Amber StClaire And The Beast Of Sanur

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Amber StClaire And The Beast Of Sanur Page 9

by Brooke Dark


  By the time he is done Veronika touches him no longer. She sits back from him. Recoiled. Her hand cupping her mouth. Her eyes bulging. Tears streaming down her cheeks. Sobbing.

  He smiles… not from humour. Simply from someone who has nothing else left to hide. As if to say, So, there it is.

  Veronika lashes out and slaps him hard across his face. Sobbing, she rushes away along the beach…

  Sam does not go after her. Does nothing except sit there, lifting sand onto his palm, watching it fall between his fingers. Still, he says one thing to Amber before Amber departs. ‘Are you happy now?’ he says, looking across his shoulder at her. ‘You just ruined our marriage and our life together.’

  Amber smiles at him. ‘No, Sam, I’m afraid you ruined things long before I walked into your lives.’

  ♥

  ~ CHAPTER FOURTEEN ~

  VANISHING

  AMBER prepares for her night excursion. She wears the talisman she sometimes carries with her. Hanging it around her neck. She has with her the Darkblade, an alleged enchanted knife. A weapon she’s never had to use. She orders room service. She eats alone with CNN on the telly. She dresses appropriately. Her leather pants. Dark leather top. She places a frangipani flower on a small stone. She bows her head to it. Offers a prayer.

  The time is 9pm.

  She is about to leave when there is a knock on her door.

  She frowns.

  She goes to the door. Pulls it open. She’s surprised to see Sam standing there.

  He glares at her. ‘What have you done with her?’ he says angrily. ‘Is she here?’ He leans through the doorway. ‘Veronika,’ he calls into the room, ignoring Amber. ‘Are you here? Just tell me. I don’t care if you are. I just need to know you’re okay.’

  Amber is puzzled. ‘Veronika isn’t here, Sam. I haven’t seen her since she left us on the beach.’

  From where he stands he scours the room. Amber steps aside. ‘Take a look around if you don’t believe me.’

  He does just that. Amber waits where she is. Watches him rush from the main room, to the bathroom, to the outdoor private pool. Calling for Veronika. Asking for her.

  ‘What have you done with her?’ Sam demands. ‘Where is she?’

  Amber puts a hand up, urging him to calm down, to shut up. ‘Where did you last see her?’

  He doesn’t calm down. He’s looking about as if he’s the butt of some joke, as if Veronika is hiding there somewhere, smirking, giggling.

  ‘Sam,’ Amber says forcefully. ‘Tell me where you last saw her.’

  Sam does not look at Amber. He either ignores her or does not hear her.

  She takes his upper arm. Forcefully he tries shrugging her grip. Amber does not let go. ‘Where did you last see her?’ she asks sternly. ‘Tell me.’

  He’s breathing heavy. He says nothing. At least he eyes her now.

  ‘Sam, please. She’s not here. Honestly. Were you with her this evening?’

  He blinks. He gazes at the tiled floor. He nods. ‘Yeah. She came back to the room. She didn’t want to be there with me anymore. She checked into a new room. What could I do? I wanted to know if she would talk. She said she didn’t. I went back to my room but I couldn’t be there without talking to her. About half an hour ago I went back to her room. The door was open. She wasn’t there. I thought she’d come to stay with you.’

  Amber shook her head. ‘Sam, I wish I could tell you she was here, but she isn’t.’

  Veronika’s room is empty. The sheets on the bed are ruffled. Some items on the dresser look as if they’ve been knocked over. A bottle of water is spilt on the floor. Her bag and purse are there beside the bed. The TV is on.

  ‘Did you do any of this?’ Amber asks Sam. She searches his thoughts as she asks this. It’s likely he came to see Veronika, demanded she talk with him. He may have gotten inside her room, perhaps they’d fought. He may have hurt her. Or worse, killed her. Though Amber’s question opens his mind to the answers she’s after.

  ‘No. None of it. I haven’t touched anything.’

  She knows he’s telling the truth.

  She detects an odour then. Some rancid smell. Now she notices something peculiar. The residue of a strange footprint on the tiles on one side of the bed. A lump of a foot. As if there was only one toe.

