The Brutality Pack: An extreme horror collection

by Ian Woodhead

  Phil leaned between Dave and Amber and grabbed his drink from the bar. The lad paused to look down Amber’s top before draining the beer. “You know the plan, it’s food time now.” He dropped the glass on the floor. “We’re getting something to eat. I’m fucking starving. I could eat a dead horse sandwich.”

  Lisa giggled as if he had just told the funniest joke in the world. Dave forced his mouth into a resemblance of a smile and saw Amber doing the same.

  “Well, why don’t we check out that new Indian that’s just opened up off Jackson Road?” asked Amber. “I’ve heard that the food isn’t that bad in there, and it’s pretty cheap.”

  Dave nodded. “Oh, you mean the Kashmir Inn? Yeah, that sounds like a good idea, we haven’t been there either.” He smiled at Amber, pleased to see her smile back. Dave then noticed Lisa whisper into Phil’s ear, and they both smirked. He’d seen that look on Phil’s face before, and it usually meant trouble. He also found it disconcerting to see the same expression on the new girl’s face. Dave blinked and turned back to Amber. “We could do with checking it out.”

  “Since when did you like curries?” asked Lisa, sneering at her friend. She gazed up at Phil. “Don’t listen to that silly bitch, she’s just showing off. She always gets like this after a few lagers.”

  Dave moved closer to Amber, his hand instinctively found hers. He tried to swallow down his explosion of guilt for thinking with his cock a few minutes ago. He squeezed her hand, watching Phil eying up Lisa’s generous curves. It looked as if she’d spray painted that black dress onto her firm body. Oh, she was a vision to look at, but Dave now saw that beneath that luscious flesh; that bitch was just as bitter, twisted, and ugly as Phil.

  Phil shook his head and stared at Dave. “Are you two right in your head?” He looked as though he’d just swallowed a fly. Phil squeezed Lisa’s backside. “I want something real quick, like a pizza or a kebab.” He winked at Lisa. “Once I’ve stuff my face with some meat, I’ll then stuff my thick meat into you.”

  Phil was such a romantic individual.

  “Yeah, that’s what we can do. We’ll get some food and crash at Dave’s house for the night. His mum and dad have fucked off on their holiday for a couple of weeks. You don’t mind, do you, lad? I expect you’ll be glad for the company.”

  Dave reluctantly shook his head. There wasn’t a chance in hell that he’d dare say no to Phil. His libido wilted at the thought of just how much tidying up he’d have to do once he’d evicted Phil’s hungover form from his house in the morning. His friend wasn’t the tidiest of people. The last time he’d been over, Phil had walked into his dad’s garden shed and picked up a chisel, and then used the tool to carve his name into Dave’s bedroom wall. When Dave had confronted Phil, he had just shrugged and said that he was bored.

  Phil grabbed Lisa’s hand, and he put his other hand around the girl’s chin and pulled her mouth towards his. “You’re about to get the best jump in your fucking life. I’m so going to make you scream out my name, you little slag.”

  The girl giggled and placed her fingers between Phil’s legs. “I hope you can last longer than a few minutes.” She looked over at Dave. “Cos if you can’t, I’ll have to jump on his cock.”

  Dave felt himself go red.

  “That ain’t gonna happen,” growled Phil. “You’re mine, and I don’t share. I’m taking your parent’s bed, Dave.” Phil winked at him and then dragged Lisa across the dance floor, heading towards the exit.

  Amber put her hands around his waist and pulled him closer. “Don’t take any notice of Lisa. She’s had way too much, as per usual. The silly bitch will be asleep before your mate can get her in bed.”

  Dave chuckled. “That won’t bother Phil, he won’t care.”

  “You’re not like that, are you?”

  He shook his head. “No, I can state categorically that I’m nothing like him. Half the time I always end up apologising for the big goon.”

  She laughed. “It’s okay; I know exactly what you mean. Lisa is just like him. In fact, she’s probably a lot worse. You don’t want to know how bad she can be when the mood takes her.” She looked past him. “We’d better get a move those two are almost at the door.”

