by A L Makin
“Willow,” I hear him whisper, as I take another step forward and close the door behind me without looking back.
Chapter Eight
It’s safe to say that I hardly slept a wink last night. Everything that happened yesterday played out in my mind on a continuous loop all night long. So it’s a good job that I won’t be seeing Travis today because I’m shattered. Also, I’ve no idea how I’m going to explain to him that Ryder turned up in the garden after he left. That’s if I tell him at all? It might just cause more hassle than it’s worth. I mean nothing happened … literally nothing. He just stood there like a gormless gnome only grunting a few words. The more I think about it, there more I decide to keep it to myself.
The morning and afternoon ticks by slowly and it’s been bliss. I’ve managed to catch up on some sleep, take a long relaxing bath and read a book. The clock reads three in the afternoon and Max is itching for a walk. If I’m going to take him out, the time to do it is now. There’s not a cat in hells chance I’m going to take him out after dark. If living in Ravenhills has taught me anything, it’s that it the freaks are out in full force when the sun goes down.
I get his lead out and he bounds up to me wagging his tail. After clipping it to his collar, we leave the house. Dressed in black leggings and a pink vest top, it’s a bit cooler than it has been recently, and I have to zip up my jacket to keep the cold out.
We make our way out of the garden and towards one of the open moorlands close to Thomas’s home. With no plans on staying out longer than we have to, I unclip Max. He takes one quick look at me, barks then bounds a few feet in front sniffing the air and grass as he goes. I follow him slowly behind. I can see him in the distance and he looks like he’s enjoying the freedom. We’ve been out walking this route plenty of times now, and even when I lose sight of Max, I always find him at the edge of the field, down the embankment and by the stream. He loves running in and out of the water, even on a cold day like today.
Wandering the field with Max, I get lost in a daydream. I can’t help but replay everything that’s happened over the last few years and wonder where it all went wrong. I’ve never been someone who thrives off drama, but it seems that no matter how much I’ve tried to avoid it, destiny has had different ideas.
Max runs over to me, a large stick in his mouth. He drops it in front of my feet, so I pick it up and throw it for him. We keep walking while Max continues to run back and forth chasing the stick. It doesn’t take long when we reach the embankment. With Max panting beside me, we stop playing fetch and walk down to the stream so he can have a drink.
Crouching at the stream's edge, he begins to lap the cool freshwater while I perch on a large rock by his side. I find it fascinating watching him. I love how much joy he gets from the simplest things in life. I wish we could all be a little more like Max. Maybe if we were then the world wouldn’t be so screwed up.
He finishes drinking and starts playing in the cool water, running in and out occasionally chasing his stick. I pick up a few pebbles close by and begin to throw them into the water one by one watching the patterns they make on the surface when I hear Max growl only a few feet away from me. I’ve never heard him growl like that before, so it takes me by surprise. I look towards him and can see he has his back arched and his bright white teeth are exposed. He’s staring across and down the stream where three men are walking towards us. I don’t like how he’s reacting, so I quietly call to Max to come back.
He doesn’t listen, instead, he stands fast growling a little louder as the men get closer. Having the water separating us makes me feel a tiny bit better about the situation. However, I don’t think I’ll feel properly at ease until we’re back home safe and sound with the door firmly locked behind us.
I call out to Max louder and can hear the panic in my voice.
“Max! Here now!”
He listens this time and begins to walk towards me. As soon as he’s close enough I clip Max back to his lead and turn to walk away. I only manage a couple of feet when one of the men calls out from behind us.
“Aww, where you going, love? I thought you might stay and play for a little while?”
The way he spoke chills me to the bone and I pray that these men aren’t some of the men that Travis warned me about that first night I met him. However, the feelings which begin to flood the air tell me that I’ve managed to find myself in yet another scary situation and that his version of playing would be anything but nice.
I don’t answer him, instead, I push ahead reaching the bottom of the embankment. I hear all three of them laugh. They’ve scared me, and they know it.
