Her Master's Kiss

by Sparx, Vivien

Jeffery squirmed, writhing fitfully, his instincts screaming to him that he was in danger. He yelped again, a tiny, pathetic little sound against the moan of the wind.

  Madden knew without seeing that it was a puppy. He clutched the dog to him, feeling the leaping erratic thump of its heart. The little pup nipped at him, sinking his teeth into Madden’s finger.

  Madden smiled.

  He upended the pup, holding it by its hind legs, letting him dangle helplessly from his fist, and groped his way back to the doorway. He picked up the axe, and then – almost as an afterthought – he dashed Jeffrey’s body against the bedroom wall then dropped the puppy on the ground.

  * *

  Renee knew it was only a matter of time. She crouched beside the bed, cowering in the dark, and her ears were attuned to danger. The rain had passed, sweeping away further down the valley as quickly and as ferociously as it had arrived. The wind was still moaning and rushing through the trees, but now it was more distant and less menacing.

  In the relative silence Renee’s fear seemed magnified. She heard a heavy, dull thump beyond the bedroom door; a sound she could not guess at, but she knew Madden was coming closer.

  She felt for her handbag beside the bed and her hand scrambled through the contents until she found her phone. She stabbed her finger at the buttons. The display screen lit up, casting her face in a pale ghostly glow.

  A light!

  She scrolled down to the display of Stefan’s number, her fingers suddenly thick and awkward. She thumbed the ‘call’ button and groaned when the call would not connect. She tried again.

  Suddenly she heard the bedroom door smash back against its hinges, and despite herself, she looked to the doorway in fright. Larry Madden was a dark menacing shape, huge and terrifying.

  He shouted out, his voice maddened but rising in triumph.

  “I see you, baby bunting!”

  Renee screamed in panic and ducked behind the bed. She powered off the phone, and stuffed it into her pocket. The room went dark again. But it was too late. He knew where she was. She could no longer hide.

  On her hands and knees Renee crawled to the foot of the bed. He had seen her face, reflected in the dull light of the phone, cowering near her bedside table. There was no time to crawl under the bed. There was nowhere to flee. She heard Madden coming closer. He was dragging something heavy across the carpet.

  She saw the shape of Madden’s foot appear in the darkness, right in front of her as he stepped past the end of the bed and closed in. She lunged for him, and the piercing scream in her throat was frenzied and fearful and frantic and desperate.

  All she had on her side was surprise – and fear; the desperate fear of the hunted animal.

  Renee flung herself from her crouch, pushing with all her strength.

  For a single second Madden was unbalanced and surprised.

  Madden went staggering backwards, his arms flailing, Renee with her hands flat against his chest until the back of his head struck the corner of the chest of drawers near the bedroom door with such force it jarred his whole body. The sound was sickening. Madden groaned

  He went over backwards with Renee on top of him. The axe fell from his hand. Then, just as quickly, her advantage was gone. Madden’s hands went for her throat, strangling her scream of fear and anger.

  They rolled together on the ground. Madden’s hands locked tight around Renee’s throat. His weight and strength were overpowering, and suddenly he was shouting in her face, his voice rising in a savage scream. Renee’s legs kicked and thrashed, and her fingers clawed at the heavy dark mass of his face that was so close above hers she could smell the stench of his breath. She felt for his eyes and scraped her nails down hard. Madden recoiled away and groaned painfully. Renee used the instant of respite to kick hard and they rolled again.

  Madden’s fingers around her throat loosened and she wrenched herself free of him, convulsing and heaving as fresh air hissed into her gulping mouth. She reached out for the edge of the chest of drawers, but it was too heavy to move. She pulled one of the drawers down on him, and then reeled away staggering.

  She kicked something heavy on the floor. She bent and lifted it. It felt like a weapon. Madden was a dark shape in the corner. She swung the thing wildly and it crashed into the chest of drawers, shattering the timber and jarring her arm all the way to her shoulders. She dropped the thing; her left arm felt numbed.

