The noise sounded again. It was stark and ominous in the pre-dawn quiet. It seemed to be coming from under the house. A tapping and scraping, like metal on metal, or a fingernail knocking on a desk.
Rosie searched for the source, her ears cocked, head raised. She stared at the corner where the noise emanated from.
“What is it, girl?” Jenny asked, getting off the bed she crossed stealthily to the window. The deep carpet was comforting between her toes, so normal it relaxed her. As she reached the wall, the scraping began again, and insects seemed to crawl across her skin as the noise continued. She peeked around the curtains, and spotted a light behind some conifers in the garden. Then it was gone. Curious, she leaned in close to the cool glass, and peered into the smoky dark of the night. The garden was deep in shadow, with lots of shapes, but none she could make out. She pressed in closer, her breath steaming up the window. Wiping the glass, she saw movement.
Robert was walking from the conifers back to the house. Head held high, a grin on his face.
“I wonder where he’s been?” Jenny asked the dog. The noise started again. This time it was a metallic scraping, like a bar tapping on a metal table. Jenny’s arms instantly rose in goosebumps. She rubbed them absently, and leaned back to the cold void of glass.
Robert looked across the garden directly towards her. A stab of panic sliced her chest, and she ducked back behind the curtains, hiding in the shadows. The urge to hide from him was strong, and instinctual.
She slid the bright drapes back an inch, and peeked out carefully. He walked around to the front door then disappeared inside. He had looked so calm, and for a second she felt unease creep into her stomach. Tutting she realized that of course he was calm. This was his house. Jenny quickly moved to the door, and listened. The front door was shut quietly, and she heard a double slap as shoes were left on the kitchen floor. She could just make out the sound of Robert walking across the hall downstairs, his feet tapping lightly on the wooden floor. Then he walked up the stairs, and the carpet muffled his progress. She heard him pass her door, his steps pausing for a moment as he did.
Flattened against the wall, she worried he would check on her, and find her out of bed. Why was she worried? What did it matter?
Rosie was by her side, quiet for now, but her hackles were raised and her body was tense. Jenny could feel her quivering against her legs.
Robert’s door opened down the hallway, and then closed behind him. A breath of relief squeezed passed her lips, and she smiled down at the dog.
Rosie sat staring back at her, her stump of a tail wagging, and her mouth open with her long pink tongue lolling out.
Jenny stood undecided, something had woken her, and for some reason it felt wrong. Was she safe? Should she check? Leaning her back against the wall, she rested her head on its solid surface. The pounding of her heart still shook her chest, and her head ached from lack of sleep. What should she do?
Rosie touched her soft muzzle to Jenny’s cold hand. She then walked to the door, and whined softly.
“Ok,” Jenny whispered, “You need to go out.”
Logic told her that all was fine. Maybe Robert had been out to shut another window. Maybe he heard something. Whatever it was he would not have looked so calm if something was wrong. She was just being paranoid.
Stumbling across the semi-dark room she searched for her jeans and a t-shirt, and dressed quickly, careful to avoid making too much noise. Picking up her trainers, she headed for the door.
Rosie was now calm, but she still worried. Placing her ear against the smooth paint of the solid wood, she listened. All seemed quiet. Gently, she eased the door open, and looked out into the hallway. There was just enough light to make out a way to the stairs.
They left the room together, searching the gloom for signs of life. Like thieves in the night, they stole down the corridor. Jenny tiptoed to the stairs, and cautiously they made it to the front door. Only the sound of Rosie’s claws, slipping and sliding on the wooden floor, betrayed their presence.
The keys were in the door, Jenny unlocked it carefully, listening, straining to hear. Nothing. She eased it open, and looked out, and the cold of the night rushed in and chilled her bare arms. Rosie pushed past her, and raced off, tracking the footsteps in the damp grass towards the conifers.
