by Richard Lee
“Turn it on,” Michael said. “See what’s running in there.”
Penny took the video camera from Josh as he set the computer on the table. “I’m gonna explore some more,” she said. “Let you boys play with your toys.”
“Be careful,” Rachael cautioned Josh. “Don’t wipe anything and put it back exactly where you found it.”
“Yes, Mom,” he joked.
Rachael didn’t laugh. Something was seriously wrong in this house. It was black. Everything was black. The walls, sofa, counter were all black, only not the same black. Different shades of black pulsed through the room. She realized the blackness was the darkness. Yet the room was very bright from the open windows lining the sidewall. The sun shines directly in here all day, she thought. Wish my house did that.
Penny screamed. Repeatedly.
They found her in the bedroom. She was slumped against the wall, the video camera lying on the floor.
Ami gasped, choked on the smell, which seemed to come from everywhere, and vomited. It splattered the wall and carpet as she fell to her knees.
Everyone except Rachael turned away from the sight. Eric helped Ami, taking her from the room. He was patting the back of her head. Josh had left the room quickly as Michael tried to calm the now whimpering Penny Lacort.
Rachael had never seen anything like this. It looked like a black market horror movie she sometimes received in her email junk box and had tended to watch.
The girl was lying across the bed. Her head dangled off the side, exposing a deep slice across her throat. Blood covered her body and the bed sheets. She was naked, with one arm dangling the wrong way to the floor.
Michael had managed to relax Penny, her whimpers and cries had finally ceased. Rachael checked behind her. Penny had her knees up to her chest and was hugging herself, completely unaware that Michael was able to see up her skirt. Knowing Michael, the thought most likely hadn’t entered his head. His hands were on hers and he was speaking softly.
Rachael couldn’t hear his words, only the comforting tone they carried. It surprised her. She was learning a lot of things about her team-mates during this unexpected time tour.
She edged closer to the dead lady on the bed. Her steps were slow and her feet dragged against the carpet. She picked up the video camera and filmed the scene. She could see something under the fallen part of the bed sheet. Only an inch or so of it showed in the video screen.
Rachael didn’t angle the video camera or zoom in on it. Instead she kicked the bed sheet aside while keeping the camera focused on the corpse. The camera tilted up and she bent down to retrieve it.
The dagger was heavy in her hand and it was warm and beautiful. Definitely a keepsake.
She turned the video camera to Penny and Michael. He was helping her to her feet. Looking around, Rachael found a small shoulder bag. She laid the video camera on the floor and put the dagger in the bag. She snatched up the video camera.
Suddenly Michael flew against the far wall. His body was in the air for a second and he fell on the bed, sprawled across the corpse. The dead lady moved. Her legs wrapped around Michael. He screamed. His hand reaching out to Rachael.
But she couldn’t move. She tried, but something held her. It felt like something with cold arms and the strength of steel. She struggled and tried to call out for the others but no sound escaped. It was then she felt the hands touching her. Unbuttoning her jeans. Yanking down the zipper.
Michael’s face was turning red. The veins in his neck popped out. Blue lines zigzagged across his face. The legs were around his waist, squeezing. There was a large popping and cracking sound. Michael fell limp on top of the corpse.
Penny had pushed herself against the far corner wall. Her face had lost all color. She looked like she was trying to push herself into the wall.
Rachael felt her jeans being pushed down. She finally managed to scream as the hand went between her legs and she felt two fingers slide into her. She heard a whoosh as the door slammed shut. She also heard the shouts of the others and their banging on the door. Suddenly the fingers were gone.
Four words were whispered in her ear. “Your blood isn’t ready.”
Penny screamed as she was pushed up the wall. Her legs kicked out, but hit nothing. She was flung like a rag doll across the room. Her head struck the bedpost. A deep cut opened on her forehead. Her dress was pulled up.
A deep voice boomed in the room, “Hello, period girl, my friend needs what you have.”
Penny’s panties were ripped from her; a blood soaked pad stuck to them. She screamed, arching her back as a hand pushed forcefully into her. Her legs were pushed wider apart as the hand twisted inside.
Then it was gone and the silence grew heavy.
Suddenly the door crashed open, but she didn’t hear it. Ami was screaming at her, tears pouring down her face. Eric was at Penny’s side, tending the best he could, and Josh stared blankly at Michael.
The bed jumped. Both Michael and the corpse fell lifelessly to the floor. Two ends of the mattress started rolling up and folded like a book in the centre. The two ends slammed back to the bed frame. The bed legs bent as if a great weight was pushing them down.
Eric was helping Penny to her feet when the cabinet near the bed rose into the air. The drawers flew out. Wooden bullets wanting death flew at them, smashing against the wall. They dodged four of the five. The fifth struck Eric’s head. He managed to push Penny out of the way as the cabinet frame flew at him. Instinctively, he dropped to the floor and covered his face against the falling pieces.
Josh caught Penny as she tripped near him.
Pictures in frames spun through the air.
Ami was tugging at Rachael’s arm. Rachael vaguely heard her words. Her ears felt blocked by air pressure, as she struggled to button her jeans.
