Snuff Club: An Extreme Horror Novel

by Sam West

  Her face was now a violent shade of red, her eyes wild and bulging. Around him, he heard laughter. He joined in. This had to be one of the few times in his life that the laughter wasn’t directed at him. In that moment he felt like king of the fucking world and he slammed into her, his heart bursting with pride. Her blood quickly pooled around the handle of the knife and ran in rivers down her flanks.

  Thoughts of Julie danced on the edges of his mind as he thrust inside of her. The coppery stench of blood and evil hung heavy in the air, making his nostrils flare and his balls tighten.

  Steven had never been happier, he couldn’t be more at ease with the man he had become.

  *****

  Julie pulled into her driveway at exactly half past ten. She killed the engine, looking forward to putting her feet up after an eight-hour shift at the hospital. She wondered if Grant would still be up – quite often he went to bed around ten on a ‘school night’ if he was particularly knackered. She hoped not, it had been manic at the hospital today and she longed to see his kind face.

  She had felt ‘off’ all day. It wasn’t anything she could put her finger on, but that feeling had clung to her, distracting her from her work and leaving her feeling uneasy.

  What the hell is with me? she wondered. Maybe my period is due, or something.

  Except it wasn’t that and she knew it. Her previously buried, crappy memories had been stirred up and she couldn’t quite seem to push them back down again.

  Just as she was about to push open the car-door, a movement in next door’s window caught her eye. She gasped, her heart hammering painfully against her ribcage. Mark’s face leered at her from his living-room window. Obviously, she was able to see his face far more clearly than he could hers, but he was staring right at her. It was almost like he was daring her to challenge him.

  His lips pulled back in a horrible grin, and then he disappeared from view.

  She licked her dry lips, staring at the empty spot where he had just stood.

  But what was he daring her to challenge him about? And what the hell had he been wearing, anyway?

  It had looked like some kind of clown-suit, with bright red pom-poms running down the front of it. What the hell was he doing dressed up as a clown? Was Steven in there too, dressed as a clown? And their horrible friends? Were they taking part in the weird clown phenomenon that had swept the nation, where supposedly ‘ordinary’ people dressed up as clowns and went around terrorising the public?

  What the hell is going on next door?

  I don’t think I want to know.

  Sighing, she gathered together her stuff and went inside.

  Despite every downstairs light blazing, from the second she pushed open the door, she could sense that Grant wasn’t up. Disappointment clawed at her guts. Other misplaced feelings swept over her; namely loneliness and confusion. The confusion stemmed from the uneasiness that had been her constant companion all day. Not only that, she was confused as to why she had reacted so violently to seeing Mark’s face in the window.

  Come on, she told herself, it’s no big thing, he was looking out the window, so what. Get a hold of yourself, for pity’s sake.

  She thought about going upstairs and waking up Grant, but then thought better of it. What was she supposed to say to him, exactly? Oh, I saw one of the guys next door looking out of the window? And it wasn’t like she ever intended to tell him about the rape.

  She walked through to the living-room and froze on the spot, her large shoulder-bag dropping from her suddenly slack fingers. Industrial metal and grunting drifted through the far wall, making her cringe. They were watching porn again. A wave of nausea rose in her guts, and she swayed slightly on the spot.

  I should call the police.

  She almost laughed aloud at that crazy thought. It wasn’t even as if their TV was turned up that loud, it was just that the walls were too thin.

  I’m being a paranoid idiot. And I will not waste another second thinking about the scumbags next door.

  She switched off every light downstairs and double-checked that the front-door was locked and the alarm set. Satisfied, she made her way to bed, bypassing her usual cup of tea or glass of wine.

  Tomorrow was another day, and she was sure she would feel better in the morning.

