Decided to post the rest in a single chapter.

Lincoln sat on the porch with his back against the wall and his knees drawn to his chest. The sun was just above the mountains and its light was the color of blood. A scalding breeze blew like sandpaper against his face and grit stuck in his eyes. He hung his head, blinked as much of the sand out as he could, and hugged his knees. This was bad. Real bad. Lisa said those bones had been down there at least fifty years. He didn't doubt her analysis, but he was certain that some way, somehow, the demon was responsible.

And after nightfall, he would come for them.

Across the yard, Lana and Lola chased each other in circles between the house and the stables. "I'm the desert monster," Lana said in a deep voice and held her arms up, hands hooked. "I eat fairy princesses."

"No!" Lola squealed. "Leave me alone!"

Lana reversed course and came at her from the front. Lola ducked around her and ran toward the stable, her arms pumping and her feet flying over the ground. She was going so fast that the hem of her dress fluttered behind her. Her crown started to slip and she righted it, looking over her shoulder. Lana was hot on her heels; she reached for Lola's dress to pull her back, and Lola ran faster.

In the stable, Lola made for the other side, which was open to the elements. She was almost there when she saw something lying on the ground. At first, she thought it was an old pile of rags, but she realized it wasn't.

She came to a crashing halt. Lana crashed into her and they stumbled. "I got you!" Lana yelled. "I -"

The words died on her lips when she saw.

Luna, her stomach laid open and her face splattered with blood, lay on the ground, her head tilted to face them. Her features were twisted in a silent scream and her eyes strained from their sockets. Lana and Lola both gaped, their eyes seeing but their shocked brains failing to comprehend.

A floorboard creaked behind them, and they spun in unison. A monster with a black, reptile-like face and wearing a coat and fedora stood over them, its bloody fangs bared and its yellow eyes burning with alien hatred. Lana started to scream but her voice cut off when the monster snatched the front of her overalls and dragged her off her feet. Lola fell back a step, chest pounding. The monster grabbed Lana around the ankles and spun her around. Her head crashed into Lola's and their skulls shattered with the force of the blow. Lana let out a high, agonized screech and Lola fell to the floor, blood oozing from her cranium. The monster whipped Lana back, over his shoulders, then brought her down in a deadly arc. Her head hit Lola's again, and Lola felt bits of hers and Lana's bones tearing into her brain like shrapnel. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she mercifully lost consciousness.

The monster whipped Lana back and forth, using her to batter Lola. The top and side of Lana's head had caved in, her neck swiveled brokenly, and the bones in her face had jammed into her brain. Panting with fury, the monster spun Lana around and wrapped her around a support beam. It turned around, and a girl with braces and a ponytail gaped at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw. When Lana came untangled from the support and landed on the floor with a thud, the girl with the braces snapped out of it and ran off. The monster gave chase, reaching into its coat. It pulled out a ninja star made of bones and flicked its wrist. The star hit the girl in the back of the head and she dropped to the ground.

Ducking low, the monster rushed out, grabbed her by her ankles, and pulled her into the cover of the stables. The smell of her fertile womb filled its nose, and he breathed deeply. It flopped her onto her back and she lay there, arms out on either side of her. The monster dropped to its knees, reached up her skirt, and pulled down her underwear. It threw them over its shoulder, forced her thighs apart, and explored her lips. The girl turned her head groggily from side to side and muttered, beginning to wake.

The monster made a fist and jammed it inside of her. The walls ripped and gushed blood, her pelvis broke, and the passage to her womb widened around its forearm. Her eyes flew open and she let out a skull-cracking scream. The monster felt around, found her delicious ovaries, and wrenched them out. The girl's back arched and she began to go completely pale. The monster shoved the tasty snack into its mouth and chewed it between its teeth, blood coating its chin and dripping onto the front of its coat. Rich red blood filled with pink chunks of debris gushed from the girl's decimated vagina and soaked into the ground. Her nails tore at the floorboards and she tried to scream but could only wheeze.

Done with her ovaries, the monster buried its face between her legs and tore at her vulva with its teeth. It found her clit and bit down on it, severing it and swallowing. The monster's long tongue snaked into her and lapped at her blood and offal. The girl went limp and the monster's frenzy kicked into overdrive. It grabbed her ankles and pulled her apart like a wishbone; she tore up the middle all the way to the neck, exposing her heart, internal organs, and ribcage. The monster brought its fist down on the latter and it shattered like a pane of glass.

