The BIG Horror Pack 1

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The BIG Horror Pack 1 Page 58

by Iain Rob Wright


  Jess leaned forward slowly and cringed at the sight of Steph’s bulging cheek. Her misty blue eye was bloodshot and teary. A second injury on her forehead seemed just as painful. The throbbing bump that was already turning purple around the split in its centre. “Jesus, you really took a whacking, didn’t you?”

  Steph sighed. “Think I fell against the toilet bowl. Don’t really remember much more than that. Someone came out of the dark and hit me.”

  “Someone? You don’t remember anything at all?”

  “No. I just remember being hit.”

  Steph went to pull her head away, but Jess stopped her. “Hold on a sec. Let me look.” Jess examined the swollen gash on Steph’s cheek, and noticed something. Something at the centre of the bruising, a patch of skin lighter in colour than the surrounding tissue. It formed a shape, perhaps matching the surface of whatever had struck her. The outline seemed to resemble a…

  Jess’ eyes went wide.

  Her mouth gaped open.

  The mark resembled a dolphin.

  Jess scratched at her head while she tried to understand why she recognised the shape. It didn’t take her long. “Holy shit! Nigel!”

  “Did I hear someone say my name?” Nigel had reached the bottom of the stairs and was heading into the cellar.

  Jess’s stomach cramped up as she tried to think of something to say. “Oh…hi, Nigel. Yeah, we were just talking about you. Steph just told me what nice guy you are.”

  Nigel grinned like a hungry fox. Jess finally saw through the man’s disguise. His mask had slipped.

  And beneath lay a monster.

  ***

  When Jess had 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 walked down into 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, though. She smiled and waved a hand at him when he’d entered the cellar. 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 fucking whore.

  It didn’t matter if Jess suspected anything. They were both just his prey now; new 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 first. If they did make it back, Nigel would have a story all 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 said, “That’s wonderful. G-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 thing he’d like to wake up to.”

  Jess shifted uncomfortably, as if determined not to get up, but eventually she had no choice but to concede.

  “Be right there,” she said. “I just need to talk to Steph about something first. Girl problems, you know? Shall I see you up there in five minutes?”

  The girl knew.

  And she’s trying to warn Steph, the little bitch!

  Nigel closed his eyes and fought 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. Killing Jess now would just cause chaos.

  “I think you should probably come right 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 Jess and gave Nigel a scolding look. She’d pay for it later. “That’s a little bit harsh, Nigel,” she said. “Let’s not condemn the poor boy just yet.”

  “Thanks,” Jess replied.

  “I do agree with him though, honey,” Steph added. “You should go right away. Peter hasn’t been conscious much at all tonight and you wouldn’t want to miss out on anything he could tell us about what’s happening 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 towards Jess again. “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 rapidly approaching, yet powerless to do anything about it. The girl was afraid, and the sight of it made Nigel’s cock hard. He liked it so much better when they knew it was coming. Loved the look in their eyes.

  Jess started to get up, ignoring Nigel’s outstretched hand and rising tentatively on her own. Nigel moved away to give her space, waiting patiently at the bottom of the stairs. To his irritation, Jess instead turned to Steph and held out a hand. “Will you come with me? I’m not sure I’ll cope if Peter takes a turn for the worse.”

  Nigel clenched his jaw. Don’t even try it! Just take what’s coming to you and stop making things hard.

  Steph shook her head and Jess seemed to deflate like a leaking balloon. “I can’t. I need to stay here and look after Old Graham. You’ll be fine, don’t worry. I’m sure Peter will be fine.”

  “But Old Graham’s asleep,” said Jess, sounding desperate.

  To Nigel’s dismay, Steph seemed to pick up on the girl’s subtle pleas. She stared 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.”

  Nigel tapped his foot irritably as the two women huddled together and headed for the stairs. It was clear now that Steph had picked up on something in Jess’s tone, but Nigel doubted she had any idea of what was really going on. She wouldn’t figure out the truth until it was far, far too late.

  Nigel crept up the stairs, making sure the women were following close behind. 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, Nigel stepped aside and ushered the two women in front of him. He manoeuvred them into the candlelight of the bar and they re-entered the freezing lounge. It wasn’t even biting cold any longer, but a far deeper sensation, like his very blood was turning to ice in his veins. Ice seemed to cling to everything, and breathing felt like sucking in cold steel. “Come on,” he said top them, “let’s get over by that fire.”

  The women walked ahead and Nigel kept close behind, rubbing his palms against his arms to try to 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 a
n opportunity to present itself. The flick knife in his pocket made Nigel consider just stabbing the girl in the eye 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 yet. 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.