  She told herself that, but she didn’t believe it.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Steven stared down at the mess he had made of the prostitute. She was still alive, but only just. He’d gone a little bit crazy in the minute before he came. As he’d fucked her slowly, he’d lightly stabbed her all over her torso. Not deep enough to cause any real damage, but certainly enough to turn her entire body a glistening red. His hand had slipped a little on her left eye, and now it had swollen shut completely. He had been trying to cut off her eyelid, but he’d lost his balance and sliced into her eyeball instead.

  After his orgasm, he stopped cutting. Behind him, his brother let out a low whistle.

  “Nice work.”

  “Thanks,” he replied.

  He wanted to continue – there was so much more he wanted to do to her – but he figured it was only fair that he let one of the others have a turn.

  He stood up and Curly took his place, crouching between her legs. She wasn’t fighting as much anymore. Shame. He liked her fighting spirit, it had made it all so much more fun.

  He ain’t ready to fuck her again, Steven thought with some satisfaction. It felt good to be the biggest stud out of the four of them.

  “Pass me them pliers,” Curly said to Mark, who was still holding the bloody instrument along with the mobile-phone.

  Mark did, and Curly placed the tip of the serrated jaw on her clit.

  “Hey, no fair, I was gonna take her clit,” Mark complained.

  “Relax, I’m just going for the pussy lips.”

  The girl’s one good eye bulged, the whites clearly visible all the way around the blue iris. The silly cow continued to shake her head from side to side – like that was going to do her any bloody good. But it was fair to say that she wasn’t protesting half as emphatically as she had been before.

  Steven watched mesmerised as Curly trailed the pliers over her vagina, before ramming the head of the tool into her pussy hole. He thrust it in and out of her a few times, but she barely even flinched.

  Curly pulled the pliers out and clamped down on an outer lip. Her back arched and her one good eye bulged.

  That’s a better reaction, Steven thought, and smiled.

  Curly gripped the pliers with both hands and tugged. Steven’s eyes widened in disbelief as her pussy lip stretched out to an impossible length.

  Bloody hell, is she made of fucking rubber?

  The lip must have stretched out a good five inches before it ripped. Such was the force Curly was using, he rocked backwards on his heels and landed on rump with his bare feet in the air.

  “You fucking clown!” Mark snorted, shaking with laughter.

  Curly rocked back onto his feet with a grace that belied his bulk, examining the chunk of bloody flesh clamped between the jaws of the pliers.

  Mark’s laughter was infectious and a giggle rose like gas from the pit of Steven’s belly. Soon, they all joined in and the girl curled up in a ball on her side.

  “Fuck it,” Mark said when he’d got himself under control again. “I don’t think she’s gonna last much longer. Wanna do the kill shot?”

  His own giggles subsided as he peered down at the girl. She did indeed look a mess. She had lost a lot of blood. Maybe it looked worse than it really was – he knew himself that a little cut on his finger could look like a six-pint blood loss – but the girl was practically swimming in her own blood. And Mark was right, it would be such a shame if she just died right now without them actually doing anything to her.

  “Fuck it, you’re right,” Dairy said. “Let’s end this and make it look good. I ain’t had much of a go, yet. Howsabout me and Curly finish her?”

  Mark turned his clown mask
towards him. “What do you say, Steven? Shall we let ‘em finish it? That means you and me get to finish the next one.”

  “Sure,” he replied, trying not to let his disappointment show in his voice.

  Fair was fair, he supposed. He stood next to his brother and watched the fun and games. Curly remained squatting between her legs and Dairy strode into the kitchen. He reappeared a few seconds later with a sturdy pair of kitchen scissors and a broad, squat knife that he and Mark used for chopping onions on the rare occasions they bothered to cook.

  “Want these?” Dairy asked Curly, handing him the scissors.

  Curly took them with a thanks. “You read my fucking mind, dude.”

  Together, they cut her up good. Dairy flopped the girl onto her back and fisted her one remaining good tit. Well, almost good tit. Steven had sliced into it, but it wasn’t like the nipple was detached, or anything. He squeezed the small breast and began sawing at the underside of it where tit met ribcage. It started to come away in his hand, the blood spurting in hard jets.

