by Ian Woodhead
Tony gritted his teeth while he dragged his damaged knuckles down the wall, leaving an impressive trail of blood. The intense pain and the burning soon covered over that alien sensation of wanting to hide, shivering under the stairs. Fuck that, he was Tony Lane. He was the biggest and nastiest badass motherfucker in Colbeck. He was scared of nothing and nobody.
Let daddy say his piece. Fine, so Tony had fucked his slutty daughter. So, he might have overstepped the friendship line, but that Emma had been begging for a taste of Tony’s cock for far too long.
“As for the wife, well she can fuck herself as well.” He punched the wall one more time before making his way down the stairs. Tony needed to stuff his face, god, his stomach thought he had cut his throat.
As he wandered into the kitchen, he smiled as the memory of a little more of his antics from last night finally decided to make an appearance. It annoyed him that the recollections were of some guy getting fresh outside the chip shop and not of him sorting out that Emma. He really did want to remember the sex bit.
Tony opened the fridge and pulled out a packet of cooked turkey. He opened the packet and pushed two slices into his mouth while looking for anything else to eat. Tony laughed when he spotted a scotch egg stuffed right at the back. It’s almost as if Emma’s mum knew he was staying. She knew that Tony loved them. He stood up and peered out of the window, watching the sun dip below the horizon.
Where the fuck was the girl’s parents? He found it pretty hard to believe that neither Steven or Christina hadn’t noticed Emma’s new addition. He could understand his mate not disturbing him but not Christina. If that bitch caught an inkling that Tony had been inside her pretty daughter, she’d pushed a shotgun right up his arse and given him both barrels.
“That Christina wouldn’t mess around.” The only thing that made sense was they hadn’t come home last night, either. Tony checked the door and found it locked with the keys on the inside, he still couldn’t remember much of last night. He certainly didn’t remember Emma locking the kitchen door.
No, they couldn’t have come back, if they had, Tony would have probably woken up in hospital with his arse full of grapeshot. He stuffed half the scotch egg into his mouth and walked to the foot of the stairs, pausing to look into the living room. He would just check the rest of the rooms before walking back into Emma’s room and climbing back into bed with her.
What’s the point of giving himself a headache, trying to remember what they got up to last night? If they had the house to themselves, they could do whatever the fuck they wanted to each other. Tony couldn’t think of a better way to spend a Sunday evening. Christ, it was a lot fucking better than sitting on their tattered couch in his living room, watching the usual shite on the box. That cow of a wife would be there, right now, dipping her fat fingers into his chocolates while lost in some boring soap. She probably won’t even be missing him. More likely, she’ll be glad he wasn’t there.
Tony climbed the stairs and finished off the last piece of scotch egg. He tried to remember if Emma’s parents had something on tonight, nothing came to mind but that didn’t surprise him, his brain still hadn’t revved back up to first gear yet. “A quick dip into the girl’s sweet well will sort that problem out.”
Tony stopped outside her parent’s door and placed his ear to the wood, he heard no snoring nor any quiet conversation. He opened their door and smiled at the sight of their empty bed. That suited him right down to the ground. He turned around and grinned, wondering if Emma had ever done it in this nice big bed. Knowing her reputation, Tony guessed he’d be able to tick that box straight away. The loose bitch hadn’t done it with him in there though.
“I’ll soon alter that.” He left their door wide open and pushed open the girl’s door, smiling when he saw that she’d woken. Emma wiped her eyes and yawned.
“Hey there,” she said, smiling. “I thought you’d sneaked off back home.”
He shook his head, “Not a chance of that, baby.”
Emma giggled. “Good, then I think we should carry on from where we left off.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” he replied. “Maybe we could do with a little more room?” Tony gestured towards her parents open door.
“You’re kidding, right? The pair of them would have a fucking heart attack if they found out we had used their bed.”
Tony had to stop and think about that one, was this girl for real? “Sweetheart, do you not think they’d be a little more concerned about finding out about me?” Tony walked over to the bed and pulled off the quilt. “Oh, whoops, your quilt is on the floor, you must be so cold. Why don’t you let me warm you up?”
The girl leaped out of bed and flew into his arms. She ran her hands down his body until they reached his behind. Emma licked his chin. “I so need to feel you inside me,” she moaned.
He moaned too when she slipped both her warm hands inside his boxers and wrapped her fingers around his stiffening shaft. “Come on, you. No foreplay.” Tony grabbed her arm and dragged the giggling girl out of her bedroom. He pushed her onto the double bed and pulled down his boxers.
“Oh, fuck me, she gasped when Tony climbed onto the bed. “I don’t remember it being so big last night.”
He positioned himself between her spread legs. “Babes, we were both pissed out of our heads. I can’t remember anything what we did last night. I intend that we both remember this time. Now shut up and relax.”
Tony grew harder when he saw Emma look down before placing her lip between those pearl white teeth. He used his thumb to guide his penis inside her, releasing a quiet moan as the girl caught her breath. He pushed his full length into her, pinning her thighs to the bed when she bucked.
“Oh god, oh fuck, Tony!” she screamed.
“Oh yes, bitch, shout out my name.”
