He stared at his own haunted expression for a few more minutes, his eyes filled with sorrow and guilt. Was this his past come back to haunt him? He closed his eyes and fought against the tears that threatened to consume him. It was not tears he needed but anger. He allowed it to build inside him, like an angry beast it threatened to control him, but he restrained it, and rode it down till it settled as a searing core that he could use to take his revenge.
Leaving the empty bathroom, he continued to search, first a store room and an office, then he found the staff room. There was a scruffy looking sofa, a coffee table and on the other side of the room, success, he had found the staff lockers. He crossed to the lockers, hoping someone had left some clothes. He opened the first and almost laughed when he found mortuary greens and safety shoes. He searched till he found some that looked the right size and pulled them on, disappointed that they reeked of cigarette smoke but grateful to cover his nakedness and pleased with the warmth they provided. “Now, all I need is a car.” His voice was rough and barely audible, yet it echoed in the empty room.
He turned from the lockers and spotted a fridge. Opening it, he saw a couple of yoghurts, a pork pie and a pint of milk. He drank the milk and ate the yoghurts; the smoothness of them eased the pain of his throat.
He left the morgue and walked through the quiet hospital. The corridors were partially lighted, but most of the rooms were in semi darkness. The place seemed deserted, and he saw no staff. He walked slowly from the hospital. His strength was fading fast and he stumbled out of the door and into the car park. The lighting was sparse, and left deep shadows between cars and the ornamental bushes that surrounded them. Wobbling a little he found a secluded spot, hunkered down in the dark and waited. He needed to find someone. He had to have blood yet the thought repulsed him, and he remembered his first human sacrifice.
He had been so happy, a beautiful wife, a healthy son and a lot of wealth. The years had merged together, he was blissful content. He did not see the trouble that crept into his life, slowly, unnoticed until it was too late.
His son Thomas was spoilt, a rich man’s son, able to do as he pleased. The mistakes he made always covered up by his father, but he had a temper. Had started to enjoy the beatings he gave the serving girls, knowing that no come back would result. Alex always paid off the girl, and their families, mostly they were happy it happened. Money, being more valuable than a daughter in those hard times, but eventually things went too far.
The girl had turned Thomas down, and this had made him more furious than ever. He struck her so hard, and beat her till she stopped moving. Alex had found him, covered in the girl’s blood. Thomas stood there his eyes wide; anger was still his main emotion. Alex had struck his son that night. Not physically, but with magic he had picked him up and knocked him back against the wall. He had never used his power in front of his family so Thomas was stunned. Alex held him there, two foot above the ground forced back into the wood paneling of the dining hall. He had held him, pinned to that wall, whilst he fought to bring his own rage back under some form of control. It would have been so easy to kill him there and then. At last, he let him fall to the floor, like the useless creature he was. The girl was already dead, and this could not be covered up.
In the end Alex had told the constabulary that a break-in had occurred, the girl discovered dead. But this incident had driven him away from his family he had thrown Thomas out of the house and drifted away from his wife. He had also turned to magic, using more and more, getting hooked on the rush that came with each sacrifice.
The following year, he returned early one day and found his wife in bed with another man. This final betrayal was what broke him. His son was a drunken bum who robbed and stole, having been thrown out of the family home.
It was a few years later when Alex was approaching his sixty-fifth birthday and his son was close to his thirtieth that Alex found out Thomas had killed again. That was when he decided to sacrifice him. The victim was another young girl, beautiful and innocent and Thomas had tried to force her.
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 sixty-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 spasm’s of pleasure as it stroked his new skin.
Later that morning he chopped his son into little pieces. Raising the axe 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 that day 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. He moved in close, smelling 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. 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 under control of his spell. He looked into those eyes and used a little more of his strength. “Sleep, forget, somnus oblivisci,” he whispered to her. 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. She closed her eyes, her body 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 life blood flowed into him. His emotions a mixture of greed, lust and guil
t, 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. He held her arm up to prevent the remaining blood from spilling, and then 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. He heard Helen’s voice inside his head. “Hurry, save her.”
He slid out of the car and 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 car, 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. He saw the path, one more turn and he would be close. It 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 before 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 travelled 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 oil 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 at a time, his fingers sinking into her skin and with each step her weight seemed to increase. It was as if she was surrounding him with flesh and pushing him faster and faster down. Half way 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 in 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, 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. 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 and with her head swimming looked around. 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. 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.
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