Read C.O.T.V.H. (Book 1): Creation for Free Online Page B

His jaws were filled with razor sharp teeth that snapped like a crazed beast.   John’s muscles strained as his hands pressed up against the creature's throat, trying to keep it from ripping his face off. Its claws wrapped tightly around John’s arms drawing blood. Only John's much longer reach kept them from ripping his throat out. Sweat poured down his face. Jake could see his dad didn't have much left.
    “ Bishop!” the creature called out in a deep guttural voice, saliva dripping from its teeth.
    Something deep down inside of Jake snapped, the fear completely disappeared. He ran into the kitchen letting loose a violent rage filled cry and slammed the bat as hard as he could into Marty White’s head. “Mr. White stop!" he cried out as he swung. "Please! Stop!" Marty didn’t even acknowledge him. Jake swung for the fences, slamming the bat again and again into his body. Without even turning, the creature grabbed the bat in its clawed grip and yanked it from Jake's hands. It squeezed tightly, leaving large finger print indentations in the aluminum, and then tossed it across the room where it crashed through the kitchen window.
    Jake stared at his empty hands. Yelling out a cry of disbelief, he grabbed a giant butcher knife off the countertop and stabbed as hard as he could into the monster's back.  It was like plunging into solid rock.  The blade sunk at most two inches.
    The beast turned, grabbing at the knife, its face now less than a foot from Jake. Its red eyes held a haunted look filled with fear and confusion. It was the most terrifying thing Jake had ever seen. He fell back to the yellow linoleum, his eyes locked on the creature’s twisted features. John grabbed the knife in his massive hands and plunged it to the hilt then twisted it. The beast roared out in pain and turned back to face him. John yanked the knife out and thrust it deep into the side of its chest just below the left armpit, puncturing its heart. As the beast turned back to face him, a dark blackish blood sprayed from its lips, spreading across John’s hands and chest.
    The creature's crimson eyes rolled back into its head and it dropped to the floor completely motionless. Tears began streaming down Jake’s face, his moment of courage having faded after seeing the horrific look in Mr. White’s eyes. Before he could utter a single cry, John grabbed a meat cleaver off the counter and with two chops cut Marty’s head off. Jake screamed a high-pitched scream then fainted onto the floor.
    When he next awoke, he was laying on his parent’s king size bed looking up at the ceiling. The sound of running water was coming from the bathroom. Was it a dream? He thought to himself. Then he looked down at his still urine soaked pants. "Dad!" he cried out, “Dad!” he screamed again even louder.
    “ I’m here! I’m here!” John said, coming out of the bathroom in his boxers, his hair soaking wet with a towel over his shoulder.
    Tears streamed down Jake’s cheeks. “Dad what’s going on? What . . . what happened? Where's . . . the monster?” he said shaking, his eyes searching around the room.
    John sat down next to him and wrapped his massive arms protectively around Jake, cradling him as if he were an infant.  "Shhh. It's okay.  It's okay.  The monster can't hurt you anymore."
    After several long minutes of crying, Jake looked up at him, his eyes puffy and red with tears still streaming down his face and said, "But, Dad, you said there’s no such thing as monsters.” Jake sobbed again. “Is there?”
    John looked down at his son with a sad, defeated look in his eyes.  He didn't answer.  Instead, he carried Jake into his bedroom and helped him get out of his wet clothes and into a pair of blue jeans and a fresh white T-shirt. It was then that Jake noticed the deep claw marks running across his dad’s right arm. “Dad! You’re hurt!” he cried out.
    “ It’s nothing son, nothing,” John said, looking down at his arm. When Jake