Asylum - 13 Tales of Terror

by Matt Drabble

  “DRIVE, DRIVE!” She screamed hysterically, “QUICKLY THEY’RE COMING!”

  “Now hold on Miss,” Julian started, unwilling to have orders barked at him by a complete stranger.

  She suddenly stamped hard on his foot and the accelerator roared into life. She reached over and hit the lever into drive and the car lurched drunkenly forward.

  “Hey now!” Julian said striving to regain control as the car drove the wrong way.

  “We have to go, we have to go,” the woman yelled hysterically, “They’re coming, they’re coming.”

  “Who’s coming? Just what exactly is going on here?” Julian snapped. Despite the woman’s obvious distress, his own was greater as the plan wavered yet further and his stomach churned at this latest interruption.

  He shoved the woman away from him and stopped the car in a skidding halt.

  “I’ve just about had enough of this young lady. You run out in front of my car in the middle of the night half dressed, shouting and screaming at me; you leap into my car and attempt some sort of hijack. I won’t have it, do you hear me? I just won’t have it.”

  “Please,” she sobbed, “Please.”

  “Now we are going to sit here and you are going to explain to me just what exactly is going on.” He turned off the ignition and sat back pleased with his successful wrestle back of control. There was only one way to do things in this world as far as he was concerned, and that was his way.

  Just then powerful spotlights burst from the woods and several dark silhouettes staggered out onto the road. The woman screamed as soon as she saw them.

  “They’re here, they’ve found me,” she sobbed.

  Julian flipped the headlights onto full beam and opened the car door. He stood out into the cold night and peered towards the now approaching figures. His ordered mind relaxed as the light picked up a dark uniform of some kind of British authority.

  “Now perhaps we can get to the bottom of this,” he said thankfully. “Over here officers,” he waved.

  He looked back into the car; the woman was mewing softly, shaking, and rocking gently as she hugged herself. She must be a criminal on the run perhaps, he thought, although she does look like she has been through some terrible ordeal judging by the state of her, he puzzled. No matter, the authorities would take over now and he could be on his way and back to the plan. He could even get some expert directions now, he cheered himself.

  A crack and a flash of light exploded in the clear night and he was puzzled as a waft of air passed by his face. A second and a third noise echoed out and suddenly he felt a powerful punch to his shoulder; there was a split second before the monstrous pain exploded. I’ve been shot, he marveled, they’re shooting at me. Why are they shooting? He tried to shout but his breath was taken from him. More small cracks lit up the night, and one clanged against the car’s metal side leaving a nasty scratch along the trail. He was trying to remember if he had taken out the full insurance policy with the rental company when small claw-like hands were dragging him back into the car. The woman dragged him across into the passenger seat and climbed over him into the driver’s. She started the engine just as the men were running towards them. The shots got closer and more accurate as the men closed the distance, and the car was suddenly peppered with gunfire. The back window blew out and she screamed. She stuck the car in reverse and floored it as the shots exploded around them. As the distance increased they began to drift out of range again.

  Julian looked out of the front window as they reversed at great speed away from danger and the dark figures began to disappear into the gloom. “What the hell is going on?” He spluttered through gritted teeth against the pain from his shoulder wound.

  The woman was still concentrating hard as she drove silently backwards; her face was a mask of sweaty effort.

  “I asked you a question young lady,” he snapped.

  The woman stamped hard on the breaks and the car slid to a stop; she executed a clumsy three point turn around in the road. As soon as they were facing away from her pursuers she stepped hard on the accelerator again.

  Julian sagged in his seat; he could feel blood seeping through his shoulder and into his expensive suit. His biggest current concern was suddenly just how he would ever manage to get his clothes cleaned properly. Tiredness and shock were on the march as the car ate up the road before them. His eyes drooped again and his mind drifted as the machine spluttered, unable to deal with the violent turn of events.