It was almost time.

The monster couldn't wait any longer.

Getting to its feet, the monster kicked the cold remains of Luan Loud aside, stepped on Lola's skull, flattening it, and went off to claim its prize.

The boy.

"This isn't a good idea," Lincoln said anxiously.

Lynn rolled her eyes. "Have I ever had a bad idea?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

They were standing before the big double doors leading into the barn. Across the yard and partially hidden by the house, the stable huddled against the coming twilight. Lana and Lola had run in there a few minutes ago and Lincoln sent Luan to get them out. Lynn said he was a spoil sport, but all you had to do was glance at the place to know that it was a death trap.

Lincooln was sitting on the porch and metaphorically biting his nails in dread anticipation of the advent of night when Lynn dragged him out here to "look around." She said she was bored. Lincoln tried to reason with her but she was as stubborn as a block of concrete, so that was a lost cause.

A wooden barricade fitted into metal holders blocked the door. Lynn lifted it and sat it aside. She pushed the doors open and poked her head in, then opened the doors even more. "Come on, Linc," she said and disappeared inside.

For a moment, Lincoln considered walking away, but he couldn't just leave her alone. What if something happened?

That was the only reason he went after her.

As he expected, the floor was covered with a thin layer of straw and the air was hot and smelled of musk and mold. Shafts of sunlight fell through a thousand holes, crtacks, and gaps, and dust and cobwebs covered everything.

The first thing Lincoln noticed was the massive thing in the middle of the floor. A tattered tarp draped it so he couldn't see what it was, but he assumed it was an old piece of farming equipment, maybe a tractor or a thresher. Shelves and work benches lined the walls, all laden with ancient boxes, cans, tools, and auto parts. Metal signs stared down at them and birds flew crazily around above their heads, wings rustling. Lynn went to one of the workbenches and picked up a can. She flipped it over and read the bottom, lips moving silently. "Whoa, check it out," she said. "This stuff expired in 1979."

"What is it?" Lincoln asked, walking over.

"I dunno," she said. She tossed it over her shoulder and opened a drawer. Her jaw dropped and she reached in, taking out a Colt revolver. "Whoa," she breathed.

Lincoln studied it closely. The long barrel and the smooth cylinder were heavily rusted. The smooth oak handle was dusty but undamaged. The trigger guard was trimmed in gold. He had seen pistols just like this one in old Civil War photos. It was a cap and ball single action six shot, meaning that while the cyldender held six rounds, you had to manually cock the hammer between shots.

"How old is it?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," Lincoln said. "It looks like it's Civil War era, but it's probably a reproduction." He took the gun from her and held it in his hand. It was warm and heavy, fitting perfectly in his palm even though it was made to be held by a man, not an eleven year old boy. He tried to pull the trigger, but the gun was so rusted that it wouldn't budge. "It'll make a nice paperweight," he said.

Lynn scrunched her lips in thought. "You can have it," she said.

He sat it on the bench. "Mom and Dad would kill me if they found me with a gun."

"Unjam the trigger and you can kill them first."

"Ha, ha."

They moved onto a shelf packed with odds and ends. Lynn pickled up a dented and rusty coffee can, peered inside, and wrinkled her nose. "What the fuck?"

"What is it?" Lincoln asked.

She held it out to him and he looked inside.

He wished he hadn't.

It was full of teeth. Big teeth, little teeth, white teeth, black teeth. Lincoln's stomach turned and for a moment he was sure that he was going to throw up. "It's the demon's," he said.

"The what now?" Lynn asked.

"The guy who drove us off the road. This is his house."

Lynn rolled her eyes. "Not that again."

"I'm telling you," Lincoln said. "Who else would keep a coffee can full of teeth?"

Lynn didn't reply. "I dunno," she said and put the can back, "but I've seen enough. Let's go."

She brushed past him and started out, but stopped and turned to the whatever-it-was beneath the tarp. "Actually, I wanna check this thing out real quick. Help me uncover it, will you?"

Reluctantly, Lincoln grabbed the tarp and helped Lynn pull it off. It dropped to the floor in a puff of dust, and when Lincoln saw what was under it, his heart sank.