  Dave looked at the girl in a new light. He had just realised Amber was just like him, a hanger on. He held her hand while weaving through the crowds. This was just unreal. Why had he never bumped into Amber until now? Dave then saw that young teen pushing her large breasts into the face of her catch and felt so ashamed of his earlier behaviour. He hadn’t noticed Amber until now because he’d been too obsessed in emulating Phil’s desires.

  After all these years, had he actually found another human being who lived in this fucking dump that was actually pleasant?

  Chapter Three

  Only two ladies had ever held Kevin Long's affection, his mother (passed away ten years), and Lady Luck. Right now, Kevin believed that woman must have thought that the sun shined out of his rather large behind. He clamped his pudgy hand over his mouth. Lordy, he'd have sent his mother into an earlier grave if Kevin had ever brought home the feisty young girl who'd been attempting and failing to turn him on. It almost stopped her heart when he announced that the chances of her getting any grandkids from him was close to zero.

  At least she accepted his life choice, even if it did take her another five years. He closed his eyes for a moment, wishing he could stop thinking about his mum. Then again, he should know better, she crawled to the forefront of his mind whenever he became too excited or was about to do something very naughty, like what he intended to do to this girl.

  He moved his hand back down to its previous position of resting on his thigh, satisfied that the smirk had well and truly left him. This young thing was just what he'd been seeking for tonight. She ticked all the boxes and everything. He'd guessed that his perfect specimen couldn't have been older than seventeen. Experience suggested she could be even younger, probably an old looking fourteen. That smirk threatened to reappear. Experience was one quality that the tart did not possess. If she had, the dumb bitch would have seen him for what he was and run in the opposite direction when he sat next to her. Kevin frowned, thinking back to that moment, just twenty minutes ago. Come to think of it, the girl had made the first move. He shrugged. Whatever. The outcome would be the same.

  Kevin's inner radar had screamed at him when she had waltzed into the club. She wasn't a local, but he'd seen her around before and that meant she was fair game. What made the catch even sweeter was that the town's ambience had already infected the little cow. She might have had a belly full of fire, but now it was a raging furnace. No, her parents weren't going to miss this one.

  In fact, after watching her behaviour for the last half hour, he concluded that her parents would be glad to get rid of the fiery little bitch. Underage tarts like her disappeared every week in Brutality. The suggestion was that the girls and boys had run away, that they had all been sick of their small town and had fucked off to the larger cities like Birmingham or London in search of a new life. Most local townsfolk knew otherwise. There were a lot of people living in Brutality whose dark urges demanded satisfaction. It surprised him that she hadn't already been swiped; little miss tarty britches must have a guardian angel looking after her.

  Kevin couldn't help but to allow that smirk a little breathing room. Hell, he even let it turn into a grin. Her guardian angel wasn't around to keep her safe tonight. Knowing how Brutality worked, her guardian angel had probably been swiped, too, and was now having its celestial arse re-bored in one of Brutality's many alleys.

  His catch of tonight wouldn't be getting off with a casual rape. He sighed loudly—if she actually managed to get back to their table. Kevin had given the young girl a tenner and asked her to get a couple more drinks, suggesting that she’d be quicker getting served at the bar. Young girls with revealing outfits had a better chance than some middle-aged, slightly overweight, blond man who spent most of his life being ignored. No, there wa
sn't a chance in hell that he would be joining that crowd of pissed up thugs. One innocuous comment or accidental nudge, and he could end up on the dance floor, bleeding out from a knife wound.

  He then just happened to glance over to the other bar and sighed again. That one wasn't packed three deep with the ones at the front jostling the stressed out bar staff. Just his luck. Then again, why was he getting down? Kevin was still sat on his chair.

  Whereas large, hostile looking crowds (were there any other type of crowd in Brutality?) made Kevin, with good reason, very nervous, that girl obviously relished the challenge. She pushed and squeezed her body through gaps that weren’t even there. He would have tipped his hat if he wore one. Watching the girl move was like watching oil slipping through a cracked pipe. Those who didn’t move out of the way, ended up with the tip of her shoes in the back of their ankles.