“This should be fun,” a different male voice calls out.
I start to climb the steady hill when I’m violently pushed from behind. I fall to the ground screaming from the shock and accidentally let go of Max’s lead.
How did they cross the water so quick? I think to myself.
I’m a sitting duck in this position, so I flip myself over in time to watch Max jump up at the man who has just pushed me, snapping at his face. They wrestle for a few moments when he begins to cry out to his friends for help. I push out with my hands and feet in an attempt to create more distance between us. Wafts of alcohol and sweat fill the air making me want to vomit.
The man screams out as Max bites into his arm. He’s a big and heavy dog and manages to drag the tall man to his knees as he locks on tight to his arm not letting go. With the man’s arm still trapped between his teeth, he begins to shake his head wildly from side to side. If Max continues to thrash about much longer, he’s easily going to rip the guy's arm off.
His friends shout to him from the opposite side of the stream. There’s no chance they’re going to make it across the water in time to stop Max. When all of a sudden I watch in freakish awe as the pair of them jump like fleas from the far side of the stream to land only a few feet away. They land without a sound and immediately spring towards Max. Claw-like hands splayed wide.
I scream for them to stop.
For Max to let go.
To leave us alone.
But no one listens ...
With his back towards them, Max has no idea what’s approaching. He stays locked on and I can only watch in horror as they head straight for him, closing in until he’s swallowed up in the dark, stinking mess of the men surrounding him.
I can’t sit here and let them hurt Max, he only attacked them to protect me. Frantically I scan the ground and manage to spot a long thick branch by the water’s edge. It must have washed downstream. Scrambling off the ground I run over to the branch and pick it up in both hands. It’s heavy and I find it hard to hold being slimy and wet, but I have no choice. I need to get that vermin off poor Max.
I hear him yelp out in pain. I can’t see what they’re doing to him, but his cry gives me the strength I need to run towards them and start swinging the branch. I make contact with one of them, so I keep swinging out wide. Again and again, I hit each one of them, over and over. I don’t relent until I see them drop Max. He falls to the ground in a lifeless heap when they turn their attention towards me.
I take a few steps back with the branch still firmly in my hands. Stood in a line with a lifeless looking Max in front of them, I finally get a clear view of the men.
Each one is dressed in filthy looking clothes, and each one smells as equally as bad as the other. With faces covered in scars, their hair looks dirty and matted. All three of them have an evil possessed look on their face, and I find I have to switch off my empathic ability because I’m unable to mentally handle the sick and twisted emotions that are flowing off each one of them like toxic sewage.
With one last look at Max on the floor not moving, I start to walk backwards. My eyes begin to well up at what they have just done to my friend and what they’re about to do to me. I walk backwards further hoping to keep our distance, but I know I’m only delaying the inevitable. They step over Max and walk slowly towards me, clearly enjoying this game of cat and mous
e we seem to be playing.
The smaller man out of the three grows impatient and leaps towards me. He reaches me in one move, and I feel his claw-like hands grab the top of both my arms. He squeezes hard making me drop the branch. The stench of sweat and alcohol is overwhelming and I can’t help but turn my head to the side. Closing my eyes tight I breathe through my mouth trying to stop myself from vomiting. He digs his nails into my arms, through my jacket and into my flesh. Warm blood slowly trickles down each arm as I scream out in pain. It hurts so much I cry out for him to stop, but he doesn’t. I turn back and spit in his face.
His eyes glow a bright hazel as he laughs in my face. My spit swinging off of his bottom lip. I spit in his face again, hoping he’ll let me go, but instead he sticks out his long purple rancid looking tongue and laps it up. I can’t help but dry heave watching him.
“Mmm, lovely,” he says smiling, showing off a mouth full of razor-sharp rotting teeth. Everything about this man is revolting. I’ve never seen someone so grotesque.
“Please let me go ... please,” I whisper as a single tear falls down my face.
He watches it travel the length of my face before answering.