Lynn blinked in surprise. "Is that…?"

"It's his," Lincoln said numbly.

No matter how long he lived, Lincoln would never forget the truck that had followed them across half the country. He hadn't gotten a close look at it until now, but every detail was burned into his memory. He walked around to the cattle guard front end and checked the license plate just to be sure.

BEATINGU.

He and Lynn looked at each other. "I told you," he said.

The older girl's face was white and the boundless bravado that characterized her personality was nowhere to be found. "Come on," she said, "we better tell Mom."

For once, Lincoln agreed with her.

Outside, the sun finally gave up the ghost and sank behind the mountains. The sky was blood red and Lincoln couldn't help seeing it as a bad omen. He looked around the gloomy yard but didn't see anyone or anything. He had that creepy being-watched feeling again and he quickened his step; by the time he and Lynn reached the house, he was almost running.

Inside, Mom sat in the middle of the floor with Lily, a sea of sleeping bags around her. A lantern sat beside her and cast flickering firelight across the walls. Lucy sat with her back against the wall and read, Lisa tinkered with her chemistry set, Lori shook her phone and begged it to work with her eyes, and Leni petted a tiny baby skunk curled up in her lap. "Cute mousey thing,' she cooed.

"Mom," Lincoln said in a rush, "he's here, we saw his truck, He's going to kill us all."

Mom looked confused. "Who's here?"

"The guy who ran us off the road," Lynn said. "His truck's parked in the barn, we saw it."

A look of fear crossed Mom's face and she got to her feet. "Oh, my God." Lucy, Lisa, Leni, and Lori all looked up as she began to pace.

"Where's Dad?" Lincoln asked.

"I-I don't know," Mom said, "he went to get firewood but he isn't back." She looked at her children. "Where are Luna, Luan, Lana, and Lola?" she asked. Panic edged her voice.

Lincoln swallowed. "Lana and Lola went in the stable and Luan went to get them. I-I thought they were back."

The color drained from Mom's face. "Go find them."

Nodding, Lincoln rushed off and Lynn came with, pulling the flare gun from her waistband. The color had rapidly filtered from the sky and stars twinkled in the dark blue sky. The wind was cooler now, drying the sweat on Lincoln''s arms. Terror threatened to overwhelm him and if it weren't for Lynn, he probably would have turned back around. At the stable, they hesitated. Inside, it was a nest of shadows. "Do you have your phone?" Lynn asked.

"Right here," Lincoln said and took it out. He put on the flashlight.

"Stay with me," Lynn said.

Side by side, they went in, Lincoln shining the light left and right and jumping at every misshapen shadow. The phone shook in his hands and beside him, Lynn panted for air; he was crazily certain that he could hear the frightened beat of her heart.

"Lola!" she called. Fear was evident in her shaky voice. "Luan?"

Her voice echoed in the eaves, but the only reply was the flutter of bat wings.

Lincoln shone the light on the ground, and his blood turned to ice water. "Lynn," he said, "look."

Tiny drops of tacky red liquid marred the floor. It was splattered on the stall doors as well, and drenched the wooden support beam to Lynn's right. They both stared at it for a long time, knowing instinctively what it was but not wanting to admit it, even to themselves.

Blood.

There was more of it at the bottom of the ladder, a big, spreading pool that looked like far more than someone could survive losing. Lincoln swallowed hard and pointed the beam up the ladder. Something told him his missing sisters were up there.

And probably not alive.

"I'm not going up there," Lynn said. "No way, no how."

Every fiber of Lincoln's being told him that he had to climb that ladder, that Lola, Lana, Luan, or Luna might be hurt, but like Lynn, he couldn't. Cold terror filled his stomach and his knees knocked together. He felt like he was going to be sick or pass out, maybe both.

A fluttering sound rose to their right and they turned.

Something lunged from the shadows and hit Lynn, shoving her hard against one of the stall doors. The gun fell from her hand and slid away. Lincoln screamed so loud that his vision grayed and his head ached. He was running before he even knew he was reacting. He barreled out of the stable and turned a sharp left, his only thought being getting back to the house. He realized that he had just abandoned Lynn but he couldn't stop. He looked back, and the monster was rushing toward him, its arms outstretched and its coat fluttering around it like a vampire's cape. In an errant shaft of moonlight, its face was black and alien, its eyes shining yellow. Lincoln screamed and pushed himself harder. The house drew closer, shelter, salvation, but so did the monster.

