Depravity

by Woodhead, Ian

  She managed a small nod.

  “Good girl,” he said, watching her legs part. How long did they have before that fucking psycho realised that he'd just ran down the corridor without any pants on?

  Anna pulled up her leg and dropped the other man's trousers on the bed. David suppressed a triumphant grin at the sound of something in those pockets rattling, it might not be the keys, that sound might just belong to some loose change. He looked fearfully at the open door, knowing time wasn't on their side. Use your head to push them up the bed, honey! Come on, hurry up, that fucker will be back any moment.”

  She let out a muffled groan and gazed at him.

  “Anna, come on!”

  The woman nodded and did as he asked. The trousers edged closer to his head. As soon as he was able, David grabbed the material in his teeth and lifted his body as far as it could go before opening his mouth. A set of keys fell out of one of the pockets and onto his chest. “There we go,” he whispered. “Okay, push them over to my hand.”

  She nodded again and used the tip of her nose to get the keys off his body and across to his fingers.

  “We're nearly there, honey. Just another couple of inches!”

  Anna lifted her head and gave him a tired smile. It was the last thing she ever did.

  David screamed as a wooden bolt slammed into the side of his wife's head. The woman fell forwards, onto his stomach. He shook his head in disbelief, unwilling to believe this was really happening. Thick, dark red blood seeped out from around the bolt and dripped onto the top of his thigh.

  “What did I tell you, Angela? Just look at that man's poor face. Unbelievable. So much distress caused and we haven't hurt a hair on his body.”

  David turned his head, watching the hotel owner framed in the doorway. He cradled a crossbow in both hands. There was somebody else with him now, a blonde woman whom David had never seen before.

  The man walked up to the foot of the bed. “That was quite impressive. Your will to survive is remarkable.” He reloaded the crossbow and aimed it at his face. “By the way, your son now belongs to us.”

  “I'll see you in hell, you fucking bastard cun...”

  Kevin Morris pulled the trigger. “Already been there,” he replied, giggling.

  5

  He sat in his favourite armchair, sipping the most expansive champagne in the hotel. On the table, next to him, the other glass was already empty. Kevin had no idea where Angela had gone. After she had gulped down hers, she'd demanded more, proclaiming it to be the best juice she'd ever tasted. She had marched off in a sulk when he'd refused. There was still a lot of work he needed to do with that one.

  Kevin couldn't understand why he felt so despondent. Euphoria ought to be coursing through his veins. The great purge was over, he and the woman had cleared the hotel of guests. Sure, half the rooms now resembled explosions in red paint factories but that didn't matter. His cleaning materials would soon make short work of the mess.

  Even adding in the time taken with his amusing distraction with the ex-soldier, it only took the pair of them just under one hour to kill every guest. With the exception of the little boy of course. He was down in his new home. Could he be the source of this apathy? Kevin admitted privately that it took a great deal of effort not to kill that kid. One look into those eyes brought back all that unrelenting agony that the spirit wearing Alistair's face put him through. If Angela hadn't been next to Kevin, he knew he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from throwing the little brat down those steps. That was another thing, why didn't he struggle?

  He and the woman took Alistair away from his parents. They walked him past all the open doors, each one containing their recent butchery and yet he never said a single word. Alistair didn't even object when Kevin opened the cellar door. Like some good little sheep, the brat calmly made his way down the steps while Kevin closed and locked the door. No, that wasn't proper behaviour at all.

  Kevin placed the now empty glass on the table and resisted pouring himself another one. If he denied her a refill then he couldn't have one himself, that would make him such a hypocrite. This felt like the calm before the storm, yet how could that be? Kevin had thought of everything, he'd left nothing to chance.

  If he'd left nothing to chance, then why did that feeling persist? He stood up and walked over to the fireplace. More importantly, what was he supposed to do now? He had expected the spirits to be here by now, to tell both Kevin and Angela what they expected of them. No, something wasn't quite right, Kevin must have missed something, some small detail.

