War of Prey

14)The Lion and the Lamb

"Underneath her pretty face lies the smile of a masochist, a sociopath, a lion searching for prey."

***

"Dammit! Where are you, you bloodthirsty little worm?"

A hiss comes in response to Lane's outburst and sends him jumping on the bed with an admittedly less-than-manly shriek. Of course, Sàvia had to leave and decided to leave the damn snake with him, the one who almost killed him. The same one who looks as if she will kill him again, make sure he stays dead this time.

Picking up his phone, he tries to call her. Her number which he got from sneaking through her bag, which she'd kill him for if she found out. "Sàvia? Where the hell did you go, and why the hell would you leave this bloody evil snake here with me? Do you not remember her almost killing me? When are you coming—"

"Este es Sàvia, estoy ocupada. Llamar más tarde! I am kidding, do not call back, I do not care," Sàvia's voicemail answers. Of course, she'd say that, Lane thinks with a smile.

A small beeping sound comes from her bag in the bathroom, sinfully taunting Lane. The options of ignoring it or checking it weigh in his head, but immediately he knew what he'd choose, despite the danger that ensues.

He snatches the black bag off the floor and searches around with closed eyes until he grasps a box that is vibrating. He pulls it out and opens his eyes. It's a black box with a snap; it reveals three red buttons and a fingerprint scanner on the bottom. Curiosity tells him to press the buttons, but his mind knows he shouldn't for fear of setting something on fire. He sets his finger on the scanner and curses under his breath when a sharp pain fills his finger. He removes it, and a warm liquid drips down his hand and onto the scanner; it glows red before dying out, the smell of burning blood filling the room. The stench is unlike anything Lane has ever witnessed, an acrid odor that feels like it has seeped into the walls and floors. Lane brings his shirt to his face, making a mask to try and block the smell, but a new thing catches Lane's attention. A scrap of lace lays by the bathtub, red no—white, but dyed with a thick red substance Lane knows all too well. Blood.

The box in his hand beeps, as he sees the left button, has been deployed, the scanner glowing blue. He sets the box down quickly, heart racing at the loud vibrations coming from it, and picks up the lace with a towel. Bile threatens to break through his lips as the blood drips onto the floor; his eye catches another scrap of lace in the corner of the bathtub, caught between the tiles. A crack runs down the tile wall, jumping at Lane as if to say there is something he needs to see. Swallowing down the fear that he feels, he walks over and places his hand on the crack, his instincts telling him to push. As a result, the apparent crack turns out to be a door that opens to a crawl space.

"To hell with it," he mutters before climbing through, immediately regretting his decision as something slimy brushes his leg, a hiss slipping from its lips. "Dammit! Why do you hate me? Please, God, get this demon snake away from me. I hate snakes!"

With another hiss, the snake leaves, a metal clang following. Lane reaches back and sees the black box next to him. Did the snake—? Sure enough, it is the same box that stabbed him, the same one that is still vibrating alarmingly. "You can do this, Lane. It is unreasonable for a grown man to be scared of the dark. And snakes. And tiny spaces. But isn't it reasonable to be afraid of all three at the time? Yes. I will not panic; it will not help. I will also continue this motivational speech even though it is not helping a damn thing. Breathe, Lane, breathe."

Prevailing through his fears, Lane keeps crawling until he bumps his head against something hard, a string of curses falling from his lips. Lane thought the smell of the blood was horrible, but it is worse in this crawl space. Oh, how wrong he was. Another door opens, and the smell hits him dead in the face, like a hand slapping him, sure to leave a mark. The mark most likely going to be nose blind. A light flicks on suddenly, scaring Lane.