  Madden’s hand struck out at her, latching onto her leg. She screamed again, blind with terror as she stumbled back to the ground. Her hand fell on something sharp and cold and she grabbed at it.

  Renee knew instantly by the feel of the thing that it was the pewter jewelry box she had bought at a market stall. Her fingers wrapped around the box and she swung it with all of her might. Madden was gathering himself to lunge. The edge of the box cracked hard against the side of his face. He fell sideways with a groan. Renee dropped the box and crawled desperately for the open bedroom door.

  With fumbling, trembling fingers she pulled the phone from her pocket. She was crying uncontrollably, shaking with adrenalin and cold terror. She powered up the phone and the dull light was enough for her to see ahead.

  She scrambled into the hallway and then the eerie glow from the phone fell across a small pathetic shape.

  “No,” she sobbed. “Oh, God no!”

  Jeffrey’s body lay broken and unmoving. Renee’s hands flew to her mouth and she knelt over the puppy, rocking and softly wailing with a heart-wrenching anguish that tore at her very soul. Her vision misted with tears and she cried out with despair.

  The enormity of her grief was like a weight that crushed the air from her lungs and stilled her heart. She reached out for the pup, her hand trembling – but a sudden sound froze her in fear.

  Madden!

  Renee clambered to her feet and began to run, using the display screen of phone to light the way. Heavy shadows of debris and broken furniture loomed like dark claws.

  The back door was the closest. She ran into a wall, bounced off and then she was scrabbling at the lock, her fingers frantic and panicked.

  Heavy blundering footsteps followed her.

  Suddenly a hand snatched at her shoulder, tearing at the material of her blouse. Renee screamed and swung away. She pulled the door open and stepped out onto the back porch before she remembered the pavers were littered with broken glittering shards of glass from the outdoor table. She looked down at her bare feet and balked. Then she looked over her shoulder. Madden was right behind her!

  Renee burst across the porch and then leaped down onto the soft lawn. The pain in her feet was a stabbing agony but she clenched her jaw and ran on towards the back fence, sensing Madden was in pursuit.

  The light surprised her. Overhead dark clouds were scudding across the moon, but the ambient light was enough for her to see her way. The storm-shattered fence loomed ahead. She ran without hesitation, climbing over broken palings until she was into the grassy woodland behind the house, leaving a bloodied trail of footprints behind her.

  Ahead, rising bleak and dark and foreboding, was the mountain.

  Twenty-One.

  Stefan mounted the curb without slowing and then braced himself for impact. The car crashed through the front fence and slewed to a halt on the muddy front lawn.

  Stefan leaned across the passenger seat. There was a flashlight in the glove compartment. He wrapped his fist around it and was out of the car and running.

  He reached the front door and kicked it in. The torch cut a white beam of light across the wreckage of the room.

  “Renee!”

  There was debris from a small side-table in front of him. Stefan kicked it out of the way. He saw the sofa. One arm had been split open, as though the upholstery had been knifed. Glass littered the carpet from the shattered bay window. He dashed across the living room, feeling the floor wet and sodden underfoot.

  “Renee!”

  Stefan strode down the hallway. The bedroom doors on either side of th
e hall were both open. He stood in the doorway to Tink’s room and swept the torch around. He saw books and perfume bottles strewn across the floor. The curtains were on the ground. Then he saw Jeffrey’s body lying in the doorway, close to where he stood. Stefan felt the stab of his grief like a blow to the stomach. He blinked, swallowed hard, and then turned the torch quickly across the hall and shone the harsh beam of light into their own bedroom.

  “Renee!”

  The bedroom was a jumble of wreckage. The chest of drawers near the door had been smashed, and one of the drawers and its contents lay strewn across the floor. Stefan saw big muddy footprints on the carpet, and glittering baubles that were Renee’s jewelry.

  “Renee!”

  He ran back along the hall, heading for the kitchen but stopped in mid-stride when he noticed the back door wide open. A puff of cold night air breezed in through the door, fluttering papers and ruffling the curtains. There were muddy marks along the wall. He lunged through the door, out onto the back patio, and his breath jammed tight in his throat.

