Maleficarum: Hunger of the Witch by Jeremy Bennett Read Free Book Online

everything except the middle of the store. She stopped moving, and as soon as she did, the flood of footsteps followed her, resting once more above her.
    “Run , bitch!” Mike shouted as he dropped the table he was toting. As soon as his words registered, she took off in a blind panic. The footsteps followed thunderously overhead. They were always in lockstep with the woman, chasing her like a swarm of bees. Mike whipped out his gun and pointed it at the bulk of the footsteps. He pulled the trigger, wildly missing his target. The slide slammed back, locking. He was empty. He hadn't reloaded his gun when he came into the store. He was a good marksman, but he didn't know the gun and had never shot under this kind of pressure.
    “Fuck , man,” he shouted, slinging spit out of his mouth. He pulled the clip from the gun and reached into his pocket, snatching out a box of shells as the young woman still ran screaming. Her screams were so violent there was no way her vocal cords wouldn't tear if she kept it up for long. Mike accidentally dropped his magazine. The blood rushed to his brain, causing his fingers to lose their precision. Frantically, he snatched the magazine off the floor and tried desperately to jam a bullet in. No part of his body seemed to work. The flow of time slowed around him as he feverishly tried to push the bullet in.
    “Ohhh , God,” Beverly screamed.
    The bullet finally snapped into the magazine, and Mike raised the gun as the blonde ran past him and into the maze of bookshelves. The footsteps rushed over Mike’s head as he fired. The bullet ripped into the roof with a loud crack, and from outside came a hellish scream of pain that sounded like the roar of a bear. Like a faucet, black and red blood sloshed through the hole and onto the floor. The footsteps stopped in place at the sound of the scream, and Mike loaded another shell into the magazine. Thrusting the gun back up, he fired another shot. Again a horrendous scream arose, followed by the sound of a heavy body flopping on the roof. Blood streamed through, turning the gray carpet a sickening shade of purple.
    Nick shouted as he rushed over to Mike. “Stop.”
    Mike was still trying to jam another shell into the chamber. “Why?”
    “You said they were devil -worshipping witches, right?”
    “Yeh, e ither that or aliens,” Mike said as he pointed the gun back up to the roof, ready to take his next shot.
    “How many did you say are out there?”
    “Fuck, I don’t know, man, a lot.” Mike looked confused.
    “If there’s that many of them out there , they could tear down this place in no time. So why haven’t they?”
    “Well, i t sounds like they’re about to,” Mike said, stepping back from the ever-growing pool of blood in the center of the floor.
    “I don ’t think they can come in. Not if they’re witches. This place has wrought iron bars on its doors. In European folklore, a witch can’t enter a house that is guarded by cold iron. I think they’re trying to do something different.” The thunderous footsteps fled to the back of the building, and soon they were leaping off the roof. Mike ran to a window and nervously peered out into the darkness, looking for any sign of their attackers.
    “I think they’re trying to defile the place, and their corrupt blood is one way they’re trying to do it. This place has all manner of purifying objects and elements in it. Salt, garlic, Saint John’s Wort, silver, iron, and witch balls are everywhere. They should have a hard time casting spells on us without corrupting us and this place first,” Nick said.
    “Are you telling me not to fight back?”
    “Hell, no, just be smart about it,” Nick said as he ran among the winding bookshelves looking for something. Mike rushed back to the center of the room and picked up bullets that he had dropped. The blood still dripped from the ceiling, making a sickening splash as it hit the carpet.
    “We still need to barricade this place,”