Flee

by Caroline Clark

  So, on Thomas’s thirtieth birthday Alex invited his son to meet him, saying that they would reconcile, and discuss the boy’s legacy. Taking him down to the woods Alex had made the sacrifice. He had felt nothing, the boy was drunk, and filthy, and had followed him into the clearing a look of pure greed on his idiotic face.

  As the life left his son, his eyes closed in agonized horror, Alex felt the surge of power hit. It knocked him to the floor, coursed through him, and built to a crescendo to leave all his previous sacrifices wanting. The feeling was pure euphoria, every fiber in his body tingled with pleasure, he rose upwards with it riding the wave like some magical beast. Just as he thought he would explode from pleasure, he dropped to the floor unconscious.

  When he woke, he felt different straight away, he had been fifty-five, and when he looked down, he saw the body of a twenty-year-old. The ecstasy was still with him. His body felt like a fine-tuned machine. At each movement of his muscles a thrill ran down his spine. He remembered dancing in the clearing, the sun filtering through the canopy of trees, causing spasms of pleasure as it stroked his new skin.

  Later that morning he chopped his son into little pieces. Raising the ax, and bringing it down into his own flesh and blood. Each chop carved another gruesome chunk from the body, later he carted the pieces back to the barn, and fed them to the swine. He expected to be horrified, but he felt nothing; the boy was a killer and got what he deserved.

  Alex left the village and never looked back.

  Alex heard approaching footsteps, they brought him back to the present. A woman’s heels tap-tapped across the tarmac. He was hidden in the shadows, but the foliage of some scratchy plant kept rubbing his scar. He wanted to thrash at it, but he kept still. Like a hunter he must wait patiently watching to see where she would go. She pulled her hand out of a shoulder bag, and waved keys at a Renault parked just over to his left. The car beeped, and the lights flashed as the doors unlocked. She looked confident, with short, spiky red hair.

  A long black coat covered her nurse’s uniform the collar turned up against the chill night air. She reached for the door handle, oblivious of him as he crept up behind her.

  He mumbled, “Duratus sed incolumem esse,” and she stopped, frozen, as if he had paused a movie.

  She was a lot shorter than him, maybe five foot four, and a little on the plump side. Moving in close, he could smell her musky perfume, mixed in with a little sweat. He guessed it had been a long shift.

  He slipped his hands under her arm, feeling them catch on the material of her coat. Picking her up, he slid her into the back seat, and pushed her legs around so she was sitting up. Then he climbed in behind her. The back of the car was cramped, and smelt of new plastic. The smell was nauseating, and he felt his resolve slip, but he knew he must do this… he had to do this to save his daughter.

  Alex reached out, taking her shoulders, and maneuvering her till she lay across his lap. Her frightened eyes stared up at him. It was the only thing she could move, the only thing not controlled by his spell. He looked into those eyes, and used a little more of his strength. “Sleep, forget, somnus oblivisci,” he whispered to her. As her eyes closed, he stroked her forehead tenderly as another pang of guilt sat heavy in his stomach.

  She was warm and clammy against him. Her breath was fast and harsh, but began to slow as the spell took effect. Eyes closed, her body was now soft and pliable in his arms. Relaxing a little, he slipped her left arm out of the coat. The movement was difficult in the close confines of the car. The coat seemed to fight him as his own guilt was fighting his resolve. He had to do this. Jenny was in danger, and without his strength she would die.

  She popped free of the coat exposing the pink flesh of her lower arm. He mumbled, “Sorry,” before lifting that warm arm to his mouth, and sinking his teeth deep into the vein of her wrist.

  Blood poured from the wound. It coated his throat with its healing warmth. Alex sucked greedily, feeling his power and health return as her lifeblood flowed into him. His emotions a mixture of greed, lust and guilt, he needed this. Must have it to find Robert, and stop his murderous spree. But he had promised Helen and Simon he would never drink human blood again. His emotions were swirling round and round inside his skull, threatening to explode. Up and down, the justification of his actions to save his daughter followed by a view of Helen’s face. Promise me.

