by Tim ORourke
Page 19
Marc clattered into me again. Both of us went sprawling across the room. I landed on my back and I could feel him on top of me, crushing my chest under his weight and forcing the air from my lungs. I released my claws and swiped frantically about in the dark. I could hear him woofing and howling above me. Knowing that I had to survive his attack, I thrust my hips upwards sharply, and threw him off me. I rolled onto my stomach. The torch was rolling casually back and forth on the floor, illuminating the area around it and my gun, which was nearby.
Dragging myself forward on my elbows, I headed towards the gun. I was within touching distance of it, when I felt him grab hold of my ankles, yanking me back towards him. I kicked out frantically with my legs, like a wild horse trying desperately to throw its rider.
I’m coming to get ya, coming to get ya…spitting out lyrics, homie, I’ll wet ya…!
Boom…Boom…Boom…the music continued all around us like a racing heartbeat.
I managed to work one of my legs free.
Twisting slightly, I spun my free leg around, swiping Marc’s legs from under him. He crashed to the floor. I reached out and grabbed my gun tightly – so tight I thought my knuckles would burst through my claws. I snatched up my torch with my free hand and shone the light directly into his wolf-like face. I could see it was covered in blood where I had slashed at it with my claws. A flap of skin swung from his right cheek like a strip of liver.
…Jump up, jump up and get down…
Jump…
“Shut-the-fuck-up!” I hissed, shooting at the CD player with my gun. The music came to an abrupt stop. The sudden silence was as deafening as the music had been only moments before.
I switched on the light, blinking in its sudden brightness. Marc lay sprawled out on the floor beneath me. His face no longer looked like that of a wolf. Marc’s nose looked broken from where I had smashed into it with my forehead. It looked bent, fat and twisted out of shape. Thick black clots of blood ran from both nostrils and into his mouth. I didn’t know if I looked as bad as he did, but my head felt as if it had been hit by a speeding train. My bottom lip was fat and swollen out of shape. I suspected I had at least one broken rib.
With a shaking hand, I pointed my gun at his head and said, “Where’s Pen?”
“Fuck-you!” he said, spitting a globule of blood up into my face.
It ran off the end of my nose. I wiped it away with the sleeve of my jacket.
“Stand up and turn away from me,” I ordered him, my gun aimed straight at his head.
Marc pulled himself slowly to his feet and turned his back to me.
“Put your hands behind your back, lock your fingers together, and lean forward,” I ordered.
He did as I said. Quickly, I holstered my gun and placed my handcuffs firmly on his wrists.
I took hold of the back of his shirt, shoving him across the living room and down onto the couch.
“What’s that?” he asked, as he watched me take the DVD from within my jacket.
“I dunno, let’s find out, shall we?” I said with a grim smile.
Chapter Twenty-One
Murphy
I switched on the TV and pushed the DVD into the player beneath it. I took a seat in the chair on the opposite side of the room. From here I could see the TV, but also keep an eye on Marc.
A set of wavy lines rolled across the screen to reveal a window of blackness. It stayed like this for a moment or two before an image flickered onto the screen. It was Pen’s bedroom, the viewpoint being the glass cabinet. Pen was lying on top of the bed and she was naked. She looked to be asleep, her hands folded beneath the side of her face like a pillow. Her white-blond hair spilled over her hands and her body looked pale and thin.
Then I saw Marc appear in the shot as he approached Pen, asleep on the bed. He stood and looked down at her, Pen unaware that he was there. I glanced over at him bent forward on the couch and he stared back at me. Then on the film, Marc began to slowly undress, removing his clothes as if they were an extra layer of skin, and letting them slowly slide to the floor. He then knelt on the bed and leant over Pen. Slowly he drew his long fingers along the length of her spine, from the base of her neck all the way down to her buttocks.
She stirred. I could see that in the video Marc was aroused. He then rolled Pen onto her back and climbed on top of her. It was then she woke.
“No! No! No!” she screamed.
To hear her terrified voice sent gooseflesh scampering all over my body.
“Shut your fucking mouth!” Marc roared back.
At once she tried to push Marc off and I could see by the look on her face that she was repulsed by him. Marc gripped hold of her shoulders and pinned her to the bed. Pen screamed out as she fought back, kicking out her legs as she squirmed beneath him.
“Get off me!” Pen screamed, her voice sounding like broken fingernails being drawn across a chalkboard.
“You were promised to me, you little bitch, and I’m gonna take what’s mine!” Marc growled as he forced his meaty thigh between Pen’s legs.