  The explosion of pain woke him from his slumber; one minute he had been drifting warmly through a deep sleep and the next he was bolt upright, and a scream was vomiting from his mouth and scorching his lungs.

  “Sorry,” the woman mumbled as she cleaned his wound.

  He found himself topless and blood soaked down one wounded arm. He risked a glance towards the small hole in his shoulder and his stomach lurched in protest.

  “Don’t look,” the woman offered weakly.

  She was pouring water into the injury and wiping the blood away with part of his now shredded shirt.

  “There’s a bottle of whisky in the trunk,” he said through a pinched expression.

  The woman only looked at him with a puzzled face.

  “The boot,” he said remembering the colloquialism. “The alcohol should help to disinfect the wound,” he said hoping that the movies were right. The expensive bottle of whisky had been a gift for the new manager in Dartford. His mind was already wondering just how he was going to make the meeting on time to get back on plan.

  The woman quickly retrieved the bottle and also brought a sweatshirt from his case in the rear of the rental.

  “Who were those men?” He asked again, a little more gently.

  “I don’t know,” the woman said quietly, “William, my husband and I were travelling through here when they stopped us,” she began crying softly at the mention of her spouse.

  “What did they do?” Julian asked, looking at her torn clothing and fearing the answer.

  “They flagged us down with flares. One of the men said that there had been an accident up ahead so we pulled over. They were as nice as pie at first, chatting away all friendly enough. One of them, a big bastard, just kept staring at me; he was starting to give me the right creeps. Then some bloke who seemed to be in charge called William over; he went, and then they killed him.” A great sob wrenched free from her chest, “They just shot him through the head at close range. So much blood, so much blood,” she sobbed.

  “But aren’t they the police or something?” Julian asked incredulously.

  “They’re bastards, every last one of them,” she spat.

  “How did you get away?”

  “Oh they had other plans for me,” she sneered venomously, “I was…, I was assaulted.”

  Julian didn’t need to ask in what manner; the look of her torn clothing made it evident enough.

  He took a sharp intake of breath as the woman fashioned an awkward dressing from the car’s first aid kit and stuck it onto his wounded shoulder. He quickly pulled on his sweatshirt; glad of the warmth against the cold night, but still slightly aggrieved and unsettled by his badly matching outfit.

  “I don’t know your name my dear,” he suddenly thought to ask.

  “Gemma, Gemma King,” she said sadly as though the married surname was yet another reminder as to her loss.

  “Look, I think that the best thing to do in these circumstances is for us to find some more appropriate help,” Julian stated firmly. “Let me try my phone,” he said as he searched the glove box for his mobile.

  “It won’t do any good; we were trying earlier this afternoon. There’s no signal out here,” Gemma said glumly.

  “Well I’ll try again and we’ll see,” Julian took his cell phone and was disappointed to find that the small illuminated screen mocked him with no signal bars. He cursed yet another object that could not fulfill its simple base function. “Do you know where we are?” He had to annoyingly ask.

 
; “No, we were already lost when those bastards stopped us. They took me off somewhere in the woods, and since I managed to escape I could’ve been running in circles for all I know.”

  “How did you manage to escape?” he probed gently.

  “They left me alone with just one guard, when he, you know…, finished,” she looked at the floor embarrassed, “He fell asleep. I had to cuddle him and stroke his goddamned hair but eventually he started snoring,” she spat angrily.

  Julian watched the poor girl as she spoke of horrors endured and remembered.

  “I managed to sneak his keys off of his belt and slip out. I had no idea where I was, or where I was going, but I just kept running. I kept running until I couldn’t run anymore, and then I heard them coming. They were crashing through the woods like a herd of wild elephants, shouting and screaming after me. Suddenly by the grace of God I stumbled onto the road and you found me.”

  “Well, this is a road,” he said looking ahead, “And all roads lead to somewhere. I’m sure that we will come to civilization sooner or later. We will be able to contact the authorities and I will be able to make some important calls of my own,” he said thinking of the plan - always the plan.