  At the same time, Curly carefully inserted the blades of the scissors into her arsehole and pussy. He wriggled them around a bit, stretching her out and drawing blood.

  He began to snip.

  “Oh man, that’s gross,” Mark laughed.

  The girl was convulsing now, her arms and legs jerking on the ground. Her one good eye stared sightlessly at the ceiling and Mark caught it all on camera. She was making the strangest noises, kind of wet and rasping.

  Curly stopped snipping, and removed the scissors. Just as Dairy lifted off her breast, Curly fisted her conjoined cunt and arsehole. He was kneeling in a puddle of blood, his hand disappearing up inside of her.

  “Roomy. Reckon we could get her head up there.”

  The girl jerked one last time, then fell silent and still. Dairy placed her tit on her stomach and stood up. “Oh, she’s gone,” he said. He sounded disappointed.

  “Yeah, what a shame. Fucking excellent idea, though,” Mark said. “Steven? Fancy doing the honours?”

  The serrated breadknife lay on the blood-drenched plastic sheet just above her head. He picked it up and crouched down next to her face.

  Yep, she was definitely as dead as dead could be. The tape covering her mouth looked a little damp round the edges and tentatively, he peeled back the edge of it.

  Yellow vomit seeped out, mingling with the blood.

  “Reckon she choked to death on her own vomit,” he said softly.

  “Bummer,” Curly said. “I thought she just died of blood loss, or shock, or something. She probably would’ve gone on for longer otherwise.”

  “Yeah, well, let that be a lesson for next time. Steven? You ready?”

  “Yeah.”

  All of those beheading videos he had seen on the net sprang to mind. Now, of course, he recognised his grim fascination with them for what it really was. Blood-lust.

  Those videos had made it look so damn easy, like it was no more difficult than cubing a large chunk of steak. The reality proved quite different. He gripped her hair and sawed her throat, but it was tough going. He put his back into it, gripping the handle tightly and pushing down hard on the blade. He was beginning to make headway, so to speak, a yawning gap appearing in her throat. Instantly, it welled with blood, but it didn’t pump out anymore, seeing as her heart was no longer pushing blood around her body.

  Severing the spine was the worst bit and Curly stepped in to help him. Between them, they managed to twist her head free. Steven held it aloft and Mark filmed him. Steven giggled. What a sight he must look – a blood soaked clown holding a woman’s head by her blonde hair.

  Then he crouched down and tried to shove it in the gaping hole of her ruined vagina and anal passage. That too, proved more difficult than he gave it credit for. He managed to get the neck stump in, but it was nigh on impossible to get the lower half of her face in, too.

  “Leave it, that will do,” Mark said. “It looks pretty cool.”

  All three nodded. Steven had to admit, it did indeed look pretty cool. Her head was lying face-up, doing that one-eyed stare. Her tit on her stomach was also a nice touch and her jagged neck-stump was suitably disgusting.

  The four of them stood there in silence for a few minutes with Mark filming the body, admiring their night’s work. There was almost a reverential feel in the air, a feeling of accomplishment and comradeship.

  Mark stopped filming and placed the phone next to the TV. The rest of them drifted away from the body, the spell broken.

  Dairy and Curly unzipped their clown suits and stepped out of them. The contrast between the two men in their underwear was stark – Dairy so tall, buff and tanned, Curly so short, flabby and white. Mark did the same, and after a moment’s hesitation, Steven followed suit. He felt desperately self-conscious about his weedy body, especially next to his brother and Dairy.

  Still, at least I’m not as fat as Curly.

  “Right guys, let’s clean up. Maybe next time we should cover the furniture.”

  Steven looked around the room, a moment of doubt creeping into his heart. It was a fucking bloodbath in here. They would never get rid of the forensic evidence, no matter how hard they scrubbed.