When he reached the porch, he stumbled up the steps, burst through the door, and slammed it shut behind him, throwing himself back against it. Lori, Leni, and Lucy looked up, and Mom spun around to face him, Lily in her arms. "HE GOT LYNN!" Lincoln wailed.

"What?" Mom asked.

"He's coming," Lincoln sobbed. He pressed himself against the door as if by doing so he could keep the monster out, but nothing happened. He expected the door to explode open and the thing to enter, but an eerie stillness held sway.

It wasn't to last. The window next to Lincoln imploded in a shower of glass and the creature rolled across the floor, jumping to its feet. Lori, Leni, and Lucy all screamed. They got up and scattered, Leni bolting upstairs and Lori and Lucy disappearing into the shadows beyond the rim of the light cast by the lantern. Lisa sat where she was, frozen in fear, and Mom fell back a step, holding Lily tightly. The baby saw the monster and began to cry.

"No!" Mom screamed. "Go away! Leave us alone!"

The monster approached her.

She turned and tried to run, but it grabbed her by the hair and spun her around. He ripped Lily out of her arms and Mom let loose a soul-piercing scream of horror. "MY BABY, NO!" She threw herself at the monster but it shoved her back with one hand; she hit the wall and fell. Lincoln was paralized, eyes wide, chest heaving. Lisa managed to get to her feet, back to the wall, and slowly inched away.

Lily shrieked and the monster tilted its head left and right, as though it had no idea what a baby was or what you do with it. She thrashed, kicked, and tried to pull away. The monster's eyes narrowed, and he closed his hand around her throat, squeezing. Her eyes bugged out and her face turned blue. Mom screamed and begged, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Grabbing both of Lily's feet in its other hand, the monster violently pulled her apart. Her upper half separated from her lower half and her guts spilled out onto the floor. The look of excruciating agony on the baby's face would haunt Lincoln for the rest of his life, even if he lived to be a thousand.

In two pieces now and spurting blood, Lily went limp and died. The monster slammed her to the floor and brains shot out of her broken skull and across the floor. Mom's face was frozen in a scream and her eyes crossed with madness. She offered no resistance as the monster stalked over and pulled back its foot. It lashed out and the tip of its boot sank into her face, caving it in like an overripe pumpkin.

Lincoln came alive and fumbled with the door latch. In two big strides, the monster was on top of him. It grabbed him in a bear hug and held him to its chest. It was cold, and the smell of its rotting skin plugged Lincoln's nose. The monster reared back, kicked the door open, and dsprinted out into the night with its prize. Lincoln kicked and threw his elbows back into the monster's chest, but it didn't seem to even notice.

At the barn, it threw open the door and carried Lincoln inside, closing it behind them and plunging them into darkness. It hurled Lincoln to the ground and Lincoln's head rocked off the floorboards, dazing him. The monster bent and raked its claws down Lincoln's butt and the backs of his legs, shredding his pants and tearing his skin. Stinging pain streaked into the center of Lincoln's head and a pitiful cry dislodged from his throat. The monster pulled Lincoln's jeans and underwear down and cool air washed over Lincooln's butt. His heart crept into his throat and he got to his knees and tried to crawl away, but the monster grabbed him by his hips and pulled him back.

Over the past two days, Lincoln had imagined a thousand cruel and inhuman fates, but he did not expect the one that actually befell him. The monster knelt and dug its claws into Lincoln, piercing his flesh and pinning him in place. A cold, hard something prodded Lincoln's butt crack, and his entire body tensed. Just as he finally understood what this being meant to do to him, it thrusted deep into his ass. And Lincoln issued a blood-curdling scream. The monster's spiked penis spread Lincoln's pelvis apart and gashed his sensitive walls as it moved back and forth. Lincoln clawed at the floorboard, leaving white scratch marks in the wood, and threw his head back as he screamed again. Blood poured out of his ass around the monster's pumping shaft, and he could feel its tip battering his guts. As if on cue, its pointed tip tore through an interior wall and reached his intestines. Lincoln looked down in horror ad the way his stomach bulged with every thrust.

