by Conrad Jones
‘Don’t play stupid. Why?’
‘Some of them went up the tunnel.’
‘Why?’
‘I’m not sure.’
I took out my combat knife and let the blade glint in the candlelight. Pressing it hard over his little finger, I asked again, ‘Why did they go up the tunnel?’
‘I’m not sure, honestly.’ His eyes flickered up to the left. He was lying.
‘That’s your first lie,’ I explained the rules as I pressed the blade through the knuckle until I felt it strike the metal beneath his finger. I gagged him with my left hand, closing his nose and mouth as he screamed. ‘And that’s your little finger gone. Nine more lies to go before I start on your toes. Get it?’ He nodded furiously, his eyes wide open, set to pop out. Tears ran down his face, making lines in the congealing blood. ‘Now, we don’t want you to bleed to death, do we?’ He shook his head in agreement. I took out my Zippo and clicked the flame alive. Placing the flame over the bleeding stump, I held his face tightly as his body jerked violently. The stump bubbled and sizzled as the wound cauterised. ‘That will stop you bleeding out, but it hurts, doesn’t it?’ He sobbed and nodded. ‘Now I’m going to take my hand off your mouth and we’ll start again. If you scream, I’ll cut your eyes out and leave you here. Get it?’ His muffled groans led me to believe that he did.
‘What do you want to know?’ he gasped. Painful sobs racked his body. ‘Please don’t hurt me anymore.’
‘That’s up to you,’ I smiled. My smile disturbed him. I could tell by his eyes. ‘Now then, why did they go up the tunnel?’
‘They were performing a preliminary ceremony,’ he whispered. His voice was hardly audible. ‘I was supposed to wait for them to come back but then she told me not to open the door for them.’
‘Why?’
‘The explosion.’
‘So, she was here a few minutes ago?’
‘No,’ he said confused. ‘It was over half an hour ago.’
‘Half an hour?’
‘At least.’
That meant that my walk down the tunnel had taken me much longer than I thought it had. It wasn’t beyond the realms of belief the way things had gone. ‘Who were the people they took with them and murdered?’
‘I don’t know, honestly,’ he shook his head. ‘They had them here already. I didn’t know they were going to kill them, honestly.’
‘Bullshit,’ I mumbled. ‘That’s what you sick bastards do isn’t it?’
‘I haven’t been to anything like this before,’ he pleaded innocence. ‘Normally it’s just…’
‘An orgy,’ I finished the sentence for him. ‘How many of them are here?’
‘Ten or twelve, no more than that.’
‘Where is Fabienne now?’
‘They said that they had to get her away because of the explosion,’ he blinked as he spoke. ‘I think she’s already gone.’
‘I think you’re lying again.’ I grabbed his face again and sliced off his index finger at the knuckle. A garbled scream came from deep in his throat, but it was too muffled to attract attention from above. His legs kicked out in the air. ‘Now that was your own fault,’ I whispered into his ear as I took out the lighter and burned the bloody stump until the blood boiled and the flesh blackened. His vigorous twitching slowed and then stopped. He had passed out. ‘Fucking hell,’ I said to the empty room.
I let his limp body hang from the pipe while I looked around. The remaining pipe work ran behind the boiler and through the walls. It obviously provided the heating for the entire building once upon a time, pumping hot water around a mile of pipes and radiators. When the building was constructed, coal fires would have been the only means of heat. The central heating boiler, now antiquated, was a new edition when it was fitted. I knew nothing about plumbing, but I knew it had to be powered by gas or oil. I followed the pipes to the left and decided that they were heating pipes. The ones to the left looked the same. There was one pipe which was thinner than the others. It came through the back wall and ran beneath the kettle, but it had been sawn off and the rest taken for scrap. There was a handle fitted to a valve where it came through the wall. A severed gas main was just what I needed.
I ran back to Colin who was moving and moaning as he came to. ‘Do you smoke?’ I asked him patting his pockets. ‘Wake up.’ I slapped his face hard.
‘No more, please.’
‘Shut up whining,’ I said impatiently. ‘Do you smoke?’
‘No.’
‘No last cigarette for you then.’
‘Don’t kill me.’
‘How many candles have you got down here?’
