“Howard, I think that we should discuss this further. Are you going straight home once you’ve finished your lessons?” Kate asked. Howard nodded.
“Yep.” He replied.
“Well, would you like to come back to my house so that we can carry on with this chat? I could make you dinner or something.” Suggested Kate.
“That’d be really nice, Miss Williams. I’d appreciate that a lot.” Smiled Howard Trenton. Kate took a deep breath. I’m going to do it. I’m going to do it again. I can’t help myself. I don’t WANT to help myself.
“Good. Then meet me back here at four.” Instructed Kate. “Oh, and obviously, Howard… if you could be discrete…”
“Absolutely, Miss Williams, absolutely.” Replied Howard. He stood up. “I’ll see you at four then.”
“Have a good day, Howard.” Smiled Kate.
“Oh, I think that I will, Miss Williams.” Beamed Howard Trenton. “I think that I definitely will.”
Chapter Eleven
Howard lay behind Kate Williams on the bed. They were both naked. Howard rested the side of his head on Kate’s shoulder. His one arm was wrapped around her front, and he stroked his fingertips backwards and forwards over Kate’s large, hardened nipple. Howard’s other hand was further down, resting on the top of her thigh. Kate breathed deeply, rhythmically.
“Are you asleep, Miss Williams?” Whispered Howard. Kate didn't reply. Howard pulled his head back from off Kate’s shoulder. He looked down, towards his cock, that was gently pressed up against Kate’s backside. It had gone soft, and felt numb. Howard stared down at his dick in fascination. It’s still glistening, thought Howard, it’s still glistening with her juices, from where we made love. “Are you asleep, Miss Williams?” Howard repeated his question. Once again, Kate didn’t answer him. Howard Trenton took his hand from off Kate’s leg. He moved it towards his cock. Howard clutched at himself, easing his foreskin back, completely exposing the small pink dome underneath, which was sticky with semen. Howard wrapped his whole hand around the length of his dick, and began working the foreskin backwards and forwards, slowly. He felt his shaft begin to stiffen. Howard’s other hand squeezed at Kate’s breast. He closed his eyes, drifting back in time, to just under an hour ago, remembering what it was like to have Kate Williams fuck with him. Then Howard’s mind slipped much further back, recalling another occasion that was similar to the one he was sharing with Kate now. Sort of.
The woman couldn’t move. She tried, but the strange young man who lay behind her had his arms and legs wrapped around her body like tentacles. She felt him breath into her ear.
“Cold.” He whispered.
“Please don’t hurt me.” Sobbed the woman.
“Cold.” Repeated Howard Trenton, ignoring her plea.
“I don’t… I don’t understand…”
“Cold.” Said Howard. He tightened his grip on the woman, bony, but powerful arms squeezing across her chest. The woman began to struggle to breath.
“I can feel it now. I can feel the cold. It’s coming from you.” Said Howard. The woman winced in sudden pain; it felt like a large block of ice was being slowly dragged across the entire length of her naked body, working its way upwards. “It feels so good.” Howard continued. “This is how it should be. This is how it needs to be.” The woman’s body began to shiver. Her skin began to burn from the intense cold that was seemingly all around her.
“Please… you’re killing me.” The woman managed to utter, before drifting into the sanctuary of unconsciousness.’’
“I’m not killing you… this isn’t about death… it’s about life.” Said Howard. He put his head against the woman’s back, and listened to her take a long, deep breath, which suddenly turned into a stuttering rattle. Oh shit, thought Howard, and he pulled right away from the woman, alarmed.
Howard Trenton watched in horror as the woman who lay next to him began to convulse.