  His worry meter pushed up a notch, hoping she wouldn't end up on that floor getting that firm little body stood on. After all, by now her guardian angel would be in tears, trying to pull her knickers up her bruised and muddy legs, backing into the corner while her attackers show her what else they were going to fuck her with.

  He almost stood up, intending to help her. “Are you right in your head, you big fat gay boy?” he muttered. He got to grips with his feelings, silently thanking the Gods he didn't believe in for allowing him to come to his senses. Kevin also thanked them for not allowing his mother to see him in that state.

  Kevin didn't need her guardian angel anyway. His other lady had obviously taken up that responsibility. “She is going to be fine. I should be pitying the people at the bar. Lordy, what an aggressive little vixen.”

  He waited until the crowd swallowed her body before turning back to gaze into his empty glass. Kevin found enough self-control to let a quiet giggle escape. His Anton was going to be so proud of him tonight. She was everything that he had stipulated. In fact, it was uncanny just how close this girl fit Anton’s template. He couldn't wait to get this one back to the apartment he shared with Anton.

  Would his gift make his boyfriend grateful enough for sex? Now that was the million-dollar question. Oh God, he fucking hoped so. It had been weeks since Anton had gone anywhere near his body.

  Anton was such an ungrateful pig. It so wasn’t fair. Just because Anton’s sex-drive had all but fizzled out, it didn’t mean that Kevin’s had vanished as well. At fifty-six, his boyfriend was Kevin’s senior by almost twenty years. The older man often boasted that when he was Kevin’s age his sex-drive was in full gear, and he went through dozens of hot men every month. Whether or not his past exploits was true didn’t enter the argument. What pissed off Kevin was that he would have liked more than the single unenthusiastic fuck every blue moon. Was that too much to ask for? It's ironic to consider that there were occasions when he felt like the older of the couple; heck, he even thought of himself as middle-aged. How could anyone be middle-aged at thirty-six? Then again, just how many males went off sex at fifty-six?

  “Oh crap, are you missing out on the fucking obvious?” his mouth dried up when his mind lurched into paranoia mode yet again and sowed his unwanted images of some strapping six four, muscle-bound gorgeous hunk on his knees, thrusting his tongue deep into Anton's backside. That just made it even worse. The last few time they did make love, Anton fucked him, and he insisted on going in dry. “Stop it, Kevin, just stop it.”

  He opened his eyes and watched some meathead on the other end of the club trying to eat some blonde girl’s face. Kevin thrust all those insecure thoughts into a box and locked it. He was being silly, and he knew it. Such a thing was just not possible. Despite the man’s peculiar egocentricities, Anton loved Kevin. Plus the fact that Brutality’s gay community was very small. It wouldn’t take long for the news to leek out that Anton had found another man.

  Kevin also knew that nobody else in town would be able to cope with his boyfriend’s violent and unpredictable mood swings and his shocking temper. As for his needs, even for Brutality, Anton’s urges were rather unusual. Kevin went out of his way to ensure that he fulfilled his boyfriend’s cravings. He sighed, if only Anton would reciprocate.

  “I need to be harder with him,” he said, giggling. Not quite to show him who is boss, but he was sure that he could work out some sort of deal. These weeks without sex were really fraying his nerves.

  Little miss jail-bait was returning from the bar, holding the drinks. He wondered if he could plea bargain with Anton and tell him that he wasn’t getting her until Anton gave him a blow-job. Kevin couldn't remember the last time his boyfriend pleasured him. It was ironic to think that the young tart over there was actually thinking that he was going to let her suck his dick. Judging from tonight's shocking behaviour, Kevin would be willing to bet his last pay packet on that girl being able to suck an apple through a tennis racquet.

  His last pay packet was already spoken for though. He'd used that to mentally bet that she predicted her amateurish catwalk in a full-length mirror nightly, right before mummy tucked her up in bed with her teddy bears. Why hadn't anyone informed her that walking like that just made it look as though you were suffering from piles? She really did look ridiculous.

  She caught him staring and gave Kevin a seductive wink. Kevin winked back. Oh God, he felt his erection softening at the very thought of that child going anywhere near his downstairs equipment.