Emma suddenly sat up and slapped away his hands. “You need to get off me!” she gasped. “I don’t fucking believe this.” She rolled off the bed and ran over to the door. “Can’t you hear them?” she hissed. “They’re come back home!”
Tony pushed her out of the bedroom and snatched up his boxers before he followed her back into her room. “They can’t be home, Emma. Your kitchen door is locked and the keys are still inside.”
“I know what I heard. Look, just get into my bed, baby.” She kissed him softly. Don’t you think you’re getting out of it that easily. I’ll just go say hello and make us a drink. I won’t be long. Don’t worry, you’ll be safe in here. They know better than to come in here.”
Tony nodded. “Emma? How do you feel?”
She shrugged, “I’ve got a banging headache and I’m more nervous then I should be. I’m putting that down to having you in my room.”
He waited until she left the bedroom before sitting on the edge of the bed. That sensation of uneasiness had sneaked back into his system. It remained him of a gnawing mild toothache or an itch that just couldn’t reach. It was driving him batshit. The need to service this girl had started to leave him as well. For the first time in years, Tony wanted to fall back into his old routine again.
“Come on, you sappy old bastard,” he muttered. “Get a fucking grip on yourself.” Tony wandered over to the bedroom door and silently opened it, trying to hear any sound coming from downstairs. Just like last time, Tony heard nothing.
He frowned and almost called out Emma’s name. He shook his head, blaming his lack of judgment on this stupid sensation, this nervousness was even worse than when his father had caught young Tony stealing a tenner from his mother’s purse.
Tony leaned over the banister, catching sight of shadows moving from the kitchen into the living room, it bothered him greatly that he heard no noises. Where were the pleasant conversations? Her mum had a right gob on her, that woman didn’t know the meaning of shut the fuck up. Come to think of it, Emma promised him a cup of tea as well. Tony heard no evidence of cup clanking, nor had he heard the girl putting the kettle on.
This was just not right. He wasn’t about
to dismiss this as another scaredy cat feeling, not this fucking time. He watched those shadows for another moment, becoming more and more convinced that none of them belonged to Emma’s mum and dad.
“Fuck this,” he muttered. Tony ran along the hallway and raced down the stairs, keeping his eyes fixed on that living room door. Nothing moved as he charged down the stairs. He looked into the living room and saw nobody.
“What the fuck?”
He went through the kitchen door, expecting to find Emma in there and again, the room was devoid of life, he shuddered as he turned and saw that the keys were still in the door. “Emma!” he shouted. “Where are you?”
Tony growled, this had to be some stupid teenage game, had the bitch set him up here? Had she secretly invited a few of her mates around when he’d left her bedroom? “Emma, I’m not fucking messing about here.”
He placed his hand against the kettle, not surprised to find it still cold. He felt his fury return, this would not end well. Tony didn’t like people fucking with him. “I’ll give you one last chance, Emma. I’m a reasonable bloke, if you come out from wherever the fuck you’re hiding and say sorry, we’ll forget this little prank even happened.”
The cupboard door by his leg moved, he jumped back before crouching down. He watched it open a little more. “Just what the hell are you playing at?” he shouted. “This is what kids do.” He grabbed the handle and pulled the door wider, crying out as Emma’s still body fell out and landed on his chest. Tony shrieked in terror when he saw that both her legs were missing.
“I had no choice,” growled a voice behind him.
Tony pushed the body off him, and he jumped up and ran over to the counter top. Tony pulled a knife out of the block and spun around, swinging the blade in a low arc. He found himself alone again; he gazed at his blood stained top before reluctantly following the blood trails until he found the girl’s mutilated body. “Come out, you evil fucking cunt!” he roared. “I’m going to pull your legs off.” Tony ran into the hallway and dived into the living room, looking for any place where this murderer could be hiding. The only area where he could be was behind the sofa. Tony picked up a large porcelain vase and threw it, watching the ornament fly through the air before dropping behind the sofa.
He heard it crash into the carpet. Tony saw movement, he raised the knife up, ran towards the figure and slammed the blade down, grinning with satisfaction as he drove the knife deep into their leg. Tony triumph was short lived as he felt two pairs of hands grip his clothes and drag his struggling body back into the kitchen. The fury dissolved when he saw three naked middle-aged women sat around Emma’s body. They fought amongst each other like starving jackals fighting over a kill. Tony watched one of them duck under a thrown punch then use the curved scimitar like talons on her left hand to rip through Emma’s soft stomach. The growling woman then pulled out some of the dead girl’s soft organs and raced across the kitchen leaving the remaining women to tear into the gaping wound.
Tony felt a hand grab his hair, the sight of those things eating Emma disappeared and his world exploded with intense white light as somebody slammed the back of his head into cold tiles.
“Do I have your attention now, Tony?” asked a deep voice behind him.
He groaned, trying to focus on the blurred pink oval shape over his head. “I’m going to fucking destroy you.” He growled.