  He looked up at the sound of clattering footsteps. It sounded like his new wife had finally found something to put on her feet. He vaguely wondered whose shoes she'd stolen. His guess was the soldier's pretty wife. Angela didn't look to happy when he explained his plan to her. Jealousy maybe? Kevin didn't see how, considering what she must have done to Mr Huge Penis, when she was still locked in that cellar.

  He was going to go for Anna's shoes. If she had squeezed her feet into them he'd even pour her another glass of juice. It seemed like a fair deal.

  The woman ran into his study, she didn't look at all happy. He bypassed her emotional looking features for a moment to see if he'd won his own bet. Kevin smiled to himself and reached for the champagne, people were so predictable.

  “Kevin, we have guests at the door!”

  He froze. “You've got to be fucking joking!” Kevin pushed past the woman and looked out of the window. “Fucking hell! Go upstairs, right now and shut every door. Once you've done that, I want you to stay up there until I say otherwise, do you understand?”

  She nodded and looked down at the floor. “Yes, Kevin,” she replied meekly.

  Kevin waited until she was safely out of the way before moving towards the front door. He put on his well-worn hotelier's face, and opened the door to two young women. Kevin liked the look of both of them. “Are you okay?”

  “I'm so sorry about this,” said the blonde. “Our car just conked out right outside your hotel. No matter what I tried, the damn thing just won't start.”

  He looked past the women's pretty little heads, at the very expensive grey range rover. Very nice indeed. “Oh, I'm so sorry! Where are my manners? Come in, the pair of you. Lord, you must be freezing. The phone is over there on the desk. The reception around here isn't that great though, I'm afraid.”

  “Thank you,” said the blonde. She turned to her friend. “Look, I'll give Michael a call first, Fern. Just to tell him and your Trevor that we're both okay. The guys must be worried sick!”

  The woman now known as Fern nodded her head. Kevin liked her the best. That's not to say that he wouldn't enjoy playing with the other woman, but he couldn't shake that notion that she belonged to the town. It couldn't be though, although Kevin might have only been able to place a few of their faces, each and every one of the degenerates who lived close by had with them a presence, a stink of ownership. Kevin sighed to himself. He probably had that stink as well. The woman not called Fern didn't know him, nor was she familiar with his hotel, those facts were perfectly clear.

  Just to be on the safe side, Kevin would only take Fern. Despite the fun and games he had tonight, caution was still his watch word. He just needed to come up with a reason to separate them, perhaps even to get the blonde out of his hotel, preferably without suspicion. Kevin kept his eye on the blonde who, as expected, wasn't having much luck with the connection, no shock there. The phone service didn't work that great during the day. After nightfall, it hardly ever worked.

  Kevin followed his gaze across to the open door that led to his study, still trying to work out how to separate them. The champagne might help. He almost lost his genteel hotelier expression when he noticed little Alistair standing in the spot that he had previously vacated.

  It couldn't be the real one, there was no way he would be able to get out of that cellar unaided. Kevin spoke from experience there. Would Angela let him out? He remembered how weird she got when it came to n
ew possessions. No, not even she would be that idiotic. Besides, by now, that kid would be filthy. The dirt down there was insidious, it infected your very pores, and the little boy by the fireplace literally shined.

  His fears dissipated when the other one, his younger self leaned around the edge of Kevin's armchair, although his relief did dampen a little when he spotted that the little bastard had already helped himself to some of his very expensive champagne.

  For a start, his younger self was way too young to be drinking alcohol. “Can I get you two ladies a warm drink whilst you're waiting?”

  “Oh, yes please,” replied Fern. “Two coffees would be super, if that's okay?”

  He let out a disarming chuckle. “Not a problem. Now, if you'll excuse me?” Kevin hurried into the study and clicked the door shut. Kevin didn't think the women would be able to see the two apparitions but he wasn't taking any chances, not now.