‘No! You’re not supposed to do that!” Said Howard. The woman’s whole body jerked violently. Howard rolled the woman onto her back. Her eyes were open, glazing over, and the woman’s mouth was agape, a thin line of spittle, mixed with blood, trickling from the corner of it. “No! You can’t die! This isn’t about dying, you silly fucking bitch!” Cursed Howard, panicking. He slapped the woman up the face, trying to bring her out of her unconsciousness. “Do you hear me?” Howard said, slapping the woman again. “You don’t die when we do this! People don’t die when they do this! It’s a good thing, it’s not bad!” He shouted. Howard grabbed the woman by her shoulders, and began to shake her. He felt tears welling in his eyes, and before he knew it, they were coursing down his sallow, bony cheeks. “Wake up!” Howard commanded. “Wake up! You mustn’t die!” He continued. The woman let out one, final, gurgled breath, and then the convulsing stopped. Howard realised straight away that she was dead. “No. NO!” Screamed Howard. He got to his feet, whilst all of the time staring back down at the middle-aged woman who he had just managed to kill. “What did I say? This isn’t about death! It’s about life! You’re not supposed to do this!” Cried Howard. He stumbled backwards, away from the woman, his bare feet sinking into the muddy soil of Wildbridge Hill. “You’re not supposed to do this…” Howard whispered, as he remembered the words of his late mother.
Whatever it was… and I’m telling you now, Howard, that thing wasn’t human… it gripped me from behind, wrapped it’s arms and legs… those thin, leathery arms and legs, right around my body, so that I couldn't move. I tried to call out, to someone, anyone, for help, but it felt like the creature was crushing my chest, and I could barely breath, let alone speak. I could feel the creature’s hot, stinking breath on the back of my neck. Then the creature ran its tongue across my shoulder; it felt rough, like sandpaper… just like how a cat’s tongue feels, except much larger. It was one of the most disgusting sensations I’ve ever experienced. I tried to scream, but no sound would come out. That’s when it happened. That’s when the creature… invaded me, impregnated me, but it didn’t happen in the, you know, ‘conventional sense’, Howard. This was on a completely different level altogether, and it’s still really difficult to explain… but I’ll try.
I suddenly felt cold, well, not just cold, but freezing. It was as if I had been submerged into a sea of ice. I could feel every single one of my nerve endings begin to burn with that terrible, icy cold. The creature… it was still behind me. It tightened its grip around my body, and then… it was as if its skin, that horrid, lumpy, leathered skin, was beginning to freeze, mesh, with mine, because of the intense cold. I wasn't capable of doing anything other than just lie there, on that hillside, completely trapped, with some fucking creature welded to my back. There was no… penetration. Oh, you know what I mean, Howard, you’re old enough to understand about these things… the creature didn't bury his dick in me, nothing like that happened. All I can remember is a sudden, sharp jolt, not down there, between my legs, you understand, but much further up, deep inside my womb. As I said though, the creature didn’t, you know, put anything up me. I might have been numb with the icy cold, but I wasn't that bloody numb. Then, after that jolt inside, which was almost like an electrical shock, I felt the creatures arms and legs loosen from around me, and it was as if I was then pulled from out of that sea of ice… my whole body warmed up, just a little, almost instantly. I rolled onto my back, gasping for air. Once I’d filled my lungs, I looked around, behind me, to see what had happened to the creature, and that’s when I saw it, properly, for the first time.
It’s hard to describe that thing, the creature that attacked me up on Wildbridge Hill, but I’ll do my best. When I turned and looked at it, the creature was already backing away from me. It was humanoid, but not bipedal, as far as I could tell; the creature moved from where it had left me using all four of its limbs. That seemed to be the creature’s natural method of motion, and it was fast, Howard, really fast. It’s face… well, all that I could really make out in the darkness was the creature’s eyes. They were yellow, and whe
n I say yellow, I don’t mean in a dazzling sort of way…. they didn't glow, or anything like that. No, the creatures eyes were just yellow, a drab, dull, shade of yellow, circled around a dark iris and pupil. I can still remember how those eyes gazed into mine as the creature backed away on all fours, slowly disappearing into the darkness. I can remember the sound that it made, too, its body rustling through the long grass; it was a little like the noise you hear when a strong wind blows through the branches and leaves of a tree. The creature… it vanished into a large patch of undergrowth nearby, and I could hear twigs and plants snapping under its weight as it moved along. Then there was just silence. I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t. I was still freezing cold. A ferociously sharp pain shot through my body, a pain so bad that it completely knocked me out, right there and then. The next thing I recall, Howard, is waking up, in an ambulance, with a paramedic, a woman, holding my hand…
Kate Williams woke up. She felt Howard Trenton’s hand on her, still clutched around her breast. She smiled. Kate became aware of a soft, rhythmic motion from behind her. She rolled onto her back, catching Howard unaware. Kate grinned.
