Steph waved a hand. “Don’t worry. Just a bruise.”
“I’d feel better all the same.” Jess slid down onto the floor besides her.
Half-asleep, Old Graham murmured something from the floor. “Let the girl…have a…look.”
Steph sighed and leaned forward. “Fine, just keep your hands away. It hurts bad enough as it is.”
Jess leaned forward slowly and cringed at the sight of Steph’s bulging cheek. Her misty blue eye above the injury was bloodshot and teary. A second injury on her forehead seemed just as painful. A throbbing, aggressive bump that was already turning purple. “Jesus, you really took a whacking.”
“Think I fell against the toilet bowl. Don’t really remember much more than that. Someone came out of the dark and hit me.”
“You don’t remember anything at all?”
Steph sighed. “No.”
She went to move her head away, but Jess stopped her. “Hold on a sec.” She looked closer at the wound on Steph’s cheek, suddenly noticing something as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the cellar. It was something at the centre of the bruise, lighter in colour than the surrounding tissue. It formed a shape, maybe matching the surface of whatever had hit her. The outline seemed to resemble a…
…
Jess’ eyes went wide.
A dolphin.
The image was familiar and Jess scratched at her head while she tried to understand why. What could have hit Steph in the face that featured a small dolphin shape?
A ring with an engraving on it, maybe?
Jess’s breath caught in her throat at the realisation. “Holy shit! Nigel!”
”Did I hear someone say my name?” Nigel was walking down the stairs into the cellar.
Jess’s stomach cramped as she tried to think of something to say. All she could come up with was: “Hi, Nigel. Yeah, we were just talking about you. Steph just told me what nice guy you are.”
Nigel smiled at her. Jess finally understood what the expression was designed to disguise. It was indeed a mask.
Intended to hide a monster.
###
When Jess suddenly excused herself, Nigel had been concerned. Maybe his fumbled attempt at getting the girl to sit beside him had eroded the harmless veneer he worked so hard to maintain. It was possible that Jess had seen his true intentions.
Now, as Nigel entered the cellar, he wasn’t entirely sure. Jess certainly seemed jumpy at his presence but, considering the events of the last few hours, that was perhaps understandable. Steph seemed glad to see him, however, that much was clear; she’d smiled and waved a hand at him when he’d approached. It wasn’t surprising she trusted him. After all, he’d been working on gaining her confidence for the last eight months. As far as Steph was concerned, he was as harmless as a three-legged kitten with pneumonia.
Dumb whore.
It didn’t matter if Jess suspected anything. They were both just his prey now; more victims to add to his mental highlight-reel of rape and torture. He figured he had at least an hour to have fun with them before he’d have to slit their throats, stash the bodies, and take a finger for his collection (and that was only if Harry and the others managed to make it back from the supermarket without freezing to death). Even if they did come back he’d have a story ready for them (and his trusty flick knife ready in his pocket just in case they didn’t believe it).
“Everything okay?” Jess asked him, still not giving away whether or not she suspected anything. “Shouldn’t someone be watching Damien and Peter?”
Nigel nodded, trying his best to look solemn. An emotion he couldn’t actually feel at all, but one he felt he was adept at emulating. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, sweetheart. I think Peter’s waking up. I heard him say your name.”
Jess didn’t react for a moment and Nigel wondered how well his lie had gone down. Finally, she replied, but made no attempts to get up and join him. “That’s wonderful,” she said. “Great news.”
“Well,” said Nigel, offering out his hand, “you going to come see the poor lad or not? I’m sure you’re the first thing he’d like to wake up to.”
Jess shifted uncomfortably as if determined not to get up. Eventually she had no choice but to concede.
“You’re right,” she said. “Be right there. I just need to talk to Steph about something first. Girl problems, you know? So, did you want to meet me up there in five minutes or so?”
She’s trying to warn Steph, the little bitch!