  The road stretching before them was pitch black; there was no lighting of any kind, no streetlights or even cat’s eyes. There was just a faded white line along the centre of the lonely road. Julian looked depressingly into the thick woodland that surrounded them. He could see no building lights of any kind through the dark trees and despite his passenger, he had never felt quite so alone.

  The darkness behind them suddenly exploded into life as full beam headlights rounded the bend.

  “Oh good,” Julian said relieved to find help.

  “Oh God,” moaned Gemma.

  “It’s help,” Julian said hopefully.

  “It’s them,” Gemma stated.

  The flashing and rolling blue and red lights of the pursuing car proved Gemma right and the still night was suddenly shattered by the piercing wail of a siren.

  Gemma fumbled with the car keys that thankfully and expediently still hung from the ignition. She started the rental at the second attempt and cranked the automatic transmission into drive.

  Julian was flung back painfully into the passenger seat as the car leapt forward; gravel was flung furiously into the air as they roared away from their pursuers. He desperately fumbled with his seatbelt as Gemma drove feverishly; her face was a mask of terrified desperation and concentration. He risked a glance back over his shoulder; the powerful following car was closing the gap quickly. He ran a quick calculation in his head and could immediately tell that they were no match for the vastly superior vehicle. His mind rebelled at his predicament; he could already tell by looking at the digital clock that he would be unlikely to make his appointment in Dartford. It wasn’t death that he feared the most, it was slipping from the plan. He looked down at his scuffed and muddy shoes. His trousers were stained from his own dripping blood and his casual sweatshirt mocked him with its mismatched styling.

  The car suddenly leapt on them. It accelerated, smashing into their rear; metal screeched in protest as they swerved dangerously. Gemma fought for control as they sashayed across both lanes of the narrow road. She managed through great effort and no little luck to get them straight again. The car lurched with one last defiant shot before obeying.

  Julian glanced around desperately searching for inspiration. The road was long and direct and there were no buildings, cars or witnesses to be seen. There were no turnoffs that he could see anywhere; only the dark ominous woods.

  The headlights behind them leapt again and Julian knew that their luck could not possibly hold a second time, his fears were founded. The rear corner of their rental was clipped as the vehicle behind attempted a “fishtail” stopping technique that Julian had once seen on a TV show. The car pulled up alongside the rear corner of their car; it then turned into them. The rental attempted to maintain its traction as the vehicle continued to steer into them but it was no match for their more powerful adversary. Julian felt them begin to spin and knew that they were lost. Gemma wrestled manfully with the steering wheel but the end was inevitable. The rental car spun and skidded around. Julian’s stomach heaved with the motion. Metal screamed and crunched and Julian knew that they would eventually come to a controlled stop. For once he attempted to run from control and embrace the chaos.

  “HOLD ON!” He yelled to Gemma and wrenched up the handbrake. The impact was instant and terrifying as the car shrieked and squealed. The odour of burnt rubber and failing break disks filled the air and the car flipped over and rolled. Julian was dimly aware that he was tumbling through the air; all sense of control and order lost as his world spun madly. The headlights shattered under the crash and the black night invaded the car’s interior as they eventually shuddered to a halt.

  The next thing he knew was when he felt himself being pulled; the pain from his shoulder wound waking him from his unconscious slumber. He felt his back being shredded by broken glass as he was dragged free of the car. His sweatshirt had rucked up and exposed his flesh to the painful shards. His mind reached for a grip as to his whereabouts; he had been travelling to an important meeting, but he had been delayed by the incompetents of the world. He remembered driving through the night, and then…, and then the girl; he suddenly remembered the girl. He looked up through his spotty vision to see Gemma pulling him desperately through her own pain. Her face was a crimson mask as blood flowed from a scalp wound that looked serious. Her already battered body had gone another ten rounds in the crash.

  “You alive?” She panted.

