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They pulled it open. The smell of mold and old coal rushed up. Riley went first, dropping into darkness. Jamie followed. Above, the door exploded inward.
Riley kicked, clawed, bit. Nothing. Its grip was iron. She felt her vision narrowing to a tunnel. In that fading light, she saw the creature’s back—the patches on its wings. One was a piece of a high school letterman jacket. Another was a scrap of a police uniform. The third was a square of orange cloth. Prison issue. Jeepers Creepers
And then she saw it. A loose board in the wall behind the creature. Beyond it, a glint of metal. An old fuel oil tank. They pulled it open
The creature dropped from the steeple, landing without a sound. It tilted its head, mimicking a curious bird. Then it spoke, not in a whisper, but in the dead mailman’s voice. Jamie followed
Jamie screamed. Riley clamped a hand over his mouth, dragging him backward. “Run,” she whispered. “Now.”