Nigel closed his eyes and fought away the urge to rip the girl apart right there and then, tasting her wet insides as she gulped her dying breaths. He had to work real hard to control himself and keep his cool. He would be nowhere without his control. Far better to have fun once everyone was tied up and under his power. That way there could be no surprises and the party could really get started.
“I think you should probably come now,” Nigel suggested, keeping his voice soft so as not to alarm an unsuspecting Steph. “What if he doesn’t make it and this was his last chance to speak to you, Jess?”
Steph placed an arm around the girl, before frowning directly at him. “That’s a little bit harsh, Nigel. Let’s not condemn the poor boy just yet.”
“Thanks,” Jess replied.
“I do agree with him though, honey. You should go right away. Peter hasn’t been conscious much tonight and you wouldn’t want to miss out on anything he could tell us about what happened outside.”
Nigel grinned. That’s a good girl. Always so eager to help daddy, aren’t you? Just like when you knocked yourself out for me in the toilets.
Nigel reached his hand out further to Jess. “That’s what I was trying to say. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sure Peter’s going to be just fine, but right now he needs you.”
Jess looked like one of the cats Nigel used to strangle as a child (before he moved onto women and children). Trapped and terrifyingly aware that death was quickly approaching, yet powerless to do anything about it. The girl was afraid; the sight of it made Nigel’s cock throb. He liked it so much better when they knew it was coming. Love that look in their eyes.
Jess started getting up, ignoring Nigel’s outstretched hand and rising tentatively, as though she expected a strong wind to blow her over at any moment. Nigel moved back and waited patiently by the stairs for her. To his irritation, Jess instead turned to Steph and held out a hand. “Will you come with me?”
Don’t even try it! Just take what’s coming to you and stop making things hard.
Nigel was relieved when Steph shook her head. Jess seemed to deflate like a leaking balloon.
“I can’t,” Steph told her. “I need to stay here and look after Old Graham.”
“But he’s asleep,” said Jess, the pleading and desperation in her voice was clear to Nigel. But is it clear to Steph? Much to his dismay, Steph did indeed seem to pick up on the girl’s veiled pleas and was now staring at Jess as if trying to work her out. Nigel held his breath, waiting for the outcome.
“Okay,” said Steph. “I’ll come with you, but we’ll have to be quick.”
Damn it!
Nigel stood, irritated, as the two women huddled up and waited for him to lead on. It was obvious Steph had picked up on something in Jess’s tone, but he doubted she suspected anything specific, anything close to the truth. She knew something was up, but, as long as he didn’t leave the two of them alone, she wouldn’t figure out what until it was far far too late.
Nigel started to creep up the stairs, making sure the women followed. He kept his steps slow so that Jess couldn’t fall behind and whisper something to Steph without him hearing. When they reached the top, he stepped aside and ushered the women past him. From behind, he moved them into the candlelight of the bar and was immediately hit by the sub-zero temperature. It wasn’t even biting cold any longer, but a far deeper sensation that his very blood was turning to ice in his veins. “Come on,” he said, “let’s get over to the fire.”
The
women walked ahead and he kept close behind, rubbing his palms against his arms to try and generate some friction and heat – but the only thing getting him hot right now was watching Steph move. He thought about all the things that he could do to that sexy, slender body that would warm him up for the rest of the night. The only thing left to figure out was the best way to take Jess out of the picture. For now he’d let things play out and wait for an opportunity to present itself. The flick knife in his pocket made Nigel consider just stabbing the girl and being done with it, but that would be a waste. He had to have his fun with her first. If Steph was going to be the main course, then Jess would be dessert. I’ll eat her nipples as cherries, Nigel thought as he let slip an excited laugh. He quickly stifled it when the women looked at him.
“Something funny, Nigel?” Steph asked.
He quickly shook his head. “Just the craziness of tonight making me a little loopy. I get the giggles when I’m nervous.”
“And why would you be nervous?” Jess asked in a tone that he didn’t like at all. It was almost goading.
“Well,” he said, “there’s a lot to worry about tonight, isn’t there, sweetheart?”