  The play of the flashlight had caught a bright red daub of color on the patio pavers. It was blood. He saw scattered glass, and then another spatter of blood. He swung the torch wider. There were shoe prints sunken into the muddy lawn. Wider still, the torch swept over the broken fence.

  “Jesus!” Stefan breathed, wild with anger and fear as the realization struck him. “She’s heading for Picnic Rock!”

  Twenty-Two.

  Renee broke through the screen of low shrubs and onto the meandering path that wound its way up to the crest at Picnic Rock. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her as the ground ahead began to rise, and the thick mud clung and sucked at her bleeding feet.

  Parts of the path she remembered. Other parts were steep and disorientating. The deluged ground slipped away from underneath her. She fell and rolled, her arms swinging and flailing for a handhold. She landed heavily, and came up onto her knees, her arms lacerated and gouged.

  She sobbed with fear. She could hear Madden’s heavy footfalls as he came after her. The night sky was clearing as the storm swept away across the valley. She stared back down the slope but could see nothing, even though the sounds of him were loud in her ears.

  She struggled to her feet and reeled away again, heading higher up the mountain. For a short time the path was clear and grassy and she ran until she felt her lungs would burst.

  Then the woodlands became denser and darker as the canopy of trees overhead blocked all light. Renee powered up the cell phone again and stumbled onwards, moving slower now as the pain in her feet and exhaustion began to take its toll. The trees crowded in close around her. Terrifying shapes and shadows leaped out at her face like claws as she stumbled and staggered. She cried out – a shrill scream of sheer terror – as her blouse became snagged on a low hanging branch. She kicked out, sure it was Madden clutching at her. Then the fabric tore, ripping the blouse from her back and she was free.

  Her hair was thick with mud and she scraped it from her eyes, not even aware of the blood that ran down her arms and onto her face. She stopped and turned, trying to listen over the sawing rasp of her own ragged breathing, trying to see through the blurring tears that streaked trails down her mud and blood covered cheeks.

  She heard the slosh of feet splashing through puddled water, and then she saw branches sway and snap, not ten feet away. Madden loomed out of the night like a nightmare.

  Renee screamed again.

  She backed away and powered off the phone. There was a thick tree trunk just a few paces away and for one brief moment she thought to hide in its shadow. She glanced left and right, knowing there was no escape.

  Then she heard Larry Madden giggle, and it was a sick, demented high-pitched sound that filled her with fresh tremors of terror.

  She turned and staggered on, knowing she could not last much longer – knowing that Madden was too strong.

  Renee felt the ground rise steeply and she scrambled up the crest, clawing on her hands and knees and using tufts of grass and broken branches to pull herself higher. The ground was firmer here, and when she was able to struggle to her feet again, she realized she was standing near the tree that Stefan had showed her, covered with people’s carvings.

  She had reached Picnic Rock.

  And she could go no further.

  She was finished.

  Renee backed away towards a large rounded boulder and crouched there, trying to make herself small in the shadows, clutching at the shreds of her blouse. She was trembling and shivering and sobbing silently. Her lungs burned, starved of oxygen but she daren’t breath.

  For long seconds she stayed hidden, and as every second passed, so her hope began to rise. A minute passed. And then another. Renee let out a long shuddering sigh. Her legs cramped and there was fresh blood oozing from her feet and arms. But she stayed hidden in the shadow of the rocks and she began to whisper a prayer.

  She saw nothing.

  So quick was Larry Madden’s hand, so strong his grip, that Renee had no time to react, and no strength to fight. He lashed out, grabbing her, striking like a snake, and it was only as he was hauling her to her feet that she realized he had been crouched, waiting with the excruciating, tantalizing pleasure of it, just a few feet from where she had hidden.

  “Say a prayer for me, baby bunting,” he laughed, delighting in the stricken shock on Renee’s tear-streaked face. He held her easily and dragged her to her feet, pressing her against the rock. He changed his grip so one big hand was tight around her throat, and with the other he tugged at the scraps of her blouse.