Jenny closed the door silently behind her, and stepped out into the cold of the predawn. The air chilled her skin, sending a slice of dread into her stomach, and then down her spine. The night was still, and deathly quiet. She could see tracks leading across the garden in the damp grass where Robert had returned to the house. Dew was shining on the grass, and dripping from the bushes. She stopped to put on her trainers, hopping on one foot after the other, before following Rosie’s path across the lawn towards the conifers. She noted the dog took almost the exact same route Robert had taken.
The garden was large and mature, with lots of shadows. A huge Gunnera dwarfed her as she walked past it. Smaller conifers and shrubs threatened her with their ghostly appearance. She ducked between arches, flinching as a spider web briefly tickled across her face. She thrashed against its gossamer filament as it seemed to tangle into her hair. Breathing fast, she eventually cleared the web, and brushed her face with her hands, disgusted that the creature may be crawling there. She had always been afraid of spiders. Her dad used to tease her, telling her that if she did not sleep, spiders would crawl into her mouth. It had been a harmless comment, but had stayed with her. Now, she hated spiders, and their creepy little legs.
Continuing along the trail left by Rosie and Robert, she found their tracks clearly visible in the damp grass. Her trainers were soaking up the dew, and her sockless feet were cold as ice. She sensed a threat, as if each border was in cohorts with a hidden assassin. Each bush could be reaching out to get her, each shape not a plant but an unseen menace. Logically it seemed so silly, and she tried to calm herself as she followed the dog. Who could find her here? She was safe.
She approached the conifers. They formed an impenetrable barrier of dense green between the garden, and a six-foot brick wall that surrounded it. As she walked into their shadow, the temperature dropped even lower, and she hugged her arms to warm herself.
Rosie was sniffing the base of the trees where the footprints ended. She whined quietly. Jenny peered into the gloom. There was a small gap behind the leylandii and the wall. It was as dark as death, and every fiber of Jenny’s being told her to go back.
She squeezed into the gap.
The musty pine smell of the trees was cloying in her throat as she pushed through them. Once through, she found herself facing the dust red brick of the wall that enclosed the garden, and she could see a well-traveled path. It was just a few feet long, enclosed on one side by the trees and on the other by the wall. It was claustrophobic, and seemed pointless. She squeezed down the path, her curiosity forcing her onwards, even though her mind kept saying go back.
Rosie had squeezed in behind her, and that gave her the courage to keep going. In a few feet, she came to the end, and was stopped by conifers. On the wall directly behind them was a door of black wood so dark it seemed like a hole. All she could see was a brass handle.
Reaching out, she touched the handle. Shock pulsed through her as the warm brass seemed to vibrate in her hand. She pulled back, a sense of disquiet, and heaviness on her shoulders. Shaking them, she reached down to try again. The same sensation flowed through her, as if a mild electric current was running through the metal. She turned the handle and pushed, but it would not open.
Rosie barked a warning. Jenny released the handle, and felt instant relief. She turned and panicked. The passageway felt like a tomb, with the conifers scratching against her face like hungry corpses clawing out to hold her. She struggled to get around them, panic rising in the narrow gap as she grappled against the dense growth. Her breath came in urgent gasps, and her heart pounded as if it would burst. She forced her way through the trees, and at last she broke free. “Ahh.” Stra
ight into the arms of Robert.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Rosie wanted a walk, and we heard a noise.”
“You shouldn’t be here.” He grabbed her arm, and steered her towards the house.
“Damn it, Robert, you’re hurting me. Let go. And what’s behind that damn door?”
He dropped her arm. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
“The door.” She pointed at the conifers. “What’s behind the door?”
“Waste ground. I’ve not opened it in years. You shouldn’t be out here.”
“Rosie heard something behind there.” Jenny pointed at the conifers. “We have to check it out.” She was angry now, angry at her own panic, and something felt wrong. She stood her ground.
“It’s probably a fox. Now let’s get you back to bed. I was terrified something had happened to you.”
Tension left her shoulders, and she seemed to crumple in on herself as she realized how stupid she sounded. Suddenly she was overcome with fatigue, and stumbled against Robert. “Where’s Rosie?”
