Blood
of the Sixth
By K.
R. Rowe
Genre:
Horror
In the quaint Southern town of Port Bella Rosa, something
sinister lurks beneath the cobblestones.
When hunger stirs a centuries-old evil, a demon awakens, releasing its
hunters in search of prey. Jackals swarm from the mist, seeking out their
quarry and sating their master with
offerings of human flesh.
Allie Kent catches a glimpse of the first victim: a corpse
with its organs, muscle and bone all
consumed, leaving nothing more than skin behind. While police work to solve the
unexplained murder, more bodies are found mutilated. Finally convinced the
killer isn’t human, Detective Phillip Chambers is desperate to shield Allie
from harm.
But something haunts Allie: shadows spill through her window
at night; nightmares invade her sleep while visions confuse her waking
thoughts. Struggling to keep her independence in check, she finds herself
treading a thin line between reality and insanity, with Phillip her only
protection. But is the evil dwelling beneath the stones their only true
threat—or will the demons in Allie’s head have the strength to destroy them
both?
Author
Bio
K. R. Rowe is a multi-genred
author who spent her childhood in the scenic city of Chattanooga, TN and still
resides there today. Her father was born and raised near Tellico Plains, in the
heart of Tennessee's tract of the
Appalachian Mountains. With her mother's South Carolina heritage, her southern
roots run deep. From a very young age, her overpowering love of the mountains
continues to draw her to them. When not tied to her desk, her free time with
her family is often spent enjoying any activity that can take her far from the
hustle and bustle of everyday life and into the peace of the mountains.
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/KRRowe
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/K-R-Rowe-Author-333526920072279/
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6571714.K_R_Rowe
Website: http://krrowe.com/
Blog: https://krrowe.wordpress.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/K-R-Rowe-Author-333526920072279/
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6571714.K_R_Rowe
Website: http://krrowe.com/
Blog: https://krrowe.wordpress.com/
Chapter
1
Rats
Year
1925—Port Bella Rosa, Louisiana. A wavering glow crawled between his
eyelids, forcing them open. Above him, a soot blackened lantern swung in slow
circles. Weak veins of light pulsed across the ceiling, doing little to scatter
the room’s encroaching darkness. The shadows terrified him; those menacing
black specters lurking just beyond the light. A blurred but familiar face swam
in Noah’s peripheral vision. The old lady came into focus, but hatred contorted
her features into someone he barely recognized. He yanked at the ropes securing
him to the table but only managed to dig the twisted knots deeper into his
bloodied wrists.
“I warned you,” she hissed.
Memories began to surface in his groggy, scattered thoughts.
“Mrs. Hoffius, please, I never meant any harm.”
Turning her back, the old woman ignored him. She stoked the
fire in the wood stove and flipped a slab of meat sizzling in a hot cast iron
skillet. Noah slid his tongue over a split in his lip, gagging on the sharp
bloody taste oozing from the bloated gash.
“I love her, she loves me. I can take care of her.” He
lifted his head from the table, trying to reason with her, but a scorching pain ripped through his skull and tore down his neck,
settling in his abdomen. “Oh God.”
The old woman sneered. “There is no God.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“You ignored my warning, boy. You’re not fit for my
Isabella.”
Smouldering meat thickened the air, its scent almost too
dense to breathe, but Noah sucked in deep gulps and stared at the flesh carved
away from his chest. His stomach churned, but he wasn’t sure if it was the
sight of his mutilated torso or the large section of his intestines protruding
from a jagged hole in his abdomen; their bloody mass piled on his pelvis,
spilling in thick glistening ropes over the table’s edge. His body spasmed, vomit
and blood spewing in a burning stream from his mouth. Acrid smoke curled into
his nose but he choked from the stench of his own suffocating terror.
“Christ! You’re eating me!” Unconsciousness threatened to
take him. Cold sweat beaded on his pale bloodless skin. Struggling to stay
alert, each lung-filling breath twisted his body with waves of pain.
The old woman laughed.
“No, boy. This is my dinner.” She crammed a slimy pork skin
between her gums and nodded over her shoulder. He followed her gaze to a line
of rat-filled cages pushed against the far wall. “You belong to them.”
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