  “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. Pity he isn’t awake. He could have watched while I fuck 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 who 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 cobra striking. Over committed to attacking, he was powerless to change direction as the teenager swung at him with the fire poker she’d somehow managed to grab 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 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 unfinished biz’ness.”

  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 in a wide semi-circle around them, leaving no place to go but directly towards the robed figure.

  “Time to enter the Thunderdome, bitch,” Jerry snarled.

  “You reckon we should fight?” Harry asked everyone.

  “You got a better idea?” Jerry said, limbering up.

  “This is insane,” said Kath. “We need to run.”

  “Where?” asked Harry.

  “Don’t suppose anybody has a fire extinguisher?” Lucas asked, fanning his hands against the rising flames behind them.

  Harry took several steps forwards. It was probably a stupid idea. “What do you want from us?” he demanded of the stranger in the snow. The robed figure stopped moving, still buried too far inside the blizzard for Harry to make him out clearly. Despite that, he could feel the stranger’s stare boring into him, digging at 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 fuck 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 stumbled as his knees ceased functioning for a moment. Was he really the sinner? The cause of all of the havoc tonight? It seemed insane, but…

  He’s right…I am a sinner. But how did anybody ever find out?

  “Come on, Harry Boy, time to go.” Lucas grabbed him from behind. At first Harry thought it was to turn him over to the hooded stranger, but it wasn’t. Lucas and Jerry both dragged Harry backwards through the snow, heading through a small gap in the wall of fire.

  “What are we doing?” Harry asked wearily as they dragged him along by the armpits. His legs trailed in front of him uselessly.

  “Running for our lives,” said Lucas. “What 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 blizzard, only twenty yards ahead.

  They were going to make it.

  Lucas and Jerry continued to drag and pull him across the snow. Kath overtook them, searching her pockets frantically, no doubt for the building’s keys.

  Harry had a question, and he shouted it out. “Where’s the stranger? Where did he go?”

  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, but get up and be 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 turning 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’d best hurry up and get us inside, Kath. I mean right NOW!”

  Coming through the snow, with a steady and methodical purpose, was the hooded figure; but this time he was not alone. There were other robed strangers getting nearer. Dozens of them. Their ghostly visages melted into the background of the whirling blizzard and there could have been an endless legion of them out there for all Harry knew.

  Kath frantically tried her 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 robed strangers were approaching quickly, almost seeming to glide across the deep deep snow.

  “How’s it going?” Harry urgently asked Kath.

  “I’m trying,” she said, sounding close to tears. “I’m sodding trying.”

  As if things could get any worse, Harry heard something awful.

  Growling.

  The sound was so guttural that it might have emanated from a pack of rabid wolves. Alongside the army of strangers were a dozen beasts. They fit Jerry’s description of the creature that had attacked them. Giant dogs with innumerable teeth in their salivating jaws

  “Hell hounds,” said Jerry. “Just like the one that attacked me and Jess. Believe me now?”

  Harry clutched the chef’s knife tightly in his hand, but had a feeling it would prove useless. “Jerry,” he shouted
. “If we live through this, 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 to Kath and picked up the baseball bat she had propped against the supermarket’s door and hefted it over his shoulder.

  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. “I’m getting even.”

  With that, Jerry trudged through the snow at a speed as close to running as possible in the thick snow. 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 with their hell hounds. Jerry didn’t seem concerned by any of it as he picked up speed.

  “Jerry, get back here!” Harry shouted, but his words faded into the blizzard.

  What is that boy doing?

  Harry watched as Jerry came to a halt six feet in front of one of the giant dog-like beasts. He stuck out an arm and made a ‘bring it’ motion. “Let’s go, Cujo!”

  Jerry swung the baseball bat down over his head in a downwards arc. It connected with the bulbous skull of the hell hound. With a snarling whine, the beast collapsed sideways into the snow, which immediately begun to melt around it. Jerry swung the bat again, connecting a blow with the beast’s hindquarters, causing it to yowl in agony. Before he had chance to swing it again, the beast rose to its feet and fled.

  Jerry held the bat above his head and shouted triumphantly. “Flawless victory, motherfucker. Yeah, that’s what you get when you mess with the J-Meister.”

  Harry watched the surreal image of the spotty, teenage boy taking on a pack of hell beasts with a decrepit baseball bat and wondered whether he was stoned. Had his drinking progressed to drug-abuse and he was now lying somewhere, hallucinating the whole thing? It was a thought he would’ve liked to have held on to very much, but he knew it wasn’t true. They were all in great danger and none of this was imaginary. It wasn’t a movie.

  “Jerry! Get your arse back here, now!”

 

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