“Back in the house if she’s any sense, come on.” Robert turned, and guided them back towards the house, glancing over his shoulder as he did.
Chapter Fifteen
As the door closed it seemed to send a draft of ice splinters directly at Doris. Her lungs let go of their air, and all her fight left with it. Cold and hungry, tied naked to the post, her arms and shoulders throbbed with pain. The mist still surrounded her as if silently waiting, anticipating what was to follow. She eyed the pit with dread, hoping for release, that the pain would end, and this would soon be over. Yet she knew the terror that awaited her, deep within the pit was the snake. The vile serpent from her nightmares. The same creature that was tattooed between her breasts, and on all the ceremonial blades and paraphernalia dedicated to Aldona. Death would be a simple relief, but the pit held eternal torment, of this she was sure.
The hell bat watched. It turned its head slowly from side to side as if arthritis prevented free movement. She had forgotten him in her pain and despair, but he had not forgotten her. He stretched out his scrawny neck, and shrieked at the pit.
The sound seemed to reverberate through her bones, chilling and disgusting at the same time. Yet she felt a pinprick of anger deep within her core.
The bat’s excitement grew, and he recommenced his bobbing, side to side, up and down. Vicious long claws clasped and unclasped the perch as he danced from foot to foot, nodding his ugly, obscene head. Another screech pierced the air as light emerged from the hole.
Doris felt her anger grow. She would not give up. She would not die in this hellhole. She had to help Jenny.
Drool glistened on rat-like teeth, as the bat bobbed, up and down, side to side. His nose sniffed the air, wrinkling as he tasted it, his tiny white tongue poked out from a glistening mouth. Sightless eyes constantly traced a route from Doris to the pit and back again.
From within the seal a light rose upwards. It bathed the cellar in a warm almost comforting yellow. More and more light flooded out, forcing Doris to close her eyes against the brightness. She shied away, pulling against her restraints, moving as far from the pit as she could. The cold mist moved against her, and Doris’s eyes flew open. Her heart stopped, and then rose up her throat threatening to choke her.
The mist pulled back and parted, allowing the light to seep between it, and course over the cold bare floor. It covered the distance with stealth and control, as if it wished to delay its arrival. Through the parted mist ever closer the light came, bringing with it warmth, but not comfort. As it arrived in front of her, it seemed to rush into itself for a second increasing its density, and then it covered Doris in its warming glow. Heat bathed her naked skin. It was sensuous and relaxing as it caressed her aching muscles in an almost pleasurable manner.
Fear still chilled her soul as she glanced through the light back towards the pit. Something was coming, and terror and curiosity fought a battle within her. Only the warmth lulled her senses against her will. Doris wanted to stay alert, afraid, but a smile crossed her lips as she waited her fate, and finally welcomed what was to come.
The hell bat paused with its head cocked.
The room was silent. The mist formed a walkway between the pit and Doris. It formed a funnel for the light, which now covered her exposed body. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her breath was short and urgent. Yet she no longer felt fear. She shook her head, fighting the spell she knew enraptured her, and braced hard for what must come.
Out of the seal erupted a geyser of mist. It surrounded a darkness hidden within its gossamer depths, a shape, rising upwards, slowly, from the bowels of the pit.
Doris squeezed her eyes shut, fearing the creature that would emerge. The spell that held her moments earlier had just a few tentacles left in her mind. It told her to relax and enjoy, but she pulled against her restraints and the pain freed her mind. She imagined something more hideous than the hell bat, if not the snake then what? Her imagination ran riot, and showed her vicious teeth, leathery skin, and huge black claws. Biting down on her lip, she calmed herself, and forced her eyes open. Fearing this was the end, she cried out. She could taste the coppery blood from her bit lip, and she was shaking with pain, fatigue and fear.
