“Dear G-god in H-h-heaven, look after us in t-this our d-darkest hour,” Pam’s voice comes out muffled and meek, half swallowed by Gina’s shoulder. “Deliver u-hus from evil and grant us y-your p-p-protecti-“
With a sudden sucking sound – chluuuuuuurp! – Pam vanishes from Gina’s arms.
Gina stumbles backwards, terror flashing across her face. Her mouth gapes open and closed like a landed fish, but she makes no sound.
“No, wait!” I say when I see her reaching for the little gold crucifix dangling from her neck, but it’s too late. A moment later, Gina is gone, too, and I’m all alone in our office.
Out in the street, the screams are growing louder, more frantic.
Like lambs to the slaughter.