  Amber ushers Sam back toward the door. Her eyes turn dark after he has backed his way outside. She sees the wake of a peculiar presence. Veronika had been resting. Something had entered. Something had ambushed her in bed. It dragged her out.

  She sees drops of blood now. Soaked into the underside of Veronika’s pillow. She lifts the pillow to her face. Sniffs it.

  Veronika’s blood.

  Quiet alarm rises in her now. The killer she’s been tracking… it was here. Right in this room.

  It took Veronika.

  Now Amber sees something else. On the dresser as if placed there. To her eyes it is almost aglow. She moves toward it. A small stone, she thinks. Left there. Something Veronika found on the beach? A keepsake? A souvenir?

  No. Something left here. Deliberately.

  Amber thinks it’s strange. Why now when nothing of its like has been found at any of the crime scenes? It’s almost as if the killer has been watching her, knows that she’s been trying to find it, has heard her speak, heard her say that she hopes to track it down. As if the killer’s saying, ‘Okay, come and find me, if you can. If you want me, meet me on my home turf.’

  Amber needs to act fast here. There is possible hotel CCTV footage. Accessing that however will eat up crucial time. She takes the stone into her grasp. As soon as she touches it, there’s no further doubt in her mind. It has been left here. For her to find.

  She places it in her palm.

  She kneels down.

  She shuts her eyes. Bows her head.

  Concentrates on the object. Absorbing its spiritual essence. She has done this but once or twice before. It has not always been successful.

  Externally the skin on her palms begins to smoulder. A peculiar vapour rises. She does not flinch at the pain. Sam watches, intrigued, repulsed. It is as if Amber’s flesh were like wet clay, the stone sinking into the upper layers of her skin.

  The darkness in her mind begins to lighten. She sees images of water. She sees the reef. Moonlight. She hears the surf. She sees fish beneath the waves. She sees Veronika. Dragged out into this watery world. Pulled beneath the surface. Down into this shallow reef. Down into a grotto.

  Unconscious.

  ♥

  ~ CHAPTER FIFTEEN ~

  MONSTER

  AMBER leaves the room, running. Racing toward the beach. Sam follows. ‘Where are you going?’ he calls out to her. ‘Where are you going?’

  Amber ignores him. There is no time to explain. She kicks off her shoes. Throws the stone aside. Enchanted blade at her hip. Talisman against her neck.

  She rushes off the beach. Into the shallow water. Pulling her athletic thighs through the light waves. When the sandy bottom gives way to coral and stone it is deep enough for her to swim.

  She is swift. Her legs move as one, a fish tail. As though they are suddenly without bones. Her arms are flat against her sides. Her eyes glow white. Almost green. Though it is dark, she sees the underwater world perfectly. Seeing mighty lumps of brain coral. A passing krait. Jagged rock formations. Sea slugs. Eel. Out to the reef the water is seven metres at its deepest. She swims without taking a breath for a hundred metres. Tracking the line of the beach. Heading south east. Five minutes… ten minutes… she feels she is getting closer. She paddles near the surface, gazing down into the watery, moonlit depths. Looking… looking…

  She sees something. A dark recess.

  She surfaces. Takes a deep breath and dives once more.

  The dark recess is hidden beneath a rock shelf. It must be ten metres deep here. A reef octopus hunts for food. There an incline in the seafloor. A slope between two outcrops of coral. It is virtually concealed by tall waving branches of coral. Here
she finds the entrance to some sort of cave.

  Tiny skeletal remains float here on string. Sewn and fashioned into crude ghastly dolls. The bones of human foetuses. A ghastly scene.

  She swims nearer. Touches the rock at the entrance. Hoping to get a sense of what lies within.

  Amber senses only death.

  She steals herself for what she will find. She withdraws her blade. Swims into the recess.

  The tunnel is jagged with rock. A moray eel darts out of a hollow, then retreats. Schools of small fish swim out of her way. The tunnel curves to the right and then drops downwards, vertical.

  Below her the cave opens, becomes horizontal once more before curving upwards and then levels out. She swims, trailing its course before emerging from the water into a grotto. She’s silent. Does not breathe for a short while. Staying perfectly still. Listening… listening… looking… watching… Water dripping from the jagged ceiling.

  No sign of the beast in the immediate area. Camouflaged or otherwise.