“But I thought we were havin’ fun darlin’. I thought you wanted to play?” he drawls out. An evil glint that only burns brighter ... he’s enjoying this.
His friends catch up, joining him on either side. I look between the three of them. With the same look on each of their faces, they’re each as vile as one another. With the shortest one still holding onto my arms, the tallest one, the one who pushed me over grabs at my jacket and undoes the zip.
The cold air rushes in immediately making my skin cold. My arms are finally freed in time for the tallest one to pull off my jacket. As soon as the jacket hits the floor, the other two quickly manhandle me like a piece of meat, while the tallest one stands back to look at me pinned by his friends.
“Nah, that won’t do. I think I want to see more,” he smirks showing off his mouth full of broken rotting teeth nestled between cracked, scabby lips.
Grabbing my pink vest top with his filthy claw-like hands, he rips it down the middle at the front. He then walks behind me and does the same again. My vest falls down each arm to my wrists exposing my breasts in my black bra. I feel vulnerable and humiliated stood in just my bra and leggings. Covered in goosebumps the cold bites at my skin and I begin to go numb. I can only hope that I go numb enough to dull the feeling of whatever is about to happen; something that if I’m to survive the ordeal which lays ahead, will scar and change me forever. Another tear falls down my cheek at that horrid thought.
“Now, my friends are going to let go of your arms. You’ve seen how fast we can move. If you try and run, we will catch you. And I promise you now; we will not be gentle or quick in what we do … I will make sure of that. So it’s in your best interest to stay exactly where you are and do exactly as you’re told. You got that?” he asks like I have any choice in the matter.
I know I don’t, and he knows I know that. He’s just playing more sick games with me. I open my mouth to answer and find I can’t speak, so I just nod my head in response.
As much as I seem to have lost my voice, in my head I’m screaming and it’s deafening. My brain is commanding me to run, to kick, to scream, to punch … but I can’t. I know I can’t because they’ll only make it worse.
The tall man walks behind me while his friend’s keep a firm hold of my arms. He wastes no time in kicking me hard in the back of my knees making my legs buckle. I cry out and the men let go as I crumple to the ground on all fours. Wasting no time, the small one grabs my hair and begins to drag me backwards. I reach up frantically with both hands and try to peel his fingers off the tight grip he’s got on my hair. But it’s no use, he’s a lot stronger than I am and he manages to pull back enough so that I have to kneel to stop my hair from being ripped out. I sob uncontrollably at the torture being inflicted. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
The small man keeps a tight grip on my hair, and they all laugh at me in unison. Pressure like a black fog starts to build in my head clouding my brain. I’m finding it hard to concentrate and start to feel dizzy. I don’t know if I’m going to pass out or throw up. The small man lets go of my hair and I feel instant relief. But only from the pain. The black fog continues to build up inside of my mind. He only let's go for a split second, enough time for him and his mate to grab my arms again, pulling me up off the ground.
With the tallest man stood in front of me, he goes to reach out for my bra when the men on my sides each dig their long nails into the bloody wounds on my arms. I can’t take it any longer, the black fog of pain and pressure takes over and I scream out. I scream so loud that the men let go of my arms and have to cover their ears to stop them from bleeding. With free arms I push them forward with every ounce of strength I can muster, hitting the tall guy square in his chest.
As soon as my hands make contact with him, he’s propelled through the air with more force than I ever knew I had. The other two watch with their hands over their ears as their friend soars backwards through the air like a bird. Seconds later I hear a loud crunch as he lands on a large rock, hip first. The sound of it shattering into a thousand pieces rattles through the air.
While the two men are distracted with what’s just happened to their friend, I take the opportunity to make a run for it and head towards the hill. I only manage a few feet until I feel myself being grabbed from behind. I lash out kicking and screaming. With what I’ve just done to their friend, I’ve decided that I hold the keys to my own fate and I’m not going down without a fight. If they think I’m going to roll over and be an easy target, they’ve got another thing coming.