‘Two,’ he looked at them. They were nearly burnt down.
‘Bollocks,’ I wondered how long the gas would have to run before it was dense enough to cause an explosion. I ran to the gas main and twisted the valve handle. It stuck for a moment then snapped open. I waited for the sound of gas hissing, but none came. There was a gurgling sound and then oil trickled from the severed pipe. ‘I’d never make a plumber, eh Colin?’
‘What are you doing?’
‘Well I was going to blow the place up, but I can’t even cook a sausage with that.’ Colin watched the trickle of oil slow to a drip and then it stopped completely. ‘What’s plan B, Colin?’
‘I don’t know. Take me with you.’
‘What?’
‘Take me with you, or she’ll kill me,’ he began sobbing again. ‘She doesn’t allow for mistakes. She’ll torture me and kill me, or worse.’
‘Worse?’ I had to think about that one. ‘Like the poor fuckers who were taken up the tunnel?’
No answer.
I grabbed the discarded rope and went back to the whinging Niner. ‘Open your mouth.’ He closed his weeping eyes and complied. I wrapped the rope around his head several times, gagging him painfully. ‘I wouldn’t worry about dying if I was you. I would worry about what comes after. If you lot are right and there’s a sinister side to the universe, then you’re about to experience it. I hope that it’s all you thought it would be.’ He struggled against the bindings and the pipes began to bang sending echoes along them through the walls and up into the house itself. Colin took comfort from his noisy achievement and rattled the pipe harder still. ‘Now, what did you do that for?’
Suddenly I felt Fabienne’s focus shift onto me. She wasn’t in the room, but she was watching me. My muscles turned to lead weights and my nose started pumping blood again. Stabbing pains shot through my ears, piercing my brain. I dropped to my knees as the pressure grew. It felt like there was an invisible force squeezing the life from me. I heard footsteps above me, chairs sliding and raised voices. I thought about the young boy in the cell. ‘She said you would come and save us, but you didn’t.’
He wasn’t real. He was an echo of the past replayed in my mind. He wasn’t real. This was real. The pain in my head was real. The blood running into my mouth, dripping from my chin into the filth was real, but the force holding me wasn’t. I knew it wasn’t real. She was controlling my mind, but it wasn’t hers to control. I blinked and shook my head. The feeling lifted slightly. Her focus had moved. Something had distracted her. I ran to the corner and picked up the dirty blanket and dragged the mattress with the other hand. It was coarse, horsehair maybe. Grabbing it, I dropped it onto the floor where the oil had leaked. I wiped it around the concrete soaking up every drop. I flung the oily blanket over Colin’s head and placed the mattress over him. He started shouting at the top of his voice.
‘He’s down here,’ he screamed. ‘Help me. He’s down here.’
‘I think they know,’ I said, sourly. ‘Shall we see if they come to help you?’
I ran to the wooden door and booted the middle, panelled section. The ancient wood splintered down the side. I ripped the bottom half of the door away, the cracking sound boomed off the crumbling walls. ‘No sign of the cavalry yet, Colin,’ I shouted over his screams. I dropped the dry wood on top of the mattress. Voices echoed through the corridor. I ran
and blew out the candles, clipping the night vision goggles down. Peering through the missing door panels, I saw shadowy figures at the end of the corridor. I waited for a clear sight of one of them and aimed the Mossberg.
Movement on the left.
I raised the gun and fired. Plaster and wood exploded off the wall and a cry rang out. I fired again.
‘Fuck this, I’m not going down there.’ The figure withdrew quickly, and I heard footsteps rattling up wooden steps. ‘We’ll wait at the top. He can’t get up the stairs past us.’
‘She said to wait here.’
‘Why isn’t she here then? Fuck it. I’m not getting shot for anyone.’
Their courage inspired me. I fired another three shots to encourage them to retreat and then reloaded quickly. A shadow ran across the corridor. I fired another three-shot volley, just to make sure and then I melted to the wall and moved up the corridor slowly. The floorboards felt brittle and fragile beneath my feet. They’d taken up a defensive position at the top of the cellar stairs and they were right that I couldn’t get up them without being shot. The pressure in my head increased again and my vision blurred. My arms felt weak, barely able to hold up the gun. I crept back into the boiler room and ripped off the remaining pieces of the door.