Jess took a step backwards and was nodding as though she knew a punch-line to a joke that no one had told. Nigel felt his blood pressure rising as he fought the urge to rip into the girl and punish her insolence. She kept her eyes fixed on him as she continued stepping backwards. Steph was watching from a few feet away, visibly unsure of what was about to unfold. Nigel took steps of his own, keeping pace with Jess.
Like a predator stalking its prey.
“Or are you nervous,” Jess said, “because you lied about Peter being awake? Look at him, he’s still unconscious.”
Nigel grinned. Of course Peter was still unconscious; the kid was as good as dead. He looked down at the boy and had to stifle another laugh. Pity he isn’t awake. He could have watched while I had my way with his girlfriend.
Jess took another step backwards, placing herself up against the wall beside the fire. No more space to retreat. Nigel continued approaching.
You’re trapped now, bitch.
“Or,” Jess continued, “are you nervous because I know that you’re the one that tried to rape Steph?”
Nigel looked at Steph and watched the sudden shock wash over her. She took a sharp intake of breath. Jess’s revelation had sucked the wind out of him as well. He’d expected her to try and blow his cover, but the fact that she’d done right in front of Steph hurt him. Nigel hadn’t wanted Steph to know the truth about him until the very last moment.
Nothing to be done now though. Time to start ripping flesh.
Nigel lunged at Jess like a snake uncoiling. Such momentum did he have that he was powerless to change direction as the teenaged girl swung at him with the fire poker she’d somehow grabbed from its rack without him seeing.
The last thing Nigel thought as the steel rod arced towards his skull was…
Chapter Twenty-NINE
“You want another piece of me, huh? Well, if it’s Mortal Kombat you want then that’s exactly what you’re going to get, you cross-dressing freak.”
Harry managed to reach out and grab Jerry just before the lad ran off to his peril. “Hold it,” he said, clutching the boy by the collar.
Jerry struggled to get free. “Dude, not cool. Let go of me. Him and me have got a date with destiny.”
Harry shook the lad. “This isn’t Star Wars and that’s not Obi Wan Kenobi.”
Jerry looked outraged. “Obi Wan is one of the good guys, you dork!”
“Yeah,” said Harry, “I’m the dork.”
“Fellas, while I’d love to have a discussion on the many wee sides of the force, I think we should get going, pronto.”
Harry nodded to Lucas and then looked into the distance at the approaching figure. “Okay, let’s get back to the pub.”
Everyone agreed. They turned, ran…
…and stopped in their tracks.
“Holy shit!” Jerry cried out as ten foot flames exploded from the snow before them, cutting off any chance of escape. Harry felt the heat spread out in a wide semi-circle around them, leaving no place to go but towards the tall, hooded figure.
Jerry put his fists up. “Time we entered the Thunderdome.”
“You reckon we should fight?” Harry asked.
“You got a better idea?” Kath queried.
“Don’t suppose anybody has a fire extinguisher?” Lucas asked, fanning his hands against the fire behind them.
Harry took several steps forwards. It was probably a stupid idea. “What do you want from us?” he demanded. The hooded figure stopped moving, still too far buried by the blizzard for Harry to make them out clearly. Despite that, he could feel the stranger’s stare boring into him, digging out the corners of his soul. “I said, what do you want?”
Silence.
Then: “WE HAVE COME FOR…THE SINNER.”
Harry shook his head. What the hell is with this guy? Did he overdose on bible studies as a kid?
“Who exactly is the sinner?” he asked.
More silence.
Then: “YOU ARE, HARRY JOBSON.”
Harry fell down, for no other reason than his knees had ceased function. He flopped, face-first into the snow like an awkward clown, dreading he would never get up again. He was the sinner? He was the cause of this madman wreaking havoc tonight? It seemed insane, but…
He knows my secret; knows what I’ve done. He’s right…I am a sinner. But how did anybody ever find out?
