Hounds of Hell

Francine sat in the back of the van, waiting for Carl to come out with the woman and the child.

What was taking so long?

She knew it would take time to convince the woman he was on her side, but this was taking way too long. The diner had closed an hour ago, early, and she suspected that was Carl’s doing, especially after she’d seen the cook leave. Still, it shouldn’t be taking this long.

Something had gone wrong.

Francine glanced through the tinted windshield and winced. The sun hadn’t completely set. It wasn’t safe for her to leave yet. She wished she’d asked Deb to come along, but the thought of Deb possibly changing in front of an already terrified mother and a traumatized kid had convinced her to leave her friend behind.

“What was I thinking?” she muttered. “They’re already dealing with an evil spirit. A werewolf in pink would be a novelty.”

From inside the diner came a scream. Then a loud crash.

Sun be damned. It was almost gone. She would have to take her chances.

Throwing a blanket over her head, Francine yanked open the sliding door. Before she could step out, the diner’s back door burst open and Carl came running. He carried the child and pulled the woman behind him. They scrambled into the van.

The entity wasn’t far behind.

Through the doorway, Francine saw red eyes.

The creature wasn’t just a ghost. It was more solid than that, but not quite flesh. It moved fast, too fast, then stopped when it saw her.

Francine bared her fangs and snarled, daring it to try her.

The van lurched forward. The sudden motion knocked her backward as the sliding door slammed shut. Carl was already in the driver’s seat, flooring it like the hounds of hell were after them.

Francine had a feeling that wasn’t far from the truth.

“What the hell was that?” Carl croaked. “I’ve seen spirits my entire life. I’ve never seen one like that. Not even our own father was that… that…”

His voice trailed off, unable to find the right word.

“Ungodly,” Francine finished for him.