  Renee flailed her arms at him, but she was weak and exhausted. He laughed a girlish giggle and kicked hard at her shins to force her legs apart.

  “Struggling is only going to tire you out,” Madden said. “I’m not gonna kill you. Not yet. So why not save your energy for when the fun begins?”

  He leaned over her, crushing his mouth down hard on hers, biting her lip so that her mouth filled with the coppery tang of her own blood. She felt his tongue, like a rodent, deep inside her mouth and she gagged in revulsion.

  Madden kissed harder, suffocating her, and his free hand was on her breasts, forcing her bra aside, painfully pinching and squeezing her nipples.

  He broke the kiss, and as Renee wheezed fresh air into her lungs he leaned forward and slowly licked her cheek.

  Renee screamed with the last gasps of breath and with the final flickering embers of her strength.

  Stefan knew the mountain well. He knew her many faces, her moods – and he knew her secrets.

  He did not follow the trail to Picnic Rock. Instead he took to the mountain’s steep rises, running where he could, climbing on his hands and knees when he had to. With the torch in his hand, playing erratic patterns of light against the trees, he forced himself higher and higher.

  Rage and regret drove him on.

  When he was high up on the ridge at a place where two narrow dirt paths converged, he paused for long precious seconds and swept the ground around him with the torch. There was movement to the left and slightly below him and he wasted more seconds before he realized it was merely the night breeze rustling through the treetops.

  He cursed.

  He stood, panting, his body streaked with mud and soaked in sweat, and he listened to the sounds of the night while he scanned the woods with eyes that were wild.

  Then Renee screamed, and he realized the sound was close; that she had reached Picnic Rock – and that Madden had trapped her there.

  Stefan felt a sudden lift of savage relief, and a dark red mist of his rage. He gave himself into them – using them to crash through the dense fringe of woods that were the last barrier to the plateau high above the valley.

  At the last moment Madden saw the darkness of his shape and heard the murderous growl in his throat. He let Renee go and turned to meet Stefan’s charge.

  He had left the axe leaning against the rocks and he knew there was no time to reach for i
t. Stefan came at him at a full run, the torch held high like a club, and Madden went into a fighting crouch and braced himself.

  They came together, two big men. Stefan had momentum. Madden was fueled by his own madness.

  The impact sent them sprawling to the rocky ground, Stefan driving his shoulder into Madden’s chest and rolling on top of him. The air exploded from Madden’s lungs in a whoosh that starred his vision.

  The torch fell free from Stefan’s hands and skittered across the rocks. He bunched his fist and smashed it into Madden’s face, feeling cartilage and bone breaking.

  Madden groaned and spat a mouthful of blood at Stefan. Then he heaved with all his might, kicking with his legs as levers so that the two men rolled apart.

  Stefan came to his feet, moving like a panther. Madden was slower. He was shaking his head, his ears singing with the pain of Stefan’s punch. His mouth was filled with blood. It gushed down his throat and stained the front of his shirt.

  Stefan moved in closer, light on his feet. His face was a mask of fury and pure hatred. He snapped out a punch that hit Madden flush on his jaw and the big man staggered back for room. Then Stefan punched again, this time clipping Madden’s ear as he rolled his head away from the blow.

  Madden backed away again, but Stefan would give him no room. He pressed in closer, and when Madden swung a clumsy right hook, Stefan ducked under the swinging arm and lunged forward, his arms outstretched, a savage roar in his throat.

  Stefan hit Madden flush in the broad of the big man’s chest with every ounce of his strength. Madden staggered back and his arms wind milled for a hand-hold that was not there. His foot slipped on the crumbling lip of the plateau and he teetered for a second, his eyes wide with terror, and his balance uncertain.

  Then the rock underfoot crumbled away – and Larry Madden fell backwards, disappearing over the edge, and plunging to his death in the valley far, far below.

  Stefan stood for a moment at the edge of the plateau. His chest heaved like a bellows as the red mist of his rage subsided. Then he picked up the torch and turned to Renee.