Josh was yelling at Eric, who was struggling to his feet.
Glass smashed all around them. Windows wobbled in their frames before shattering. The door ripped from its hinges. It crashed to the floor.
Eric was on his feet, but his eyes were only half open. He staggered towards Rachael, stumbling over the fallen door before reaching her. He pushed Ami to the open doorway. Josh and Penny were going through it at the same time.
He picked up Rachael, but she managed to push off him. She fell to the floor. Next to her was the carry bag and video camera. She scooped both up as Eric lifted her and flung her over his broad shoulders.
The bed jittered, suddenly rising off the floor. It flew at them.
It smashed against the door frame. Eric threw his head back in a silent scream.
Rachael bounced heavily on his shoulders. She noticed Penny sitting by the elevator entrance. The doors were still open. The elevator was rocking back and forth. The thick cables swayed it wildly.
Passing the entrance to the living room, from the corner of her eye she saw Josh. She couldn’t see what he was doing, only a glimpse of clothes.
At the elevator Eric gently helped Rachael off his shoulders and through the gap into the elevator. It was the only way they knew to get to the ground floor. Next he helped Ami and then Penny. The poor girl was in shock. She stared at nothing and when he moved her, her head fell back as if there wasn’t any muscle there at all.
What the fuck was Josh doing?
Chapter Thirteen
Christchurch April 2014
Peter smiled, remembering his first kill and demand brought back his fears and worries when he cashed in that first lotto ticket. The first two winning tickets were worth a million each, but the third was a kicker: five million dollars, special draw to celebrate New Zealand’s something or another. He couldn’t remember exactly what that special draw was for now. Hell, twenty years had passed and so many great things had happened to him.
He had written three books on his rise to success, all of them lies and all of them instant bestsellers. Countless people had written to him expressing how much they loved his work, while others had sent him plans they made following his book’s ou
tline to success. At the time, he laughed at them, considering them all fools and worthless sheep. After all, all he had done was write what he thought could possibly work if all the elements of luck were in that person’s favor. As it turned out, his lies had worked wonders for many people. And due to that, the cost of living had risen, production had risen, pollution had risen, and people had money. His vanity made the common man rich.
All these years later, all those people he had killed, all his dreams came true, and it was now time for him to give his blood. But he didn’t want to go. If there was a way to come back, he would find it. Well, that was the plan ten years ago. So far he had not found it and he was content to just let it all go. The book had lived up to his expectations. He would keep his end of the deal.
All day he had waited for a visitor. The next person in line for the book, just as he had visited the bank manager twenty years ago. He hadn’t visited that bank since he had put the book into safekeeping. He wondered if they still had it. It was supposed to go to the next person in line. That person never showed.
He spent the day as normally as he could. There were no meetings, strange encounters or anything. For the first time in seventeen years, there had been no customers at his shop.
He ran the largest antique shop in New Zealand. His old shop he sold when Hans Gurber kept his promises and returned to map out a deal for the merger. He liked Hans then and had right up until his death three years ago, where he cried at his funeral. He had learned at the funeral that there was no Riley in the Hans and Riley Antique chain. Only Hans, and he controlled all of it. Three years ago, it had become Peter’s via Hans’ last will and testament.
Peter’s antique shop was unlike others. It was old and new mixed together. The first floor contained antiques from around the world, the second had an Internet Café, and the third floor was his apartment. He’d had a marble room built under the ground floor and the altar had been moved there. This was his basement and no one knew about it. Marble would last damn near forever.
In the past twenty years, he had amassed over forty-three million dollars, and it sat in the same bank as his book.
It was almost nine o’clock now and he was pretty sure no one had claimed the book. This meant he kept the powers and use of the book until someone did. But he was going to die and he was going to do it in style. Plans had been made. He would not change them.
He sat in his easy chair next to a black leather sofa and turned on the television. The headlines scrolled across the screen: New Zealanders protest breaking all ties with England. Wars in the Middle East were heating up again. China threatens war with Japan over territory dispute.
With the amount of wars and in-country fighting going on, Peter was glad, in a way, to be ending it all tonight. He could easily picture a third world war. He always wondered what results that would have. It no longer mattered to him.
He waited patiently for his Friday girl to arrive. For years he’d used an escort service. A man in his position couldn’t just go out and meet someone at a cafe without being mobbed, and Trudy was his call girl for the last ten years. He hoped she would be here soon.
If he ever loved anyone it would be her. It didn’t bother him that he had to pay for her company. He met her when his other regular girl couldn’t come one night and Trudy had filled in for her. She was sweet eighteen. Now she was twenty-eight and had her own escort agency, all thanks to his money and his books on attaining success. She was the closest he ever got to love.
Tonight would be his last night with her. The only regret he still had was never meeting his dream woman. Since he had never met her, he had never married and never had children.
All his money was going to sit in the bank. The dagger would take care of his body as it had all the others, even those he killed for the sheer pleasure of it. People would think he just went missing or was in hiding. Over the past three years, since Hans’ death, he had been withdrawing small sums of money and giving it away. All in the hope that everyone wouldn’t think he had died, but only gone into hiding. He had also started rumors of that very nature. If there were a way to come back, his money would be waiting.
