Another excerpt from “Powderfinger,” this time from Chapter Seven.
The voice grew louder as her leg muscles started to scream, “Eleanor, don’t go quietly,” it shrieked, “stop and fight Eleanor!”
Eleanor Ross, never even had a chance to scream. The chilling hand, effortlessly forced her head back while something slid easily through the soft flesh of her throat, slicing it from ear to ear. Then, released from the entity’s grip, Eleanor fell helplessly forward, desperately trying to breathe. Try as she might, she could not regain her feet and she could feel the strength draining out of her body. Instinctively, she raised her one free hand to her torn neck, in a hopeless attempt to close the wound. Then, with one last futile effort, Eleanor managed to raise herself slightly and began to crawl on all fours. Her desperate attempt to stay alive was swiftly dispatched, when four white blades penetrated through her stricken body. Her sagging head allowed her to observe the blades, as they pierced her chest, before withdrawing again, through her back, only to run stabbing through her body again and again as her one eye gradually blacked out and her life was extinguished in a frenzy of penetrations.