Crik by Karl Beer Read Free Book Online Page B

crossing? A few seconds would carry him into Bill’s room. Finally, knowing his friend was alone with the beast, spurred him from the safety of the stairs. His fleeting glance at the woman at the easel assured him that she had no idea of his trespass.
    Enough blue light entered the bedroom for him to avoid the furniture, and Bill’s clothes strewn across the floor. A round mat softened his steps as he moved closer to the bed, where Bill snored, oblivious of the two intruders in his room. Branches scraped the window, playing his nerves like a master harpist. Unable to see the Hatchling, he nevertheless heard the demon banging into a cabinet, before careering into a tall bookcase, filled with the leather-bound books. The noise drew him deeper into the room.
    Resting his free hand on a carved toad on the bedpost, he waited for the Hatchling to betray its location. His friend’s snores frustrated him by masking the demon’s whereabouts. Yang, spread across the lighter wall, pointed with a hurried hand at the windowsill. Jack followed his shadow’s finger and saw the Hatchling perched on the ledge.
    ‘Come here,’ he hissed through gritted teeth. Pulling his hands to his chest, he tried to coax the Hatchling away from the window. If the demon again tried to escape by crashing through the glass, not only would it wake Bill, but the Ghost Walker would also find him.
    The demon tilted its head in amusement; much like a grown man humouring a child’s tantrum, halting Jack’s gesture. If he had some sweets, he would offer them to the demon, though he imagined he would have better success with red meat. Pushing his hands into his pockets, he felt around. All he found was some loose thread pulled into a bundle from the seams of his pants.
    Noticing his hesitation, the Hatchling leapt from the windowsill to land on the pillow beside Bill.
    Aghast, Jack could only stretch his arm out in silent reproach. The sword, proving more useless by the second, hung forgotten at his side as the demon stroked black talons through Bill’s hair.
    Opening his mouth, Bill snored loudly. Inexplicably the demon threw its head into the open cavity, bringing a surprised grunt from Bill, and a silent scream from Jack. Remarkably, Bill’s eyes remained closed. Diving forward, Jack grabbed the Hatchling’s tail, its slippery feel bringing to mind one of Mr Gasthem’s blind Milk Worms. Wrestling with the beast, he planted his feet on the mattress ready to yank back with all his strength. Instead of coming out, the demon sank deeper into Bill’s mouth. In moments, it had an arm and a shoulder nestled between incisor and molar. Yang, watching from the wall, refused to help. Sending a silent plea filled glance for his shadow to assist him accomplished nothing. Scared of alerting Grandma Poulis, he remained silent, but cast reproachful looks at his immobile twin. How could Bill sleep through this? Fretting over the question, he tugged on the tail once more, shifting the mattress beneath his feet. The creature’s chest now flowed into Bill, the ribs snapping and cracking as it fought its way through the wide open lips. With mounting desperation, Jack coiled the tail about his wrist; gaining better anchorage, he arched back in greater effort to get the beast off his friend. It stopped at the midsection, unable to creep any farther down Bill’s throat. Elated at his small success, Jack doubled his efforts, grinning with triumph as a snapped rib slipped back into view. Locking his jaw, he prepared to keep pulling until the rest of the Hatchling emerged; then the tail disappeared from his grasp.
    He wanted to yell in frustration. The Hatchling had changed its shape.
    He tried to grab the flailing feet that beat against his friend’s chin, only when he got a hold, they turned into flippers and vanished into the darkness.
    Dismayed, he fell back in a huddle, panting from his exertion. Lying in a heap, he heard a croaking laugh, buried deep in his friend’s