  No murder means no investigation, remember?

  Dairy and Curly sprang into action, going into the kitchen to fetch binbags and cleaning products. Steven turned to follow them, but Mark called out to him, stopping him in his tracks.

  “We need to do something about her next door. I don’t trust her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Although he knew exactly what his brother meant; he wanted to make Julie their next target.

  “I didn’t like the way she looked at me tonight, like she knew what we were doin’. Plus she ain’t from round here, she don’t understand our rules. And anyway, she’s seriously fucking hot. Don’t tell me you ain’t thought about it. Don’t tell me you don’t wanna do her.”

  Truth be told, Steven wasn’t sure how he felt. On one hand, he was dying to get his mitts on her and make her scream, but on the other hand, she was just plain nice.

  She wasn’t so nice to you today, was she? She couldn’t get away from you fast enough…

  “I just think it’s a bit close to home, that’s all.”

  “If we don’t get rid of her, she’ll end up calling the fuzz.”

  “But what about her fella? He will call the police if his bird has gone missing.”

  “Not if the cunt’s dead.”

  Steven let his words sink in, his mind whirring with the implications of what his brother was saying.

  At some point during their conversation, Dairy and Curly had appeared in the room, armed with a bucket of hot, soapy water each and an arsenal of cleaning products. He thought how ridiculous they all looked, standing around in their underwear. They looked about as far removed from vicious killers as it was possible to get.

  I guess looks can be deceiving.

  “So what do ya say, bro? You want her, and she’s a liability.”

  His brother was actually asking him his opinion. So much had changed in the last few days.

  “Yeah, let’s do it, let’s have her. But what about the boyfriend?”

  A broad smile broke out on Mark’s face. “I told you, we’ll take him, too. Might be fun to have a bloke in our movies. Although I ain’t a faggot,” he hastily added. “Got nothing against shoving a few things up his ass though, so long as it ain’t my cock. Having him there might make the bitch more amenable, if you know what I mean.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” Curly piped up.

  “Shut the fuck up, me and Steven are talking,” Mark said.

  Curly pouted, but he didn’t say anymore. Steven was just about close to bursting with pride with the way his brother was now treating him. In that moment, it felt like he and his brother ruled the fucking world.

  “So, as I was saying,” Mark continued, “I was thinking that tomorrow I’m gonna kidnap the bitch. She’s been
working for six days straight, she’s gotta have a day off tomorrow. I’ll snatch her, and one of us will lie in wait in the house for the boyfriend to get home, then we’ll take him, too. Simple.”

  It dawned on him that his brother might have been planning this for longer, seeing as he seemed pretty well-versed in her work schedule.

  “I’ll help you tomorrow, then,” he said.

  “No, bro, you got college tomorrow. We gotta keep things as normal as possible, don’t want anyone getting’ suspicious, do we?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  Mark clapped his hands loudly together. “Well come on then, less blithering and more action, we got a shit load to do. Bodies to dump, houses to clean, movies to edit. Let’s get this freak show on the road.”

  The four of them got to work.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  It was unseasonably warm for March, and in the back-garden it had to be sixteen degrees at least. Julie sat on a plastic chair on the patio that overlooked the small patch of green, the back of her head resting against the kitchen window-sill. She sipped her coffee, wishing that Grant was here with her and not at work. Nowadays, they hardly ever seemed to get days off together as her shifts at the hospital were all over the place. Her gaze was involuntarily drawn to next door, and she shivered, despite the warmth of the morning. Part of her wanted to go back inside, to squirrel herself away and draw the curtains.

  But the other part of her told her that she was being stupid. Next door were rough, so what. That didn’t mean that she had to hide away, that she had to be a ghost in her own home. It was a sunny morning and if she wanted to sit outside then so she bloody well should. She had to put aside her weird feelings about last night. Because that’s all they were. Feelings. Nothing more, nothing less.