Victim Souls - Excerpt ¦ TOUR STOP!

Title: Victim Souls

Author: Andrew Terech
Published: November 8th, 2014
Genres: Horror, Young Adult

A brief synopsis; (Via Goodreads)

Sometimes, only bad guys can beat the Devil… 

The plan is simple: get the money and deliver the car. What could possibly go wrong?
What can’t? 

Things start to go south when Sam Drake realizes that his brother Johnny is hiding something, a secret about Sam’s troubled childhood that goes beyond his most feverish nightmares… 

Then Johnny’s girlfriend, Ash, starts sending Sam the kind of mixed signals that can only lead to big trouble… 

As the trio of small time crooks falls deeper into an abyss of betrayal and violence, they will discover that the greatest danger they face is not of this world. 

With everything he believes about himself and the world around him shattered, Sam will become the unlikely champion in a battle with true evil, a fight to save a soul that has already been forfeited to darkness. 

His own.

Andrew’s a horror fiction writer who is also a massive fan of the genre. He’s been writing short stories and working on his novel for over 5 years. He has several short stories published, as well as some editing credits. He moderates a writing workshop in Phoenix, AZ where he’s been exposed to many different forms of fiction, which have broadened his influences. He aims to write stories that creep out his readers, while offering well-developed, rich characters they can sink their teeth into. He’s also a fan of experimenting with form and structure to create something uniquely my own.

Andrew grew up on Long Island in New York, and has lived in Arizona for the past 7 years. His professional background is in psychology where he’s carved out a nice career for himself. However, writing has always been his passion.

Currently, he’s hard at work, developing additional content to publish. He hopes to find an audience that loves the genre, and is up for a good scare.

You can find Andrew at his website, Facebook or Twitter.

The crunch of gravel grew louder as the hitchhiker approached. The back driver’s side door opened. Dry heat rushed into the cool car, carrying a rancid stench.

A large brown bag plopped into the seat next to me.

I slid away from the disgusting sack. The horrific odor multiplied as the bearded freak stepped into the backseat and closed the door. The car smelled like a month of caked on body odor. If I’d had anything left in my stomach, I’d have yacked for sure.

            The guy’s brownish-yellow teeth peaked out through the mangy beard in what appeared to be a smile. “Thank you, my friends.” It looked like he’d been eating mud.

            “Where to buddy?” Johnny asked like a taxi driver.

            The bum let out a wheezy laugh that exploded into a coughing fit. He opened the door and spewed out a stream of brown liquid—something solid and chunky splashed on the ground. He reached into his mouth and pulled out a jagged object that resembled a bone. After studying it a moment, he flicked it away and closed the door.

Ash gagged. “Really?”

I began to regret this decision. “You sick or something, dude?” I asked.

“Me?” the bum said as he wiped his mouth with his filthy sleeve. “Me, sick?” He expelled another wheezing laugh. “No, I don’t sick. Sorry, not me.”

Ash turned around in her seat and glared at me. She glanced down at the knife, using her eyes to tell me to stab our new passenger. I shook my head in disagreement. The guy was out of his mind, but she wasn’t going to get off the hook that easily. Ash hated not getting her way. With gritted teeth she turned away and forcefully dropped back into her chair, shaking the entire car.

Johnny stayed cool. He put the car into drive and sped back onto the highway. All the while, I kept my eyes on our friend and my hand near the handle of the knife.

After several minutes of silence, the bum started mumbling something incoherent under his breath. It sounded as if he was reciting a prayer, but I couldn’t make out the words. I could sense the tension building in the car as his muttering grew in intensity and volume; none of his gibberish sounded even close to English.

 “So, what’s your name, cowboy?” Johnny called out.

The hitchhiker stopped mid-chant and looked up. “My name’s not cowboy.” He dropped his head and restarted his incoherent mumbling.

“Then, what is your name?” Johnny asked.

This time he fit his answer in between gibberish. “I am Ezekiel. A great warrior.”

Johnny looked at me in the rearview. “Ezekiel, do you know who we are?”

His head shot up with eyes bulging. “I know you!” he yelled. After a moment of silence, Ezekiel dropped his head and returned to his prayer.

I reached for the knife. Johnny put his hand up for me to hold back. I did as he asked, but I kept my eyes on Ezekiel. My heart pulsed in chorus with the tires as the old highway thumped beneath the speeding car.

Ash grabbed the cigarettes from the dash, turned around and held the pack out to Ezekiel. “Easy, boy. Want one? Calm you down?”

“Ezekiel. My name is Ezekiel. I am not a dog!” he shouted.

Ash put her hands up. “Okay… Ezekiel, would you like a cigarette?”

He ignored her, looked out the window, and went back to his mumbling. Ash reached across Johnny’s lap, likely going for the Colt he’d stashed between his seat and the door.

Johnny grabbed her wrist and lifted her arm up, squeezing as she tried to wrestle herself free. After Johnny finally released, she snapped back in her seat. I found the whole thing amusing, and would’ve laughed if I didn’t have Ezekiel breathing down my neck.

Ezekiel’s head whipped around. Wide, bloodshot eyes stared at me. His mouth, a brown and yellow mess, ran through the incessant chant behind the moist and filthy hair. I touched my fingertips to the knife’s handle.

Ezekiel quieted. He looked at my hand. “I have one, too. Mine’s bigger. Wanna see?”

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