“Come on, Harry Boy, time to go.” Lucas lifted him up, and at first Harry thought it was to turn him in to the hooded stranger, but it wasn’t. Lucas gained assistance from Jerry and the two of them dragged Harry through the snow, aiming for a small gap between the semi-circle of fire and the hooded figure. Harry had every confidence that Kath was not part of his attempted rescue, yet he could hear her crunching footfalls following beyond.
Trying to keep her safety in numbers.
“What are we doing?” Harry asked wearily as they dragged him along by the armpits. His legs trailed along behind him like boneless chickens and he felt dazed.
“Running for our lives,” said Lucas. “What in the blazes do you think?”
“The supermarket must be nearby,” said Jerry, struggling with Harry’s weight. “At least I hope so.”
“It is,” said Kath. “We’re here.”
Harry looked up to see the dim shape of a building present itself through the snow, only twenty yards away.
We’re going to make it…
Harry craned his neck to look back behind him, but his joints would not allow sufficient movement to see anything clearly. “Where is that…thing?”
Lucas and Jerry continued to drag him, their speed increasing as the sight of the supermarket spurned them on. Kath overtook them all and started searching her pockets frantically, no doubt for the building’s keys.
Harry repeated himself. “I said, where is it?”
They reached the supermarket’s locked fire door and dumped Harry down. Lucas stared down at him and offered his hand. “I don’t bloody know where it is. We lost it on our way here and I was in too much a hurry to keep looking back, so get up and get ready in case it comes back.”
Kath pulled her keys from her pocket and started sifting through them. “I can’t see a thing out here.”
Harry managed to stand, his legs solidifying from jelly to gradually-setting cement, not yet firm but getting there. He looked back in the direction they’d come from, and found his heart stopping in his chest. “You best hurry up and get us inside, Kath. I mean right NOW!”
Harry waited anxiously while the others turned and saw for themselves. Coming through the snow, with a steady and methodical purpose, was the hooded figure again; only this time, on either side of him, were others. Dozens, in fact. Their ghostly visages seemed to melt into the background of the thick, whirling blizzard that could have hidden an endless legion of the
m for all Harry knew.
Kath frantically tried keys on the lock. Lucas fell to his knees, muttering. Harry thought he heard the Irishman say something about ‘an army of Christ’, but there was no time to ask about it; the hooded figures were approaching. Urgently, Harry turned to Kath at the door. “How’s it going?” he asked her.
The chinking of keys. Kath fumbled with the lock. “I’m trying,” she said, sounding close to tears. “I’m sodding trying.”
As if things could get any worse, Harry heard a sound that chilled his blood several degrees beyond the ice that already flowed through it.
Growling.
The sound was so guttural that it could have emanated from a pack of rabid wolves. Or a dozen beasts from hell, thought Harry. Alongside the hooded figures appeared several other beast-like shapes, moving faster and more erratically than their two legged companions. They seemed like over-sized dogs, just as Jerry had described them. Harry wished he’d paid more attention
“It’s the hounds of hell,” said Jerry. “The ones I saw earlier with Jess. Believe me now?”
Harry clutched the chef’s knife tightly in his hand, but had a horrible feeling that it would prove to be as useful as a handful of wet spaghetti. “Jerry,” he said. “If we live through this then I will be the first in line to apologise for not believing you, but now’s not the time for humble pie.”
Jerry seemed buoyed by the vindication and actually began to smile. He moved over to Kath and picked up the baseball bat that she had propped against the supermarket’s door.
Lucas was still on his knees, but had stopped his incoherent rambling. He fixed his gaze on Jerry. “What the b’jaysus are you doing, lad?”
Jerry narrowed his eyes at the man. ”I’m getting even.”
With that, Jerry trudged through the snow at a speed that was as close to running as was probably possible given the terrain. He held the baseball bat high above his head as if it were a holy sword of Justice. The strange army of unearthly figures continued approaching, led by the more quickly moving ‘hounds of hell’. Jerry didn’t seem concerned by any of them and picked up speed.
Ultimate Supernatural Horror Box Set Page 143