“Are you messing around with yourself, Howard?” She asked. Howard could hardly deny it; he’d got his stiff cock in the palm of his hand. He blushed.
“I was thinking about what we did earlier.” He lied. Howard had been thinking about one of his earliest murders.
“Were you now?” Whispered Kate. She pulled up close to Howard, and Kate stroked her fingertips firstly across his chest, and then worked them slowly downwards. Kate gently prised Howard’s hand away from his dick, and then wrapped her own fingers around its length. “Would you like to do it again, Howard?” Kate wanted to know. She felt Howard’s cock throb.
“Yes, Miss Williams. I’d like that very much.” Replied Howard. Kate let go of Howard, and pushed herself up on the bed. She turned herself around, until she was on all fours, and then she raised her backside into the air, exposing her private parts to Howard.
“Come on then, Howard.” She said, eager to be fucked again. Howard got up, onto his knees, and moved across the bed, until he was backed up against Kate. He rubbed the end of his stiff cock up and down the length of Kate’s vagina a few times, and then he entered her. Kate let out a groan as she felt Howard sink into her. If only the rest of the college students could see us now, thought Kate, as Howard began to thrust his cock backwards and forwards inside her pussy…
Chapter Twelve
Howard Trenton stopped walking. In front of him, just outside Alfie Whitehouse’s home, were two police cars, together with an ambulance. A number of local residents were gathered outside, including Lucas and Kay. Howard swallowed hard, and his heartbeat picked up pace. He took a deep breath, then continued to walk up the road that he lived in, moving towards where his cousin was standing. Lucas noticed Howard, and broke from the small crowd.
“What’s going on, Lucas?” Asked Howard, feigning ignorance.
“It’s not good news, Howard.” Replied his cousin.
“Why, what’s happened?”
“It’s Alfie. His sister came around to see him today, because he hasn’t answered his phone for three or four days. She couldn’t get any response after knocking on his door, so she called the police in a panic. They had to break down the door to get in.” Lucas informed him.
“And?” Asked Howard.
“The police found Alfie upstairs, in bed. He’s dead, Howard. From what one of the paramedics have just told me, it looks like he died in his sleep…probably a heart attack.” Said Lucas. Howard put his hand to his mouth, play-acting.
“Oh no, that’s awful news. Poor Mister Whitehouse.” He responded.
“I know. Do you want to know something, Howard?” Asked Lucas.
“No, what?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if Alfie didn’t die from a broken heart, you know, because of Buttons going missing. He couldn't get over that cat disappearing. Every time that I spoke to Alfie about it, I could see that it was destroying him.” Confided Lucas. Howard smiled.
“They were best friends, weren't they?” He said.
“Yeah, they were that alright.” Agreed Lucas. Howard looked up, towards Alfie Whitehouse’s bedroom window, and grinned. Suddenly, for just a split-second, a figure appeared in the window, before disappearing again. This unsettled Howard, and the grin was wiped off his face in an instant.
Detective Tom Grogan moved away from Alfie Whitehouse’s bedroom window.
“Is everything okay, boss?” Asked Police Constable Neil Spears.
“Yeah… it was just some kid… anyway, I’ve finished up here, for now.” Said Tom.
“What do you think?” Asked Neil.
“You were right to call me out. Something’s definitely not right here. Do me a favour, Neil, radio through to the station, have them send some scene of crime boys over. I want some technicians down here as soon as possible.” Requested Tom.
“Yes sir, straight away.” Nodded Neil Spears.
“In the meantime, I’m going back downstairs. I want to check out that bathroom again.” Said Tom. He glanced over, towards the dead body of Alfie Whitehouse, before leaving the bedroom.
Tom Grogan bumped into one of his colleagues in the downstairs hallway.
“When was the last time that Mister Whitehouse was seen by the neighbours again?” He asked the young lady.