The blurred shape found focus, Tony found himself gazing in revulsion at the distorted face of a teenage youth. The shiny skin fought to keep the meat below from bursting through. He saw a dozen repaired rips, under the chin, below the eyes and across the cheeks. The crude stitching moved and undid as this abomination smiled down at Tony. “You really do have plenty of spirit inside your large frame. I cry at the thought of all that anger just wasting away. It should be put to a more profitable use. Just not by you, my excitable little goat.”
Tony flinched when this thing brushed the back of his hand along the man’s cheek. He glared at some young girl, pinning his left arm to the tiles. Oh hell, he knew her. This was Mrs Waterman’s kid. She used to teach Samuel maths and history. What the hell had happened to her, god, he couldn’t even lift his arm. “Get off me, right now, kid.” Judging from the noise coming out of the thing’s throat, it was either choking or thought this was the funniest joke he’d ever heard.
“Yes, I have made the right choice with you.” The thing leaned even closer. “Three of my flock are consuming your mate and yet, I’ve yet to witness a single shed tear.”
“I’ll mourn for the poor girl once you and the rest of you fucking maniacs are dead.” He roared and tried once more to get them off his body.
“What do you want from me?”
“Mr Lane, I am a little insulted that you do not know. You should feel blessed. I need a new body and I have chosen yours.”
Tony then howled in terror as the creature slowly opened its mouth. He looked at all those uneven, jagged teeth, filling its ever-expanding mouth and felt his bowels let go. The creature sighed, lowered his head and fastened its teeth over the man’s face, muffling his shrieking.
Chapter Seventeen
Dan winced at the sound his mum’s body made as she tripped and fell against the bare floorboards. His dad rushed over and picked her off the floor. He brushed the dirt off her knees and sat her down next to Alison.
He hurried over to the open window and closed it, after checking to make sure there was nobody about. They hadn’t been followed, at least, Dan didn’t think anyone had seen the four of them escape from the house. He looked over at his mum and dad, watching them huddle. They would be still hiding from the others and stumbling through the darkened back streets of Colbeck, on the two-mile journey to the church hall if it hadn’t been for his parents.
His parents knew more short cuts and hidden footpaths then both Alison and Dan put together. It took a panicked dash through the village, avoiding their pissed off neighbours to realise that these two middle-age people had not always lived in his fucking kitchen.
“Mum, are you okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah, it’s only my ego that’s bruised. I’m too old for this shit.”
Dan looked around the old storeroom; it hadn’t changed in all those years. He looked over at Colin. “Good choice, we ought to be safe, at least until we figure out what to do next.”
He and Colin had once broken in here back when they were still in secondary school. His mate had somehow persuaded him that the single upper floor window in the church hall was where they stored all the chocolate bars. Colin had overheard this from his father so it must be true. After almost breaking their necks, ripping up and cutting open their arms on the barbed wire, the boys had found the room not much different from how it looked now. Apart from a battered table pushed up against the wall beside where Colin sat and a box full of dusty bibles, the room was empty.
“Wait, that’s different,” he said, walking over to the blue panelled door. The door had been locked, on their last visit. He crouched and ran his finger along the door’s edge, where the lock mechanism should have been.
“It looks like somebody really wanted to get in this room,” said Colin. “I reckon somebody had the same idea as us and didn’t have a key.”
Dan nodded and pulled the door open a little wider.
“Son, do you think that’s a wise idea?” said his dad. “Remember, we came here because it was somewhere secure, a room where we could at least be safe.”
“I know that but it’s obvious that somebody recently has been in here. Look, there’s still a few bits of broken wood on the floor. I think we should at least go have a look.”
He didn’t bother to wait for the reply. Dan knew that he was right on this one. He quietly padded out into the corridor, thankful that there was a single low wattage lightbulb hung from the ceiling. It didn’t give off much light but it was enough to see where he was going. There were more boxes in the corridor than in that room. He brushed past a pile of old banana boxes stack
ed with tatty paperbacks, plastic toys and ornaments.
He guessed that half of the villagers unwanted bits of crap were in these boxes, all ready to be dragged out at the merest whiff of a jumble sale or gala. Dan reached the end door and turned around to see the others were following him. He glanced at the boxes and guessed that after tonight, all this stuff would probably end up on a landfill site after the authorities had finished tearing their village to pieces, looking for clues as to what happened.
His dad nodded and Dan grabbed the door handle and slowly turned it. He heard the sudden distant shouting before he had a chance to open the door. For that moment, Dan contemplated just turning around and rushing back to that storeroom. In the end, the desire for information kept him from running.
The door led out onto the balcony, above the main hall. He opened the door just wide enough so he could crawl out. Dan made his way over to the edge and peered through two of the green painted wooden slats. There must have been nearly everyone in the village all crowded together in the village hall’s assembly room. What the fuck were they up to? He then noticed where the shouting was coming from. On the stage, at the back of the room, he saw Samuel and some old lady having a bit of a tiff.
“That’s Mrs Dando,” whispered his dad. “She’s the one who organises the church hall’s engagements. I guess she must be a bit pissed that the kid is muscling in on her patch.”
The old woman’s verbal protests increased when two of Samuel’s associates jumped onto the stage and dragged her backstage. What surprised Dan were the apathetic reactions from the other villagers. Only yesterday, an event like that would have kept the gossipers busy for weeks.