The mist cleared. Bit by bit it evaporated. Before her, a dark shape was beginning to emerge. Slowly the fog dissipated, gradually moving, swirling the mist around her, teasing Doris with glimpses of the figure beneath. A length of black hair, a human eye, long black limbs, more and more was revealed. Doris held her breath, and her chest ached with the effort. Then, standing before her, was a beautiful raven-haired woman, clothed in black leather.
Doris gasped in surprise, and released her breath, along with some of her fear.
The woman was tall, athletic and stunning. She had the body of an action movie star, and was dressed as if she had just walked off said movie set. Her face was set, still. Her eyes were closed her hands by her side. She looked asleep, until the last of the mist cleared from around her. Then she flexed her arms above her head, her muscles tensed and leather creaked. Long black fingernails flashed in the light.
Pushing her head back, she exposed her throat. Still stretching, she breathed in, and opened her eyes. Black eyes bore deep into Doris’s soul, and she knew who this was.
Aldona smiled, and then walked down that tunnel of mist directly to her prey.
Doris’s mouth dropped open. Fear ran an icy finger up her spine, and as the woman approached, she was unable to move. The supple leather clad body strode towards her, its face impassive. Aldona stopped in front of Doris, her head cocked to one side. Twin Celtic bands were tattooed on her face, the figure of eight, and that fearsome snake entwined down each side of her cheek. As Doris watched, the two snake tattoos moved. Striking forward, they rose off her skin, and hissed at Doris, before returning to her face, a decoration once more.
The same mark on Doris’s body throbbed, as the woman approached her.
Stopping, Aldona stretched like a cat in the sunshine. A smile spread across her face, her eyes closed luxuriously. She bent her neck, side to side, working out the creaks with a slow, precise movement.
Doris could feel her heart, fighting in her chest like a captive animal. She saw Aldona’s eyes. Black irises, unblinking. They seemed to freeze her very blood.
“Hello,” Aldona said. “I’m hungry. Do you know what I eat?”
She extended her right hand, index finger pointing towards Doris. The long elegant digit stretched forward, the black nail an obscene extension of her finger.
Doris felt the finger touch her forehead, sliding smoothly across her skin, rubbing in a circular motion. The touch was soothing, mesmerizing before it slid down her skin, between her eyes, over the lump in her nose and off the tip. Sensually it ran across the clef beneath it before bumping over her top lip. Entering the wet cave of her mouth it gained moisture there.
Aldona dragged it over her bottom lip,
and down her chin to her throat. It left a slight trail of dampness behind it, and Doris imagined a huge black slug instead of the elegant finger.
Doris held her breath, and watched that digit as it disappeared beneath her chin, causing her to choke as it pushed into the hollow of her throat. She could feel a pulse throbbing at her temple, could feel her throat constricted by the finger pressed against it.
Aldona sighed, carnal pleasure spread across her face as her gaze also followed the finger. She left the throat, and traced the right collar bone.
Doris shivered. Her eyes followed the movement as far as she could.
The finger traveled along the collar bone, coming to rest just below the clavicle.
Doris cried out as the black nail extended, piercing her skin. Its end was sharp, cylindrical, like an oversized needle. It was forced through her skin and muscle, deep into her shoulder.
The pain was intense. Doris bucked against her restraints as fear and renewed agony gave her extra strength. It was useless. She couldn’t break free, and as the nail slid deeper into her shoulder, she started to relax. Her body weakened, her head fell forward, and her eyes were heavy.
She experienced a feeling of euphoria, and looked up into the black eyes of Aldona. Reverence towards the deity in front of her filled her head. She wanted to give herself over to sustain this magnificent creature. She heard a voice in her head telling her to fight, that this was a trick. The voice sounded like Alex. It told her again to fight, but she did not want to listen. She was tired, and the voice seemed very far off.
“That is your lymph node,” Aldona said, her voice husky and deep, “I am removing chyle, from within your lymphatic system. It’s a mixture of plasma, fats and protein. Very tasty.” Aldona licked her lips, closed her eyes, and smiled with pleasure.
Flee Page 10