“The weekend, sir. At the very least, Mister Whitehouse was alive on Sunday afternoon, because he spoke to his sister on the telephone, according to her.” Replied the Police Constable. Tom stroked thoughtfully at his long, floppy moustache for a moment.
“Is Mrs Dunning still in the lounge?” Tom wanted to know.
“Yes sir.” Came the reply. Tom nodded.
“Go and keep her company… make her a brew. I’ll be wanting to chat with Mrs Dunning in a few minutes.” Said Tom.
“Yes sir.” Replied the Police Constable. Tom carried on through the hallway, into the kitchen. Beyond that, lay Alfie Whitehouse’s bathroom, which was of particular interest to Tom Grogan. He entered the small room, peering over the side of the bathtub, and there they were; a set of muddy footprints.
“Trainers. Those footprints came from a pair of trainers… soft hi-tops, yes, definitely soft hi-tops.” Said Tom Grogan, thinking out loud. “Not the sort of footwear that’d be worn by a seventy six year old man.” He added. No, those prints have come from footwear favoured by a youth. Someone maybe in their late teens, or early twenties… a bit like that weird-looking kid that was staring up and grinning at Alfie Whitehouse’s bedroom window a few minutes ago, thought Tom.
Tom Grogan knelt down, and inspected the footprints more closely.
There’s sand amongst that dried-up mud, he observed, quite a bit of it, too. Whoever found themselves with a reason to stand in Mr Whitehouse’s bath had visited the beach recently, Considered Tom. He walked out of the bathroom, back into the kitchen. Tom got down on his knees again.
“Well, what do you know. More footprints. Much harder to see, on this dark floor, but they’re here alright.” Tom rubbed the end of his finger over the top of one of the prints, dislodging just a tiny piece of dried-up dirt, that stuck to his fingertip. He brought the finger up close to his face. “Yep, whoever left these prints was the same person who stood in Alfie Whitehouse’s bath. Here’s that sand again.” Said Tom, inspecting the small, glass-like grains. I think there was an intruder in here… but why the fuck would they be standing in Alfie’s bath? Puzzled Tom. He stood up, and strolled back into the bathroom. Well, there’s a window above the bath… but it certainly couldn’t be an entry or exit point. You can only open the top part of it, and it’s way too small for anybody to climb in or out of. “Perhaps the intruder was disturbed by Mr Whitehouse… and so came in here to hide?” Said Tom to himself. Yes, but there’s nothing to hide behind… no shower, so no shower curtain. Why just stand there, upright, in the bath? It doesn't make any sense…
A few minu
tes later, Tom Grogan sat in the lounge of Alfie Whitehouse’s home, together with the late man’s extremely distressed sister.
“Does… did Alfie have any young relatives, Mrs Dunning? Young relatives that would come to visit him?” Tom was curious to know. Alfie’s sister shook her head.
No, definitely not.” She replied.
“What about friends? Did Alfie have any friends that might have a reason to be in his home? Say, someone in their teens, or early twenties?” Asked Tom.
“Good heavens, no. Alfie tended to keep himself to himself. If he was close with anyone of that age, I would definitely have known about it.” Answered Mrs Dunning. “Why are you asking me these questions, Mr Grogan?” She asked.
“I’ll be brutally honest with you, Mrs Dunning. I believe that somebody else might have been in this house at the time your brother died.” Tom confided. A look of shock fell across Mrs Dunning’s face.
“What? I don’t understand… the paramedic, she told me that it looked like Alfie had just had a heart attack in his sleep.” She replied, confused.
“Yes, it does look that way. On the surface. However, my colleagues called me out here because of several peculiarities that they noticed around your brother’s home.” Said Tom.
“I don’t understand… what do you mean by peculiarities?” Asked Mrs Dunning.
“Well, your brother appears to have some bruising, across the chest. Now, that could just be as a result of post-mortem changes to the body… it happens, sometimes, but until we carry out an autopsy…”
“An autopsy? You’re going to have to carry out an autopsy?” Said Mrs Dunning, visibly upset. Tom Grogan nodded.
“I’m afraid so.” He answered, softly.
Tom Grogan leaned forward a little in the armchair that he was seated on.
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