Lincoln's eyes rolled back into his head and he flopped forward, hitting his face on the floor. The pain was so exquisite now that he had gone numb and all he could feel was pressure. Blood leaked from the tip of his penis and through his belly button as the monster whipped his insides to mush and coldness spread over him.

This was it.

He was going to die, raped to death by the monster.

When a familiar voice rang out, he opened his bleary eyes.

"HEY!"

He and the monster both turned. Lynn stood just inside the barn, her hairy messy and her face covered in bruises and abrasions. Blood leaked from her lower lip and she leaned against the barn door, one foot curled up like a dying bug.

"Get your hands off my brother, you piece of shit."

She raised the flare gun.

With a speed that defied all science and logic, the monster was on top of her, yanking her off the ground. The gun fell to the floor and danced away. The monster spun Lynn around and then buried its face in the crook of her neck. She screamed and blood gushed down her shirt, dripping on the floor like drops of rain. Lynn screamed and tried to fight the demon off, but he was too powerful.

Lincoln's eyes went to the gun. It lay in the straw just out of reach.

Turning around on his knees and wincing at the agony in his guts, Lincoln collapsed to his stomach. His balls caught on a nail head sticking out from the floor and ripped open when he moved. He was so beyond help by now that he didn't even feel it. The monster tore out Lynn's throat and threw its head back, belting a gurgling cry of victory. Blood pumped and spurted from the gaping wound in Lynn's neck. The color was quickly draining from her face and her thrashing gradually slowed.

Someone was crying, and it took Lincoln a moment to vaguely realize that it was him. He reached out and his fingertips brushed the handle of the flare gun, So close yet so far away. The numbness had worn off and his body was a pulsing patchwork of pain. He glanced over his shoulder and realized with cold dread that a long, ropy piece of intestine trailed behind him like a tail.

He didn't want to know where it was coming from.

Heaving himself forward, he grabbed the gun and raised it just as the monster threw Lynn aside. Their eyes met and Lincoln felt so much hatred and repulsion that he thought he was going to explode with it. "Rape this, you pedo scum," he said and jerked the trigger.

The gun jumped in his hand and a ball of fire shot from the barrel with a hollow thunk. The flare struck the monster in the chest and shoved it back against the barn door. It went up almost instantaneously, fire racing up its body and licking the brim of its hat. The monster bellowed in a mixture of pain and fear and wheeled blindly around, fanning the flames. It bumped into a bench and then a support column, both of which caught and began to burn with dry, crackling intensity. The monster ran toward the truck, straw, wood, and the tarp all catching. In moments, the barn was a raging inferno and the monster was an indistinct shape in the void. It ducked and spun, an inhuman cry tearing from its lungs, then fell to its knees. Lincoln watched the flames consume it, feeling savage satisfaction.

When he was sure that the monster wouldn't get up again, Lincoln got to his knees and crawled over to Lynn, hissing through clenched teeth at the pain in his midsection. Intense heat filled the air and the roar of the fire deafened even his own thoughts. Smoke wrapped itself around him and he coughed deeply.

After what seemed like forever, he reached Lynn. Her face was white and her eyes wide and staring. Lincoln looked for signs of life, but found none.

She was dead.

Collapsing against her, Lincoln began to sob. He clutched the front of her shirt and held her close, all of his pain and sorrow pouring from him in a bitter rush,

Around them, the fire grew, racing along the ceiling beams and igniting old wood. One of the beams crashed down and landed on the roof of the truck, blowing its windshield out. Lincoln sniffed and looked up. BEATINGU, the monster's means of transport, was consumed now as well. It was only a matter of time until the gas tank went.

Curling up next to his big sister, Lincoln held her and buried his face in her chest, waiting for the end.

Moments later, the barn exploded into a million pieces. Flaming bits of wood flew into the air and littered the yard. The farm of the barn held for a little while longer, then collapsed inward. Lori, Leni, Lucy, and Lisa were on the highway a half mile south when the night suddenly grew lighter/ They turned just in time to see the fireball lift into the sky like a mushroom. For one burning second, the world was bathed in its brilliant light, then it went down and darkness returned.

Helping each other, they hobbled toward salvation, not knowing what had happened to the rest of their family and praying that they were okay.

Back at Wendigo Ranh, the barn burned long into the night.