‘See,’ I said to Colin as I placed the splintered panels against him. ‘They’re not coming to help you. But you can help me, Colin.’
‘Yes, yes,’ he gasped. ‘I’ll help. What can I do?’
‘Burn, you bastard,’ I whispered through the blanket. I put the Zippo to the corner of the material and lit it. The oil caught quickly throwing up plumes of thick black smoke. ‘See you in hell, Colin, save me a seat.’
‘No.’ Colin started to scream, but the flames cut his wailing short. As he inhaled, the burning fumes frazzled the delicate tissues in his trachea. The flames spread quickly to his clothes and the tinderbox-dry floorboards. They crackled into flames in seconds. I watched his terrified struggles for a moment and then ran for the tunnel door.
Unbolting it, I felt her focus on me again. My knees buckled. I fell to the floor and scraped the scabs from my wounds. I spat phlegm mixed with blood onto the wall and watched in fascination as it dribbled down. Maggots appeared and devoured the globule before becoming blue-bottles and buzzing straight onto my face. I swiped at them and tried to tell myself they weren’t real. It was her creating the images in my mind. I felt that I needed to go back the way I’d come. Back into the house. Back into the flames. I was magnetised to the source of her energy. It was commanding me, controlling me. It was violently dominant, brutally forceful, yet undeniably desirable. The image of Fabienne naked, writhing in blood flooded my mind. The images were sadistically passionate, cruelly beautiful, intensely addictive, yet terrifying. I had to follow the lure. I knew that I was a fish heading for the hook, a moth to a flame, a lemming to the cliff edge, but there was no denying the desperate need to follow. I felt myself taking a step. Then another. Each step sucked my will and sapped my resistance. Smoke was filling the tunnel and breathing was painful. I heard the questions in my mind. How could I not want to go to her? How could I not want to be part of her forever? The evil, the violence the torture and the sweet agony of others were all there for the taking. My heart was blacker than theirs, so why didn’t I just give it up and add my evil soul to the greater power, the ultimate malevolence and enjoy eternity suffering?
‘Give in and come to me.’ Her voice whispered inside my head.
‘Fuck you.’ I said to myself.
‘You want me.’
‘You’re scum.’
‘You love me.’
‘I despise you.’
‘Stop fighting me. Come to me and we can be one for all time. You’ve proved that you’re evil enough, sick enough, black enough inside to be mine. Come to me.’
‘I’m coming to you,’ I said in the darkness of the tunnel. Her voice hadn’t had the effect which she desired. In fact, it had the opposite effect. ‘I’m coming to blow your fucking brains out.’
I heard screaming. Loud, high-pitched screaming. Deafening, tortured screaming which pierced my very soul. I covered my ears and closed my eyes. The pain in my head was excruciating. I dropped to my knees and gritted my teeth. The screaming dropped an octave and became muffled. As the sound became more bearable, I realised the screams were my own, but I couldn’t stop them. The images in my head were too explicit, too visceral, too hideous to ignore. We were entwined in a passionate embrace. She scratched my body with yellowed nails, tore at my throat with lycanthropic fangs, ripped out my innards with skeletal hands and it was such sweet pain. I wanted it. I wanted her again. I wanted her once more before she tore me to pieces. The putrid visions reverberated around my head. I couldn’t take anymore.
I opened my eyes and slammed my forehead against the tunnel wall. White light flashed behind my eyes. I smashed it again. Damp lichen stuck to my skin. I was blinded by the impact. Again. The images exploded with the pain. Again. Blood ran from a cut above my right eye. Again. The pain replaced everything, numbing the disgusting desires, the filth, the vileness which was seeping into my soul. Again. I fell onto my back breathless and bleeding, but free of her. She was gone for a moment, but I knew the spell was only broken for now. The evil in that place was overwhelming, omnipotent, suffocating and smothering. I wasn’t strong enough to get physically any closer to her. She’d try to bend my mind again and this time I wouldn’t be able to resist. I couldn’t split my skull open repeatedly to expel her projections. She was too strong, and she was becoming stronger by the minute. I could feel her presence fingering my skin, tainting the air I breathed, reaching and prodding for a way into my soul. It was like a weight pressing down on me. I had to go back and get out of the tunnel before she swamped my mind for good. I wiped the blood from my eye with the back of my hand and walked quickly back to the steps. The closer I got, the more the weight lifted. I sucked in a lungful of fresh air and felt the oxygen invigorating my body. The blackness began to leave me and as I climbed the steps, I felt tinges of hope. I lifted my face to the rain and laughed like a lunatic. I clambered over dirt and debris to reach the edge of the trapdoor. I sidestepped a severed arm and noticed with some amusement that the dead hand was still gripping the taser. I reached the top and peeped up over the mound of remains.