  “I think so,” he mumbled through a swollen mouth.

  “Then get up, I can’t drag you all the way,” she snapped.

  Julian heaved himself drunkenly back to his feet. He swayed unsteadily and his vision swam for a moment or two before kicking in. Back on the clock, he thought. Back on the plan, he demanded of himself.

  He turned and looked back towards the twisted mess on the road; both cars were now twisted carcasses, joined together in an eternal burning embrace. He could see a blackened roasted arm sticking through the window of what had been the pursuing car. Scorched flesh hung loosely in flaps like fried chicken skin and his stomach lurched violently.

  “Are they…?” He asked through a lump in his throat.

  “No-one has left their car; I ventured a closer look while you were out and before the fire started. I could see two bodies in there. Both looked dead to me.”

  Julian looked towards her as the spite fell from her mouth; he could guess that she wished there had been more bloated and roasted bodies inside.

  “Where do we…?” was as far as he got before the night was once again shattered by another approaching siren’s wail.

  “Quick,” Gemma said as she grabbed his arm with adrenaline fuelled strength and pulled him towards the woods. “We have to go, they’re still coming. There were more than two of them and they’re going to be pissed when they find their fried buddies here.”

  Julian staggered after her as they crashed through the dark trees; wet dewy branches slapped him viciously across the face, blinding him with painful scratches. He ran clumsily with only her back for guidance. Thick undergrowth tore at his trousers and attempted to snag his feet and hinder. He ran with his head down and one hand up to protect his face. He ran until his lungs screamed in protest and his heart fluttered worryingly. He panted and sweated; his legs burned with the unusual effort and he thought that he would faint. Eventually Gemma stopped and he ran into the back of her. The impact was hard and sent him spinning to the muddy ground.

  “Over there,” she hissed pointing.

  Julian dragged himself up to his feet and followed her arm. Through the trees he could see a clearing and a small wooden cabin sitting dark and seemingly deserted.

  “Come on,” she said without waiting for him.

  He stumbled out into the clearing after her, “Wait,” he whispere
d, hating to stumble around without a plan; his ordered mind still forcibly demanded structure. “We can’t just wander blindly up to a stranger’s door. What if they’re like those guys who chased us? We don’t even know who lives here.”

  “Oh I know all right,” she said in a strange cold voice, “They do. This is where they brought me.”

  Julian stopped suddenly, “Then what the hell are we doing here? We should be running in the opposite direction,” he snapped as quietly as he could.

  “We are going to kill them all for what they did to me,” she growled in a low and primal voice. “For what they did to William.”

  Julian wanted to turn and run but the woods were dark and he had no idea in what direction to flee. He turned to reason with Gemma but he was scared to find that she had already reached the cabin and was skulking around towards the side window. He hurried after her, not wanting to be left alone and vulnerable in the open. He quickly joined her and grabbed her arm. “What are you doing?” He hissed.

  She turned to him and he felt a cold metallic object thrust into his hand. He looked down and saw a glinting smooth revolver.

  “Where did you get this?” He whispered.

  “From their car. I managed to reach in and take it before the fire.”

  “But I don’t even know how to fire a gun.”

  “You’re American aren’t you?” She asked softly.

  “That doesn’t mean that I know anything about guns,” he said realizing that stereotypes apparently worked both ways across the pond.

  “It’s simple,” she said taking back the gun and showing him, “Safety off like this, cock it by pulling the hammer back like this, and now you’re set,” she handed him back the weapon.

  Julian hefted the weight; somehow reassured by the solidness of the revolver. A simple piece of machinery; one function and one purpose. Point, shoot, kill. His rational mind finally felt something that it could get on-board with.

  He followed Gemma as she slipped alongside the wooden walls; the cabin was dark inside and seemed empty. They both crept to the window at the side and peered inside with hands cupped. There was no movement; no tell-tale shadows, the lights were off, and the fireplace devoid of flame.