  Ahead of her, the cave narrows and beyond that, drops into darkness.

  More of those strange dolls hang here from the wet ceiling. From the jagged volcanic rock walls. Little bones. Little skulls with large hollow eye sockets. Tied with fish scales and what looks like old twine and bottle tops and syringes. Fish bones. The spines from sea urchins. Refuse washed up on beaches. Collected. Turned into sculptures.

  That’s not all. There are toys. Baby toys. Salt crusted wooden blocks. Rusted metal cars. Plastic dolls. Encrusted with barnacles. Covered in green sea slime. The grotto is lit. Bioluminescent critters cling to the jagged volcanic walls.

  She hunches over, moves forward. Her legs are legs again. She steps over sharp coral, barnacles, spiky shellfish.

  She heads deep into the grotto. Squeezes herself through the narrowed section. Water drips from the ceiling. Emerges into a larger cave system. Much of it lit softly by more bioluminescent creatures. The ceiling hangs with stalactites. The floor covered in spiny stalagmites. There are dark corners where the killer could be hiding. There are the bones of bizarre sea beasts. Unnatural things. Seahorses as big as dogs. Star fish that could smother a person, so large are they.

  She sees no sign of Veronika. Or the killer.

  Veronika is close though. Amber feels it.

  She picks her way deftly across the rocky floor, minding the stalagmites. There’s an alcove toward the rear of the cave. It bends beyond sight.

  Amber detects the scent of corruption and rot. She moves inside.

  It is vast. There is death everywhere here. Dead foetuses. The discarded rotting wombs from murdered women.

  A presence toward the rear. Some figure hidden in the darkness.

  Amber spies Veronika. She is sprawled across coral and volcanic rock. On her back. Her head lolled. Neck arched. Eyes half shut.

  Dead?

  Amber cannot tell.

  Dying?

  Very likely.

  Amber treads carefully.

  The figure hides in darkness. Amber sees its eyes. Keenly watching her. Yellow eyes in the gloom.

  ‘I have found you at last,’ Amber whispers.

  It speaks not.

  ‘Will you come willingly?’

  Still no response. Though Amber hears it mewling below its breath. There is an anger there, Amber senses. That she meddles in its mischief.

  She steps ever closer. Her priority is Veronika. Get her to safety. However, she does not expect the beast to simply allow her to snatch Veronika and run.

  The odour is stifling. Thick, meaty, humid, rank. She does not take her eyes from the figure.

  She steps closer still.

  ‘I know you hear me,’ she says. ‘I know you fear me. I feel your anger.’

  What are you? Amber wonders. What on Earth are you?

  She has had some experience with the dark creatures of the world. Though not as much as she would like. Not enough to tell her what this thing might be.

  She adjusts her sight, picking up other light spectrums. She sees the creature in pale ghost-light. She builds an idea of its physical nature. Stumpy toes. Toes that perhaps are more tentacle. Though stunted are they. It has snake fingers. Writhing, twisting, never still. A peculiar fishy face. Scaled. Wrinkled. Saggy breasts. Large goggling eyes. Teeth.

  Amber suspected something male. Yet it is female. An old hag of a thing.

  Amber probes its thoughts. They are terrifying. The twisted thoughts of a killer. The hag’s warped ideas that she might steal the wombs of virgins to create her own child. Warped, twisted, confused notions.

  ‘What you’re doing,’ Amber says. ‘It must stop. If you cannot stop, I will stop you.’

  No reply.

  ‘I know of sanctuaries where you could live out your days,’ Amber says. ‘Though, because you have killed, you will be detained there and the powers there will judge you and call down your sentence. If you wish to die then it will happen today. If you wish to plead guilty then I will detain you and I will not hand you over to human authority. Instead you will be escorted from this country, taken to a secret location. How do you plead?’

  The attack catches Amber off guard. It is swift, instant, ferocious. In a blur, the hag beast flies at her. Knocking Amber into the wall, dazing her, clouding her senses.

  When she comes to, snake-fingers are wrapped around her throat. Constricting. She cannot breathe. The hag is curled about jagged rock, half way up the wall. Amber can see its tentacle toes, worming in and out of rock holes. Its goggling yellow eyes watch her. No remorse. No mercy. No sympathy.

