"Terence West - Phantoms" - читать интересную книгу автора (West Terence)

balance and he tumbled to the floor. Looking up, he saw he was lying at the feet of the being.

Turning his head to the right, he peered into Charlie's room. To his horror, a second pair of red eyes
appeared. "Shit," he muttered under his breath. Pushing himself off the floor, he tried to run for his room,
but was cut off by the first shadow. The creature lifted what looked like an arm and pointed it toward
him. Four thin tendrils of darkness shot from the hand like coiled snakes and wrapped themselves around
Dylan's neck. Reaching up, Dylan tried to tear them off, but they were like steel. Gasping for air, he
watched as the second pair of red eyes emerged from Charlie's room and moved toward him. This one
was also in the form of a human. He didn't appear three dimensional in nature, rather flat. Its billowing
darkness reached out and began to wrap around Dylan. It felt cold and evil. The darkness began to
engulf him as it slowly moved up his body.

The second shadow echoed the first's sentiment. "You will not escape."

Dylan felt his eyelids becoming heavy. The oxygen was being cut off to his brain; he was dying of
asphyxia. A horrid smile crossed the faces of the two shadows as Dylan took his final breath. Retracting
the darkness, the two of them ripped Dylan in half. Red blood splattered against the wall in a horrible
pattern as his torso fell next to his legs. Reaching down, one of the shadows slid its fingers forcefully into
Dylan's chest. It wrapped the darkness around his still beating heart and ripped it from the man's chest.
The creature held it above its head to examine. Once satisfied they had what they came for, the two
creatures slowly moved toward Dylan's bedroom and entered.

Charlie looked out from beneath the covers at the two pairs of burning red eyes in the darkness of the
room. Reaching over, he shook his mom's shoulder in an attempt to wake her up. "Mom," Charlie said
frantically.

"What is it now, Charlie?" Cynthia asked, still half asleep.

Charlie swallowed hard as he stared at the eyes. "The Shadow People are here," he whispered.

****

The large office was lavishly decorated. The walls were painted a creamy shade of white that emanated
warmth. Pictures dominated a majority of the space, as well as several tall filing cabinets and book
shelves. Trophies collected from all over the world sat quietly observing the day-to-day routine. A large
brown wooden desk sat to one side with two dark, plush seats in front of it, while a large, round
conference table occupied a substantial section of the floor. A huge window behind the desk was letting
the soft rays of morning light spill into the room. Two men sat inside, one in an expensive leather chair
behind the desk, the other in one of the chairs facing it. Both men were swathed in the usual business
attire of suits and ties.

The one behind the desk swiveled his chair around to face the other man in his office. Lifting a small tan
folder off his desk, he leaned back in his chair and flipped it open. Adjusting his wire-framed glasses, he
began to peruse the pages inside.

"Mr. Bishop," the man began in a light tone, "I assume you know why you've been called in here."

Nick Bishop adjusted his dark gray tie and sat forward in his seat. Folding his hands together, he
propped his elbows up on his knees. He was a young man with short, messy dark hair and piercing blue
eyes. He was clean-shaven with the exception of a small patch of hair on his chin below his lips. His