  He could feel the pulse, at first strong, but as he continued to drink, it was slowing, weakening. He was compelled to take her blood, just a little more. He wanted to stop, must stop, but the blood was so good, and his body craved it. Like a crack addict, he was a slave to the desire.

  Her pulse was much slower now, erratic and weak. At last he withdrew his mouth and sat up. Energy surged through him. The loss of her blood was like a physical pain, and he had to fight to prevent himself from returning and draining the last of her life. He had to fight to stop himself from killing her. He smiled. The feeling was so powerful, so euphoric. It was hard to come back down. Holding her arm up to prevent the remaining blood from spilling, he ripped her blouse to make a bandage, which he bound tightly around the wound.

  At last he regained his senses, almost vomiting as he realized the awful thing he had done. Tears slid down his face to land on her arm, mixing with the trace of blood that remained.

  Helen’s voice sounded inside his head. “Hurry, save her.”

  Sliding out of the car he pulled her towards him. Picking her up, he ran back to the hospital. She’s heavy. A dead weight, he thought, and then. Oh God I hope not.

  He backed through the doors into Accident and Emergency. “Help, someone, there’s been an accident.” He placed the girl down, and hearing the place come to life behind him he walked out.

  Chapter Twenty

  Robert pulled the Omega into a copse of trees that guarded the rear of his property. The tires bumped over the uneven ground as he squeezed the car through a narrow gap. Leaves and branches rattled along the side of the vehicle, like skeletal fingers, reaching out to prevent the metal beast from entering.

  Once inside the thicket, the trees’ green leafy crowns hid the car from prying eyes. He turned off the headlights, able to find the path with just the glow from the car’s side lights.

  He negotiated his way through the woods, weaving across the rutted ground, avoiding places he knew to be tricky. The car bounced over a particularly big rut, and the girl next to him slipped slightly, a sigh exiting her lips. He glanced down. He must hurry. There was the path, one more turn and he would be close.

  This was a route he had used before. More branches reached down to grasp at the passing car before he turned right around a huge sprawling oak, bringing the car close to the red brick boundary wall at the rear of his property. He parked the car, turning to smile at the unconscious girl next to him. It was still dark, and the shadows made it harder to see, but he had done this many times, and was confident when he exited the car.

  He took the keys from his pocket, the ring jingling in his fingers as he searched for the right one. The door he approached was partially hidden by a rhododendron. The huge bush with its dark waxy leaves was not currently in flower but it shielded the door from any unwanted eyes. Not that anyone would come here anyway. The woods were on the edge of the village, away from anything. There were no paths for dog walkers, and the kids were happier at the pub, which was a good distance from these lonely trees.

  He found the door, sliding the key in easily, even in the dark. The lock turned smooth and easy, and the door opened inwards without a sound. He flicked on the light switch, chasing back the shadows from the wooden steps before him. He chuckled, imagining how he would be getting the corpulent prostitute down those stairs.

  Back at the car, he reached across the unconscious girl, struggling to undo the seat belt as her weight locked it in place. The smell of her sweat and cheap perfume caused him to wrinkle his nose in disgust. “If Aldona whines about your fragrance, I may just forget about all this.” She didn’t
answer. Her unconscious form was held back against the seat with her head flopped over to the right.

  Seat belt free, he grabbed under her armpits. His fingers sunk into the folds of her flesh. The tacky warmth was nauseating, the material, a cheap Lycra, rough against his fingers. Bending his knees, he hauled her body from the car, her huge legs bumping over the sill, leaving one shoe in the wheel well. Her feet dropped to the forest floor, allowing her full weight to descend into his arms.

  Gasping he straightened. Pulling her back against him, her head resting on his chest, he reached around, kissing her ear. “Come on, darling, let’s have a good time.” He chuckled, his repugnance forgotten as he pulled her towards the door.