I snatched another quick look at Marc seated on the other side of the lounge and he looked coldly at what was unfolding before him on the TV. I looked back at the screen. Pen gripped hold of Marc’s back as he lay arched over her.
Her hands changed from long, slender fingers to huge, white claws. She raked them down his back, his skin splitting open like ripe fruit. Marc slung his head back and howled in pain.
“You fucking whore!” he barked, his bright yellow eyes spinning in their sockets. Pen took this opportunity to wriggle out from beneath him and climb from the bed. With much of her body know covered in a fine white fur, but still looking very much human, she ran around the edge of the bed. Marc shot out one long paw and knocked her flying backwards into the wall. The image shook violently on the screen. Pen howled in pain. Marc sprang from the bed. He too was now covered in fur, which was thick and dark.
“You were promised to me!” he woofed, as he loomed over Pen.
She lay at his feet, her legs drawn up to protect herself and her dignity.
“I’m not yours!” she screamed at him, her eyes wide and bright. “I don’t love you, I love another. ”
Marc recoiled as if slapped by an invisible hand. “Say his name! Say his name!” Marc roared, the long lengths of hair swinging wildly from the sides of his face and beneath his chin.
His giant paws swung by his fur-covered thighs.
“I love Jim Murphy and I always have!”
Pen screeched at him. “It’s him that I want – not you!”
“You want a filthy Vampyrus cop!” Marc howled in disgust. “You want to fuck a flea-infested bat?”
“I love him!” Pen screamed, waving her claws out before her as if to warn him off. To hear her scream those words crushed me. For I knew that I was in love with her, too – always had been, even though I had found love with another – Chloe. What caused me more pain than anything was the fact that I hadn’t been around to protect Pen.
Then Marc was on her, his arms and legs nothing more than a blur as he kicked and clawed at her. Jets of blood and chunks of her white fur splattered the floor, bed, and walls. Again, I looked over at Marc and he stared at me with indifference. I stared blankly back at the TV
screen, feeling numb and sick. Hot bile flushed into my mouth, but it didn’t sting as much as the tears, which streamed silently down my face. Pen stopped flailing her arms and legs about, as Marc placed his giant claws about her throat and squeezed. Pen’s eyes bulged hard and round in their sockets, her tongue jerking up and down at the corner of her mouth. Then she fell still.
I looked over at Marc and suddenly he looked ill. I doubted that he looked like this through remorse, but more likely because his crime had been caught on camera. I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I suddenly brought up the contents of my stomach. Hot sick shot from my mouth and
squirted out of my nose and splattered over the floor at my feet. I couldn’t believe – understand – how I had just watched the brutal murder of the person I loved.
On the TV screen, Marc got off Pen. He stood panting like a tired dog, his tongue lolling from the corner of his mouth. He then bent forward, and snatching up Pen’s lifeless body as if she was nothing more than a sack full of rubbish, he carried her from the room.
I wiped the sick from my lips with the back of my hand, pulled out my gun, and crossed the room. I stood before Marc and placed the end of the gun against his forehead.
“Go on then, shoot me,” he said without a note of fear in his voice. “Go on! Fucking shoot me!” he screamed.
I knew that I couldn’t – not now – not without a trial before the Elders. However much I wanted Marc dead – he had to be tried. That was what I had signed up for by carrying a police badge. If I killed him now, I became him. I became no better than a Lycanthrope. That’s why the Vampyrus were different – we lived by rules.
I wasn’t a mindless killer.
I looked into his eyes, and then holstered my weapon.
“No…I’m better than you,” I said coldly and dragged him to his feet.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Murphy
I pushed Marc down the porch steps and onto the drive. I followed close behind him. I felt numb and bewildered by what I had just seen. I still hadn’t fully comprehended that Pen was dead.
I forced Marc towards the treeline and turned on my torch as we made our way towards the wooded area. Then, suddenly there seemed little need for my torch. We were caught in the glare of the headlights of Steve’s truck as he drove it onto the driveway. Seeing this, Marc looked up and began to howl at his brother.
“Steve, he’s got me! He knows everything! Steve!”
I grabbed hold of Marc, his hands still cuffed behind his back, and forced him off the drive and in amongst the trees.
“Steve! Steve! Help me, Steve!” Marc continued to bark.
“Shut the fuck up!” I hissed, pushing and shoving him ahead of me. Again, I flipped off the torch and for the second time that night, I was staggering around blindly in the dark. I tried to head in a straight line, in the direction I had left my car. I looked back and could see torchlight bobbing about behind us.