The Horror Megapack_ 25 Classic and Modern Horror Stories ( PDFDrive )

it got in his hand, he didn’t know. The whole scene was moving too fast for him
to follow, too fast for him to comprehend.
“Now!” the creature cried.
Without thinking, he stabbed up, into the black kid’s belly. The blade slit cloth
and skin and muscle with ease.
The kid stopped laughing. For a horrible second they just stared at each other
in a flash of lightning, both surprised, both too shocked to move. Then the kid
began to scream, like a hurt animal, like nothing Jason had ever heard before.
“Excellent,” the creature whispered.
Jason surged to his feet and ran. A train was just pulling up when he reached
the platform, and he staggered into it. An empty car, thank God.
A whistle blew. The doors hissed shut, and the train lurched forward. After a
minute, Jason realized he still held the knife.
He stared at it in amazement for a few seconds, then quickly stuck in back into
his pocket. Shuddering helplessly, he pressed his eyes shut and tried not to throw
up. The smell of blood, the kid’s blood, hung on his clothes like a cloying
perfume. He gave a sob.
He didn’t remember walking home or going to bed. When he woke the next
morning, he still had his coat on, and the knife, its blade stained a muddy redbrown,
lay in his pocket.
At first he threw it away. But the creature murmured incessantly about what a
prize it was, what a trophy, completely unique in his collection. He covered his
ears and still the voice nagged him, prodded him, whispering, whispering,
whispering.
Finally, screaming for silence, he rose and fished the knife from the trashcan.
Held it in a trembling hand. Admired it, the curve of the blade, the way dried
blood picked out the design in its ivory hilt (how had he missed it before?) in the
shape of a dragon devouring its own tail.
After breakfast, he carved a new notch in its handle. The physical act of
crediting his kill gave him a rush like nothing he had ever felt before, better than
drugs, better than sex. He didn’t need a letter to prove this blade had tasted
blood!
And, deep inside, at the back of his consciousness, the creature urged him on.
The next night, Jason made sure he worked late at the store. Payday. Same as
always, he took most of his salary in hard, cold steel, this time a cavalry saber,
circa 1860. Engraved on its side were the letters CSA. Perhaps it had fought the