She felt the blade razor sharp as it sliced into her skin, a sharp pain followed by wetness.
He turned the blade so the cutting edge slid on the trickle of blood, spreading the redness towards her breasts and cutting into the material of her shirt. She felt the cold blade travel down her skin, felt its icy presence puckering her skin as it continued its voyage. Pulling, scraping, but not quite drawing blood.
He came to her blouse. The blade sliced through the material, meeting no resistance. It hesitated only slightly when it encountered her bra strap. One little push and the knife sliced through the fragile strap and traveled lower. Her body was rigid, frozen, and her mind wanted to scream, yet she could not move. Magic did not hold her this time, only terror, terror of the knife and of what was to come.
The knife continued its slow glide down her blouse, which fell apart with a silken whisper. It sliced down the material all the way to the waist-band of her black skirt. She shivered as the blunt edge of the blade glanced off her skin.
He stopped the blade, holding its blunt edge pressed into her skin. The steel was cold against her belly, indenting the flesh, with a dull pressure.
He pulled himself close to her, eye to eye, nose to nose, and mouth to mouth. He sneered at her. The stench of a fetid river bottom washed from him, choking her with disgust.
“You still need the bathroom Doris?”
“Yes.” She turned back and met his gaze without flinching. She would stay strong.
“Ok.” The knife span in his hand, the hilt now facing towards her. He punched hard into her bladder. The heavily ornate handle was like a brick as it hit home in her stomach.
Pain shocked her forward, and her bladder released itself spasmodically. Hot liquid poured down her legs, flooding her pants and skirt with her own urine. She flushed with shame and gasped for breath as the wind was knocked from her. She let her head hang down in defeat.
He turned away and laughed. “Smelly in here, don’t you think?” Walking behind her, he waved the knife back and forth. She could feel each time it came close as the air followed its passage. Towards her and away, towards her and away, with each passage she was caressed by the blades wake, and with each passage he got closer. His breath was hot on her ear. His smell of decay seemed to crawl over her shoulder like a small decaying beast. She closed her eyes, but the sight of the snake was in her mind, the terrible snake carved into that blade. She gritted her teeth and opened her eyes. There was no escape.
Then he struck. The blade sliced effortlessly from the waist band of her skirt up the back of her blouse. The thin material offered no resistance. She forced herself to remain still, as still as the pole she was tied to, still he caught the edge on her shoulder. She spasmed forwards as far as her restraints would allow a gasp of pain released from her lips. Somehow the pain helped centre her, bringing her back to the present, leaving the nightmare behind. The tattered blouse hung from her body.
He walked back around to watch her and reached out to pull the right side of the material, ripping it off her arms. The effort pulled the material down onto her wounds. Doris shrieked in pain. He laughed before reaching out and removing the left side of the blouse with the same movement. As it cut deep into the bleeding and feverish shoulder she bit down, determined not to scream and only a gasp escaped her lips.
Taking the knife one last time, he cut the shoulder straps from her bra, letting it drop to join the shredded shirt on the floor at her feet.
She stood half naked, determined to hold back her fear. The tattoo between her breasts throbbed. She could almost feel the snake moving on her skin. In one of her nightmares the snake had come to life and ravaged her. The dream left her sweating in fear and she was terrified that it would come true.
Standing in front of her, he pushed the knife into the waist band of her skirt. The cold surface slid down her stomach, causing her to gasp and squirm. The blade met resistance as it encountered her panties. He wiggled it, allowing it to slip under the material and into the crisp dark bush of hairs, nestled between her legs. She felt the cold of the blade on her delicate skin, felt it catch on her hair as he made his move. He pressed into the material, the blade slicing through them, the skirt dropping to the floor. Her panties hung, wet and clingy to her thighs. He pushed the blade towards each leg, cutting the material and allowed them to fall and join the rest of her clothes in a heap on the cold concrete floor.
“Now Doris, you are ready to meet, the love of my life, Aldona. That is her mark you bear and she will be hungry. Well, I think I’ll leave you two ladies to get acquainted.” He winked, spun on his heels and sauntered away. He climbed the stairs and disappeared from view. A sliver of natural light dusted the stairway with hope and then the door closed.
Chapter Fourteen
Jenny turned over and over in the strange bed. The covers seemed to grab her arms and legs and held her in a suffocating nightmare. Next to her Rosie’s strong muscular body was tensed in sympathy of her stress. The dogs short black nose rested on pure white paws, and she whined each time her mistress moved. To Jenny the night seemed to last forever and stretched on and on into those awful hours when darkness claimed the world and sucked the hope from life.
Tap, tap, tap. What? Jenny woke, startled and fuzzy from a light sleep. She reached down and stroked Rosie’s silky coat. The dog’s brown and red brindle fur was well hidden in the dark room, with only the flash of white on her head and paws clearly visible. But Jenny could feel she was tensed and ready for action. Rosie had also heard something
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 goose bumps. 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. 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.
She flattened herself against the wall, worried he would check on her and find her out of bed. Why was she worried? 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, her back against the wall. She leant her head on its solid surface. Her heart beat was still raised, 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.”
She stumbled across the semi-dark room and searched for her jeans and a t-shirt. She dressed quickly, careful to avoid making too much noise. She picked up her trainers and headed for the door. 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 corridor 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. She hated spiders and their creepy little legs.
She continued along the trail left by Rosie and Robert, 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. 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 leylandi 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 travelled 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. She could feel 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.” Straight 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 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 pin prick of anger deep within her core.
His 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 clo
se her eyes against the brightness. She shied away, pulling against her restraints, moving as far from the pit as she could. Her heart felt like it stopped, and then it rose up her throat and threatened to choke her.
The mist 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 it came. She could feel warmth emanating from the light. 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. She could feel its heat bathing her naked skin. It was sensuous and relaxing as it caressed her aching muscles in an almost pleasurable manner. She glanced through it, back towards the pit, fear and curiosity fighting an equal battle within her. Relaxing, 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.
Flee Page 9