  “So, I see you did manage to get served.”

  The girl placed Kevin’s lager down on the table in front of his hand. She took a noisy slurp of her own drink before putting it down next to his. Kevin gazed in revulsion at the bright green concoction. He decided against asking her what was in it. Hell, the dizzy girl probably didn’t know herself and only chose it because she thought the colour went with her eyes. Her stomach would love her in the morning.

  Kevin had to turn his head quickly and tried to swallow down the lager to stop him from choking. The poor brat was unlikely to see the next dawn, depending on how excited Anton got tonight.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded, pouting. “Of course I got served, you cheeky bastard. How many times do I have to explain to you that I’m eighteen?”

  Kevin took another sip of the vile liquid that bore a passing resemblance to lager and sighed. He couldn’t be bothered explaining that he meant about all those people queuing up in front of the bar. There was no point.

  She sat down on his lap and giggled before slowly leaning over to reach her own drink. Kevin’s nose was just millimetres away from her generous cleavage.

  “Here, are you trying to look down my top?” She giggled again. “You are, you dirty old bastard.” She stared into Kevin’s eyes. “Is it really true about what they say about older men?”

  “What do they say about older men?” He suddenly realised that he had forgotten her name.

  “I mean about you lot being far more experienced and stuff. I mean, it sorta makes sense doesn’t it. You’ve had a load more years to practice.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “We all know that practice makes perfect.”

  She slurped down some more of her green goo. Kevin had noticed that the little cow had neglected to give him his change. The girl then wrapped her cold fingers around his wrist and placed his hand on her thigh.

  “I can tell that you like that, Kevin. Just feel the dress, don’t be shy. Ain’t it really tight, smooth, and slippery? I’m telling you, it’s almost like being naked.” She sighed. “You have no idea how easy it is to slip out of this dress.”

  Oh Jesus, he needed to get this little nympho out of this club and into the back of his van as soon as possible. If she carried on like this, she’d end up raping him right here and now. She flung her slender arms tight around his neck and pressed her hot body against his chest.

  The scent of the girl’s sweet perfume filled his nostrils, forcing Kevin to breathe through his mouth. What had she done, taken a bath in the stuff? He might have forgiven her if it was an expensive brand, but judging from th
e way it was burning his nostril hairs, Kevin guessed that her dad had bought some knock off stuff from some dodgy bloke from the market.

  “Oh Kevin, I’m so hot,” she murmured into his ear. “Would you like to take me somewhere a little cooler?”

  He prised her off his face just in time to see the meathead and a pretty blonde girl walk past them.

  “Hey there, big tits, do you fancy a threesome?”

  The girl smacked the meathead on the arm. “Fuck off, Phil. I ain’t sharing you with anyone, especially with some twelve-year-old prostitute.”

  Kevin pulled the girl back into his embrace and kissed her. He had no choice; the little demon would have launched herself at the other girl otherwise. “I have a big van parked out in the carpark,” he said, pulling away from her lips. “It’s decked out with all the latest mod cons.”

  She waited for the blonde girl to leave the club before turning back to face Kevin. “Even a bed?”

  He nodded. “Oh yes, even a bed.”

  “Ain’t you the dark horse!” she said, chuckling. “I’d have never guessed it, looking at you. It just goes to show that looks are deceiving.”

  The girl got that right. Hell, nearly all the locals led double lives. Learning to cover up your secret desires and urges was something they all learned at an early age. Kevin briefly wondered if the girl had any dark desires. Not that he really cared. The girl would be dead soon anyway, and her life, for what it was, would soon be over.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Kevin hadn’t realised that he was smiling. He kissed her softly. “I’m just happy that I’ve met you, that’s all.” His sudden response surprised the hell out of him, it almost sounded like he meant his words. He put that down to nerves. He always got like this when he was ready to take it to the next stage. Those nerves were all Anton’s bloody fault. He got Kevin so wound up just before he set off in the van.

  Anton made Kevin go through the inventory four times before he allowed Kevin to drive off. Did he have the Gaffa tape? Don’t forget the drugs and the syringe. Do you have enough plastic sheeting?