  Amber cannot shift the snake-fingers from her neck. Her efforts are futile.

  She attempts to assail her attacker with elf-light. She cannot summon it. Instead she reaches for her Darkblade. Slides it from its sheath. The hag does not anticipate this. With failing strength Amber pushes it into the hag’s chest.

  The hag screeches. Falls back. Though her grip on Amber does not loosen. As the hag falls, Amber goes with her.

  They crash into rock, coral, dead things. They roll, Amber brings up her blade, slicing it into the hag’s long fingers.

  The hag’s screech seems to go straight through Amber’s head. Yet, the hag’s grip has loosened. Amber kicks out at the hag’s scrabbling limbs, the hag desperately trying to regain hold of Amber.

  Amber stabs and slashes with her blade, the hag’s skin sizzling and steaming each time the enchanted blade makes contact. Amber retreats, gathering her breath. The hag clambers after her. Catching Amber in the next chamber, tackling Amber, taking her into the water. The creature holds Amber beneath the water’s surface, again gripping her neck, forcing Amber’s head down, fully submerged.

  Amber has dropped her blade. Her torso and waist and hips are above the water line. She struggles for some way out of this creature’s grip… now she picks up on its thoughts.

  It is eyeing her. It is assessing her. She realises it desires her womb. She feels its spare hand begin tearing at her clothing, ripping at her waist line, tearing the fabric at her thighs.

  Amber shuts her eyes. Goes prone. Concentrating. Stops struggling. Her skin changes. Hardens. Darkens. The runes on her skin give off a dull luminescence. When she opens her eyes they are white. An animal strength now fills her.

  The hag still holds her. Yet it remains distracted with extracting Amber’s innards. Though, before it is able to penetrate her, Amber lashes out in one sudden explosive motion.

  It catches the hag off guard. Amber grips the beast with her legs, clamping it in her thighs, using her body weight to drag the monster into the pool. It bashes its head against submerged rock. Momentarily dazed. When it regains some senses, it reacts in a fury.

  Amber’s animal strength counters it. She holds it there beneath her, forcing it down with her weight, keeping it there, her teeth gritted, brutish anger giving her added strength, anger at what this creature has done to so many innocent young women.

  It goes on struggling, wriggling, its snake-
fingers reaching out, snatching at Amber, coiling, snatching, coiling. With her spare hand Amber holds them at bay.

  Eventually… the hag’s struggles and wriggles weaken… and then cease. It may live in an ocean grotto, but it is like Amber, it breathes air.

  Eventually it can hold its breath no longer. It gulps water into its lungs. Drowning. Its evil desires quashed and gone for good.

  Breathing heavy, Amber does not immediately rise. The thing might be feigning death. She waits a minute. Two. Gathering her breath. Letting her pulse ease down. Enjoying the silence of the sea cave. The drip, drip of water.

  She eases herself from the beast slowly. Anticipating a surprise attack. None comes. She drags the corpse up out of the pool.

  She takes some moments to cast her eyes over it. A hideous creature. Suckered skin like an octopus. Mostly humanoid in form. Has probably fashioned itself as human to avoid too much scrutiny at night when traveling through Sanur. If someone has ever laid their eyes upon it, they may have thought it was a diseased person. Thus kept their distance.

  She can’t help but think of Brata. His claims about people witnessing a crippled old man or old woman present near crime scenes.

  Amber leaves it now. Turns and hurries away to fetch Veronika.

  She finds her again in the main part of the grotto. Kneels at her side. Veronika lies there unmoving. Eyes shut. Amber feels for her pulse. It’s there. Faint. Weak.

  Amber shuts her eyes, drops into deep thought. For a moment it’s as if Amber is convulsing. Her chest, her belly, heaving. She holds her hands to her chest. Her chest seems to glow from within. A glow that passes from her flesh, down the length of her arms, into her palms. She opens her eyes and gently pushes her palms against Veronika’s belly.

  The arcane glow appears to pass from her hands into Veronika. Veronika’s flesh glows for a moment… then the light fades…

  Veronika’s breath deepens, she stirs, her eyes flicker open. They do not focus.

  ‘Veronika,’ Amber says softly. ‘You are safe now. I have you. I have you.’

 

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