The smallest guy has hold of me again and begins to drag me backwards. I twist in his arms and begin to punch and kick at him. The small man is alone as the other man has gone to help their friend on the floor. The tall man cries out in agony as his friend tries but fails to stand him up. I still have no idea how I managed to hit him so hard, but I got him good. He’s not going anywhere fast.
The small guy holding me keeps trying to drag me over towards the other two men, his sharp fingers digging deep into my wrists. But I continue to fight against him, slowing him down. He spins me around pinning both my wrists behind my back. With his weight behind me now, he pushes me easily towards them. Inching me closer and closer to the two men, I dig my heels into the ground and dust clouds form in the air around us.
My thighs begin to burn from pushing back, when out of nowhere a flash of black springs on top of the man trying to help the tall man up off the floor. With their backs towards us, I watch in awe as the man crumbles under his weight.
Falling onto his hands and knees the man in black on his back stays pinned to him. I watch as he reacts quickly showing zero mercy as he grabs either side of his head in a strong grip hold. Before the guy on the floor can react, fight or protest, he’s pulled up with such force that he rips his head clean off. The decapitated body falls to the ground and the man stands up holding the head in his hands. He takes his time walking over to the tall guy who is sat facing us on the floor. I watch as his face contorts with fear as the man dressed in black, tosses his friends head into his lap.
He stares down at the severed head of his friend in his lap. Dead bloodshot eyes stare up at him. Watching his friend decapitated overrides any urge that the short guy has to keep a hold of me. He pushes me hard out of the way and I fall to the ground scraping my knees and hands on the dirty floor. Sprinting as fast as he can, he runs towards the man dressed in black. He’s got his back to him and can’t see him coming.
I open my mouth, ready to warn him; but I needn’t have bothered as just as the short guy reaches him he turns around quickly, grabs him by the throat and throws him clear out of his way. He picked him up and tossed him aside as easily as if he was made out of cotton wool.
However, to my surprise, the short guy is more agile than he looks, and he manages
to land on his feet in a crouched position. He stares up at the man in black and with a menacing look on his face, he slowly skulks forward never taking his eyes off the man who has just murdered his friend.
The man dressed in black stupidly pays him no attention and begins to make his way over to the water’s edge. He doesn’t get far before the short guy springs up into the air aiming straight for him. In quick succession the man dressed in black turns and leaps himself. They clash mid-air and tumble to the ground. The man in black has the short guy pinned to the floor by his throat. He gasps for air as he frantically grasps at the hands around his throat. He tries in vain to loosen his grip, but the more he struggles the more the man dressed in black squeezes his fingers tighter, digging into his neck.
I watch as his eyes begin to bulge out of their sockets, his face turning red … then purple as he struggles to breathe. He gargles incoherently begging him to stop. But he ignores his babbled pleas of mercy. Instead, he clamps down even harder. His fingers begin to disappear into his dirty flesh as blood trickles out.
I have no idea how much more the short guy can take, when suddenly in one fluid motion, the guy dressed in black pulls back with his hand and pulls the windpipe clear out of his throat. Blood sprays the air, covering the ground as the short man splutters on his last few breaths of life, finally choking to death on his own blood. Lifeless eyes stare up at the sky as the man dressed in black stands up, windpipe in hand.
Thoughts of moving, of getting away flash through my mind. I urge my body to move, but I’m paralysed to the spot. Paralysed from a mix of fear and cold. So instead I remain sat shivering on the cold floor with my legs drawn up to my chest.
I watch as the man dressed in black walks over to the final man left of the three. The tall man, unable to move after his hip shattered on the rock. Dark blood drips from the windpipe as he moves forward, leaving bloodied stepping stones in its wake.
Reaching the man sat on the ground he wastes no time in tossing it into his lap. It joins the severed head, hitting it against its cheek leaving a bloodied mark behind. The man on the floor doesn’t react. He keeps looking up. His eyes remain fixed on the man dressed in black and I find have to listen carefully as he attempts to reason with him.