And it looked like his money would be waiting for nobody forever, as he had come to believe there wasn’t any way to return. Tonight was the end.
The headlines stopped scrolling. The news station logo appeared on the screen. “Welcome to the channel seven news hour,” an announcer said. The logo faded into a lady in her thirties sitting behind a glass table. “Good evening, I’m Laura Yuden and welcome to the channel seven news.” Her voice was pleasant, but suddenly changed to serious. “Tonight’s main stories...”
Peter sat in a large easy chair. None of the main stories caught his attention. It seemed all the usual stuff was happening over and over again, only with different heads of state or ministers. The last news item did catch his attention.
“A digital camera shop in lower Opera Sands today experienced visitors of a different kind.” The announcer smiled. “More on that later.”
His door phone buzzed. Trudy was always on time. Peter smiled.
He went to the phone and lifted the receiver. Trudy had long dark hair, green eyes, and a body to die for. Where was she? The screen showed only the street below.
“Hello?”
Another person stepped into the viewer.
He heard Trudy say, “This is Terry. She’s new and I’d like to introduce the two of you.”
Peter shook his head. “So, you won’t be staying then?”
“Sorry, Peter, not tonight. How about next Friday? Wednesdays are just impossible for me.”
It wasn’t going to be the perfect last night after all. He wanted Trudy and she was about to bail on him. Nothing he could do about it, though.
Suddenly he realized Terry was the first person he had met today. It was supposed to be her. And he knew why. It saddened him that the book had gone to her; she didn’t look responsible enough to own it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Terry,” he said, carefully covering up his disappointment.
“And you too, Mr. Clement.”
“All right, I’ll buzz you in. Trudy, explain to her how to get up here.”
“I will. Again, I’m sorry, Peter.”
He smiled. “Not a problem.” He pushed the ‘OPEN’ button. The video screen went blank and a second one flickered to life. It showed the new girl, Terry, looking around the shop as she headed for the elevator.
The camera inside the elevator started when she inserted the pass card Trudy had given her. She pushed the button marked “PRIVATE” and fidgeted with her short skirt and blouse as the elevator moved slowly up.
He was waiting for her as the elevator doors slid open. She smiled at him, but didn’t move.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asked, trying to break the ice.
“Thank you,” she said, nodding.
“You’ll have to come out of there to get it. Don’t worry, I don’t bite.”
She laughed nervously and, looking at the floor, she walked past him into the living room.
“Have a seat,” he said, motioning to the black leather sofa. “What would you like?”
“Is a rum and coke okay?”
“Anything’s okay at Peter’s bar.” He smiled and went to the fridge. Opening the door, he whispered to the empty refrigerator, “Rum and coke. Extra strong rum.” And there it was on the second shelf, a pre-mixed bottle.
The sound of the television in the background caught his attention. He grabbed her drink, but stood behind the sofa watching the screen, holding the drink in his left hand. Terry turned and saw him, but remained quiet. Peter’s full attention was on the television.
The announcer said with a smile, “Yes, visitors of a different kind. I’m not talking about aliens or Roswell type of story, but this would fit nicely with Outer Limits.” Her smile widened. “The visitors at T and T Digital Options were shoplifting ghosts. We go now to Anna.”
The sc
reen flashed and Anna was staring at him. He listened closely to the report of ghosts stealing a digital camera and video camera. Then smashing the glass door. It seems that the ghosts appeared in full view for only a second, but the surveillance camera caught an image of them leaving the store in a rush.
The news team rewound the tape. They froze it at the exact second the ghosts appeared. Peter almost dropped the drink. He was staring at his dream woman, who was holding a sheet of white paper.
“Why don’t you sit here?” Terry said, patting the sofa’s cushion.
He sat next to her and handed over the bottle, trying to picture Terry as his dream woman, but he found it too hard. He needed the real thing, not pay-to-use toys.
He watched as she unscrewed the top and took a long swallow.
Peter reached over and started undoing her blouse. She froze with the bottle to her lips. He didn’t stop.
“Let me put this bottle down,” she said.
He watched her place the bottle on the mirror glass tabletop. As soon as she released it, he reached over and grabbed the collar of her blouse. Gently he eased it off her shoulders. She stood up and it fell to the floor.
Standing in front of him, she unzipped her skirt. It also fell to the floor.
Peter liked what he saw. He stood up and cupped a breast in each hand. Gently he massaged the nipples until they stood erect. He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.
The walls were black and the only light came from two bedside lamps. Peter dumped her on the king-size bed. He took off his shirt and undid his belt. Terry sat on the edge of the bed. She slowly pulled his zipper down and unhooked his pants. She took him in her mouth.
Peter groaned. Terry was better at this than Trudy. He massaged her breasts as her mouth worked him hard. He pushed her off him and made her lie on the bed. Lifting her legs up, he pushed in. It was his turn to make her groan.
His pumping increased as he felt her juicing up.
Terry turned her head from side to side. Her moaning growing louder. She shuddered violently and grabbed his ass to hold him inside.