  Her feet dragged across the forest floor, pulling sticks and leaves with them as they traveled the short distance. The second shoe was lost in the undergrowth, and he made a mental note to remember to collect it. As he dragged her, he could see her stockings tearing against the grabbing branches. White holes appearing in the black, like little islands in an oily sea. He laughed. Under other circumstances he would find the ripped stockings very sexy.

  He could feel her breathing, her body warm against him, her scent almost suffocating.

  A collection of leaves and twigs had gathered at her ankles by the time they arrived at the wall. He swung her around the door, grunting with the effort causing a bead of sweat to appear on his own brow. Through the door, he backed onto the stairs, giggles barely suppressed as he imagined the picture he must make. Heedful, he placed a foot on the first step, his back to the drop. He started down the stairs one step at a time. Her huge bulk pushed against his chest, and seemed to force him down the stairs. He took one step, his fingers sinking into her skin, and with each step down her weight seemed to increase. It was as if she was surrounding him with flesh, and pushing him faster and faster down the steep stairs.

  Halfway he dug his heels in and stopped, his breath fast, heart beating with the effort. “At least you’re giving me a workout,” he whispered into her ear.

  He pushed her head off his chest, letting it fall forward. A moan escaped her lips. She tried to raise her head, before lapsing back against him unconscious.

  “Oh, oh, time to get you chained up, my pretty.” Robert stepped back, continuing his descent. With each pace, her stocking feet slid off the tread, and bounced onto the next step with a thump. Nice feet, he thought as they reached the bottom.

  They turned right, Robert hurrying now. He could see Doris in front of him fastened to the post. They approached her from behind. She was slumped forward, held only by the restraints, her arms stretched, head resting against her shoulder. She did not move. He pulled the tubby woman to one side of Doris, and dropped her against the wall. She slumped to the floor, her head bouncing on the concrete, but her eyes remained closed.

  Reaching up, he stretched his back before bending, and clamping her wrist with the chains fixed to the floor. The cold metal rattled as he pulled her hands into the clasps, and secured them with a lock. He shook them, checking they were secure. As he stood up she moaned, a small forlorn sound, and then she lay still and quiet.

  Robert scoured the cellar for the Aldona. He was eager to present his latest gift. He felt a spark of anger to see her still lying on the altar, watching him her face impassive.

  He skipped across to her, best to keep things happy. “I brought you food, and if you don’t mind me saying, you won’t get much bigger than this.”

  Tossing back her hair, she licked her lips and stood. The movement was smooth, fluid. She rose as if strings had hauled her to her feet. “Goody.”

  “I have to leave now, to prepare for the ritual, is there anything else you require?”

  She moved to him, appearing to cross the distance in an instant. The movement caused him to gasp with surprise.

  Standing before him, she scrutinized his face, moving her elegant neck around as she searched his features. Satisfied, she brought the index finger of her right hand to his lips, black nail upwards. She pushed between his lips, forcing them open, the finger sliding into his moist orifice. His eyes widened, heart beating so fast it might burst. He wondered if she would tease him or toss him aside, bored with this world. A pinprick of fear slid into his mind, knowing she could snuff out his life as easily as she could grant him immortality.

  She slid the finger into his warmth, the sensation erotic. He smiled, his eyes tracing her beautiful body. He sucked on the digit, feeling a tickle in his groin. His grin widened. She pulled the finger, sliding it across his tongue, nearly exiting the wet hole, and then pushed it back. His breathing was coming quicker, pleasure showed in a childish grin on his face. She pushed the finger in slow easy movements, she pulled out. His warm moist orifice sucked hungrily on the digit. His smile was broad, his breath fast, and a warm glow rose from his groin to his face. This was not so bad after all. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation. She pulled the finger slowly out, rubbing the sensitive skin on the inside of his mouth, and then whipped it left, the talon piercing his soft palate. Blood gushed onto the nail, sucked instantly up by that greedy appendage.

  “Damn.” He jerked back, her finger plopping as it released from his mouth. Staring, he watched as she sucked the digit, eyes closed, joy lighting up her face.

