I lunged toward Coveton, swinging the idol at his chest, hoping that a mere touch would cause his skin to burst into flames. But Coveton leapt to the side. My foot caught loose gravel, and I fell forward. The abrupt blow to my chest knocked the wind out of me, and the crucifix flew from my hand.  It rattled at first then took a sharp bounce and came to rest at the woman’s feet.

More embarrassed than hurt, I lumbered up, gripping the wooden stake securely in hand. Coveton stood near the cemetery’s gate, hands at his hips. I heard him sigh. He rubbed his face with both hands.

“I don’t want to drink anyone’s blood, Jeremy.  Look it’s cold out here.  I’m cold, and you must be freezing,” he said.

His powers were indeed considerable, as he even knew my name. More of his mind tricks.

“Ah, well done, Coveton. You know who I am. Then you know what I am here to do. You must die!”

Again, I went at him, this time swinging the stake. I could hear a rush of air, as the wind  began to pick up, and the mad pounding of rain started once more. The wood spike in my hand was long and sharp, able to pierce through bone. But as the weapon arched, Coveton caught my wrist. I pulled and yanked to free my arm. His cold breath poured over my face and smelled of burnt flesh.  He squeezed my wrist until my bones nearly snapped. Never had I felt such pain; the sensation was overwhelming. My eyes closed, and I saw colors: deep patterns of red and brown.

“Let it go,” he shrieked. Without the strength to match Coveton, I released the stake. It made a thump on the ground, and I collapsed next to it, ready to accept my death.

Instead, Coveton stepped away and walked toward the woman again. The rain intensified as large drops smacked against my face, the sound of which created an almost musical discord. Through the corner of my eye, I saw Coveton and the woman standing close as lovers would. Though unable to hear over the throbbing in my head and the pounding rainfall, I could see their arms waving and pointing, mouths wide open, and at one point the girl gesturing in my direction.

Lightning illuminated the landscape. My eyes darted around until they found where my backpack lay, several yards inside the cemetery. I scampered towards it, staggering with each step as the weight of the water from the sky soaked my clothes. My leather pack was dark against the saturated dirt, but I flailed at it until my hands caught a strap. The revolver’s metal poked through a flap and glinted in the light. I fumbled while removing it, careless in my desperation. Heavy footsteps were close, and as I spun around to aim the pistol, my eyes filled with the sight of Coveton already on top of me. A gunshot went off into the air. Coveton winced. In one single motion, he swatted the gun from my hand and struck me across the face. My mouth stung, and I tasted blood. I noticed that the bullet had grazed his shoulder.