going to grow another Aashrita?” Lori asked.

Lori found the thought appalling, but in a strange way comforting as well. If Aashrita could be regrown, it meant she wasn’t really dead, didn’t it?

“No,” the Haruspex said. “Each of my lovely flowers is unique. Once gone, they can never return. Only a new bloom can take their place.”

Lori found the Haruspex’s flower analogy to be exceptionally creepy, given that its ‘garden’ consisted of disemboweled naked people lashed to crosses by coils of barbed wire.

“Thank you for your help,” she said. “But I think it’s time for us to go now.”

She looked to Edgar for confirmation, and he nodded.

The Haruspex stepped closer to them.

“Before you depart, we need to discuss the matter of your fee.”

The Haruspex had said that in return for the knowledge she would gain, she must help out in the Garden. At the time, it hadn’t seemed like too steep a price, but now….

“My Garden is thirsty,” the Haruspex said. “It needs to drink in order to remain strong and healthy, for new life to grow.”

The Haruspex raised its knife.

“The Garden thanks you for your contribution.”

In a flash of insight, Lori understood that the Haruspex intended to water his Garden with her blood. Edgar’s too, most likely. She didn’t react – didn’t scream, didn’t try to run. She was too stunned by the visions Aashrita had shown her to think straight. She’d pushed her best friend to commit suicide, and she felt having her throat cut and bleeding to death was only fair.

The Haruspex stepped toward her, but before the creature could strike, Edgar shoved Lori aside, putting himself between her and it. He opened his mouth wide and black beetles poured forth to engulf the Haruspex. The creature staggered backward, arms flailing. Lori waited to hear the Haruspex’s shrieks as the beetles began devouring it, but the creature gave no scream, made no sound whatsoever. The insects tore at the fabric that comprised its body with their mandibles, tearing threads apart, but as swiftly as the damage was done, the Haruspex’s body repaired itself, the threads rejoining and pulling tight once more. Eventually the insects gave up and began detaching themselves from the Haruspex and flying back to their host, entering his mouth once more and disappearing to wherever it was inside his body that they dwelled. The Haruspex had no mouth to smile with, but Lori heard deep satisfaction in its voice when it spoke.

“Your pets can do nothing to me. I am not made of flesh and bone.”

The Haruspex raised its knife and stepped toward Lori once more. This time, Edgar raised the bone gun, aimed at the Haruspex’s cloth face, and fired. As close as Lori was to the man, the sound was deafening, and she flinched.

The bullet struck the Haruspex at the point between where its eyes would’ve been if it had possessed facial features. The round penetrated all the way through the Haruspex’s head, exiting the back in a spray of old dried leaves and feathers. The creature didn’t react right away, and Lori feared the damage it had sustained would not in any way slow the thing down. But the Haruspex’s grip on the knife slackened, and the blade fell to the ground. An instant later, the Haruspex joined it there, collapsing into a boneless, unmoving pile of cloth and stuffing.

A wail went up from the cross-bound – hundreds, maybe thousands of disemboweled men, women, and children – voices joining in a chorus of sorrow, as if they were in mourning for their lost master, and why not? What’s a garden without a gardener? The sound was deafening, and the power of the cross-bound’s unified grief was overwhelming. Lori wasn’t sorry that the Haruspex was dead, but she found herself crying anyway in response to the ocean of sadness that surged around them.

Edgar kept his weapon trained on the Haruspex and they waited to see if this injury would repair itself, like those the beetles had inflicted upon the creature. But it seemed that the Haruspex was not immune to the bone gun’s special ammunition. It looked like the creature was, if not exactly dead, then no longer functional, and they started for Edgar’s van.

“Goddamn Nightway,” Edgar said.

Lori silently agreed.

Chapter Twelve

Once they were back on the road, Lori said, “That gun you used. Is it really made of bone?”

“Yep. It’s called a Gravedigger Special. Picked it up during my travels when I was searching for a weapon to use against the Cabal. It fires the teeth of people who’ve died horrible, agonizing deaths. Their suffering is distilled into the teeth, and it’s released when they hit their target. Few things can withstand a concentrated dose of another being’s pain.”

“Why didn’t you use the gun on the Haruspex right away? Why sic your bugs on him first?”

“I only have so much ammo, and it’s not easy to come by. You have to extract the teeth yourself – as the person is dying. I had eight rounds when we got to the Garden. Now I have