  She turned from him, and wandered over to the waiting girl.

  “I’ll see you later then,” Robert said, heading back to the stairs, his tongue stemming the flow of blood.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mary lifted up her head. It felt groggy, and she remembered something about an injection. But what was it and where she was? Her head ached, and her throat felt thick and dry. She tried to swallow. Unable to form any saliva, she coughed. The hoarse sound echoed in the dank gloomy room.

  She remembered, the car, the man, Robert. She bolted upright. The cold floor was harsh against her stocking legs. She tried to stand, falling back as a wave of nausea threatened her. She sat back down with her head swimming, and her feet burned with pain.

  The room was semi-dark, and she could see very little, just shapes. It was a large area, and she was close to the wall. She fought back her panic and looked around for her attacker. Was he waiting? As she tried to move, the chains stopped her, jerking her arms, and pulling her back to the floor. She checked her wrists. They were chained, and she cried out in terror. This was her nightmare; some madman had taken her.

  Her wrists were fastened to a ring in the concrete, the chain allowing her some movement, but not enough to mean anything. She pulled sharply, testing the ring. It jarred her arms. She was fixed solid.

  She wanted to scream and shout, but she felt weak and tired and slumped back down. The room was cold, her legs and buttocks were numb, and sore from contact with the abrasive concrete, and her feet ached. They felt like they had been beaten. Reaching down, she rubbed them, the movement difficult in the confines of the chains. They felt a little better. She adjusted herself on the floor, pulling the short black skirt down as far as it would go. Her considerable bulk caused her to pant with the effort. Hauling backward, she leaned against the wall. Closing her eyes, she tried to calm the pounding in her head. She had to think of what she could do, how she could escape.

  Though panic clawed at her chest, she knew she must be calm. She had been on a course for workers in her trade who got into trouble. The main thing she learned was to stay calm. All they had said for two very boring days was keep calm, and you may find a way out of things. She took in a deep breath and held it. She would get out of this, she had to. Her head was still pounding, and she closed her eyes, telling herself over and over keep calm, keep calm. She rested like this for a minute, the pain reduced, and her breath returned. Only the cold floor and chains caused her discomfort. She knew she would be missed, but did anyone see her attacker, and would anyone talk?

  Opening her eyes, she noticed the Aldona’s feet. Beautiful black leather boots and elegant ankles, stood before her. The leather was really good quality. She love
d shoes, and for a second wanted to touch the boots. Shaking her head, she remembered this was not a shopping trip. Slowly, she looked up, working up the woman’s body. More leather, all that same texture. It looked so real it could almost be alive. The leather clung to the woman’s body supple and tight like a second skin. She felt a stab of envy at the figure before her. Gradually, she lifted her eyes over the hourglass waist, across the ample breasts, until she was gazing into her penetrating eyes.

  “I’m Mary, can you help me?” she asked.

  “My name is Aldona, you are my treat.” The woman licked her fingernail, sucking on it hungrily.

  “I don’t know what you mean. Some crazy guy brought me here, and I have to escape.” Don’t use inflammatory language. Let her know you are a person, she remembered from the course. “I have to get back. My daughter, Sara, will miss me.”

  “You are lovely, just the right size for my needs.” Aldona stood in front of her, and raised her left hand. Mary rose off the ground to come up right in front of the woman.

  Eyes wide with terror, she struggled against the force holding her. “Let me go, you bitch.” She thrashed her head side to side as tears formed in her eyes. Her body would not move. She hung there, two feet off the ground, as high as the chains would allow. “Let me go, please don’t hurt me. I have a daughter. She’s called Sara. She’s only three. You have to let me go.”

  Mary watched as Aldona reached out towards her. The athletic arm with its black fingernails that were manicured to perfection. The hand touched her chin. Mary felt a shiver run down her spine, and she whimpered in fear. “Please, don’t hurt me, I won’t tell, Please.”

  “Who’s there?” Doris’s voice echoed from across the cellar.