A bullet blasted into the rock behind me, sparks flew into the air. I crawled away from the entrance, using the bricks and rubble as cover until I reached a point far enough away to risk looking again. Through the night vision goggles, I could see a group walking from the mansion. There was smoke rising from the vents above the cellars. An orange glow came from the cracks in the brickwork. The dry joists and floorboards had caught fire; the blaze had spread to the floors above quickly. I watched as they fled, five people huddled together. They were heading for the gate to the jetty. A green blob appeared from behind the wall and another shot rang out. I was pinned down with nowhere to go. I felt her focus upon me again but this time it was suffocating. She’d aimed every evil ounce of strength that she had on me. I couldn’t fight her like this. The game was over. In close proximity to her, I was powerless. Enough was enough. I couldn’t finish this on my own. She was too strong. That’s when I knew how this would end.
CHAPTER 42
I took out the mobile and dialled 999. The operator diverted the call to the police, and I explained who I was and what I was about to do. They thought that I was either completely mad or telling the truth, which pretty much amounted to the same thing. When they were convinced, I hung up and I peeked up again. The five people were next to the gate at the edge of the jetty. Three of them were armed, one was making a call and the other was carrying a bundle. The bundle glowed green, but it was a different hue. It was the size of a baby, but the shivers down my spine told me that it might not be. I lifted the goggles and saw the woman holding it. Her skin was black, and she turned to look at me. Her eyes glinted in the moonlight like black diamonds. As her eyes met mi
ne, I was transfixed. It was Fabienne Wilder, although she looked very different. Her skin once flawless, was creased and wrinkled, deep lines started at the corners of her eyes and then criss-crossed her face. Her jet-black hair was streaked with grey and her back was stooped. She looked a hundred years older than when we had last met.
‘Fabienne,’ I shouted from behind my mound. ‘You look a bit rough.’
‘Oh, I just need some ‘nutrition’ and I’ll be as right as rain,’ she sounded angry but fragile. ‘The souls you released tonight are making me stronger already. I must thank you for that. You kill without thought and each one makes me stronger, you fool.’
‘Is this what it’s all about?’ I shouted. ‘All this cosmic energy and sacrifice bullshit, is it all to keep your body from turning to dust?’
‘All you have achieved is to delay the inevitable.’
‘Good.’
‘The child will still be taken by the beast on Lammas Day and when she is, I’ll be rewarded with her youth. You, nor any other mortal can stop that from happening.’
‘I can’t let that happen, Fabienne,’ I shouted. A bullet ripped into the wall behind me just to remind me not to stand up. ‘The police are on their way, Fabienne.’
I heard startled voices arguing. Most of her followers couldn’t afford to be outed. I peered over the top again. They were heading onto the jetty and angry words were exchanged.
‘You’re a liar,’ I heard her scream. Two of them were guiding her towards the jetty. ‘He’s a fucking liar. He wouldn’t risk it. He’ll be locked up for the rest of his miserable life.’
The familiar sounds of sirens came from the distance. I used the noise to sneak another look. A bullet whistled past my ear. I took out the Glock. I was too far away to use the Mossberg with any significant effect. The rifleman was a good shot, but he was getting on my tits. ‘Can you hear the sirens, Fabienne?’
‘There are twelve days until Lammas Day, you idiot.’ she screamed. Her voice was cracking. She was scared of dying. ‘There’s plenty of time. I will find you and you will die. The child is already dead.’ She shook the bundle violently. I heard a whimper, but it didn’t sound human.