  Kevin also decided that he would ask the two boys if he could keep not just the sexy Fern but also the other one as well. Doing that Anna earlier had showed him just how much fun it really could be. Now, he believed that he was closer to understanding his pretend dad's sexual urges. The excitement of being fully in charge of a situation, and seeing the fury and terror in another person's eyes really does boost the libido. He couldn't see how the two boys would even be able to refuse his request. Not after what he'd done for them tonight.

  If Kevin was going to be truthful, even if it was only to himself. Kevin didn't really wish to fuck Angela again. That thought he had earlier about the cellar dirt getting into every skin pore really did apply to her. She smelled funny, like she had grown out of one of his pretend mum's raised beds.

  “Hello there, chaps,” he said, keeping the genteel hotelier expression on his face. Kevin wanted to keep the tone light here. He really did want to keep those two women. “You both look fantastic, by the way. I'm guessing that the fun and games that myself and my new wife, your two servants, had here helped in some way?”

  “Alistair looked at the boy and they both stared past Kevin and stared at the closed door. “What are we going to do now?”

  The boy shook his head, then drained the last of the liquid in the glass. “So, they were right after all, our farmhouse is occupied.”

  “How did we not know this?”

  Kevin had no idea what they were talking about. All he knew that while these two were muttering on, his two women would soon be wondering where those drinks were. “Excuse me. Erm, both of you. I am here you know, standing here, wondering why you're not talking to me.” Perhaps they couldn't see him? Kevin hadn't considered that thought. Maybe, just maybe, these two thought they were somewhere else and were having a private conversion, not knowing that he was listening in. He counted to five slowly, waiting for one of them to acknowledge his existence.

  As weird and as exciting as this was, Kevin still needed to get those two coffees made. There was no way he could allow his two new sex-toys to leave his hotel. He stopped dead, realising what he'd just said. Kevin grinned. It looked like his subconscious had already made the decision for him. Kevin was going to have the pair of them after all. This was so exciting.

  “Why does the idiot have that stupid grin plastered across his face?” asked the boy.

  “Stay where you are, you fucking clown,” growled Alistair. “This is all your fault.”

  “How can you be sure of that?” Kevin's younger self poured another glass of champagne. “I'll agree that of all the avatars we've used over the millennia, this is pretty far down on the food chain but he's still useful. I'll grudgingly admit that you've done a good job in reshaping him. We'll be able to use the pair of them without worry now.”

  “It's not the future that worries me,” replied Alistair. He glared at Kevin. “It's the past. The ones at the farmhouse are going to be big fucking trouble. How do you think they were able to evade our attention?” He threw up his arms. “I'll tell you how, the bastards had help.”

  “Can I make that coffee now?” asked Kevin. “Only I think those two women might be wondering where I had gotten to.”

  This was bad, this was oh so bad. Kevin still had no idea what those two were talking about. It didn't matter though, he saw the signs. The two boys meant him harm. Unlike the torture, there would be no underlying message. Kevin was in big fucking trouble. They walked over to him, his perception changing by the second. Without him understanding how they'd done it, Kevin found himself looking up at their glowering face. So much for keeping the tone light.

  “Look inside that mass of depraved jelly, this creature really is the epitome of what we've tried to achieve.” The boy smiled at Alistair. Don't you think it's ironic that after such a long time, our answer has always been there, right under our noses.”

  Alistair rubbed his bottom jaw. “Look at the dull light behind his tiny eyes. He really has no idea what is happening.” Alistair rested both his hands on the man's shoulders. “It's quite simple. You fucked up. Not today. Your massacre was most enjoyable, even if you did play with our food despite receiving explicit instructions to kill the dangerous one first.”

  “I'm sorry, I really am. Please don't hurt me again?”

  “Shut up, Kevin. Look, all those people you killed for us...”

  “There weren't that many,” muttered the boy.

  “Okay, the few that you killed, Kevin. Well, some of them escaped. Don't look at me like that, you moron. I'm obviously not talking about their physical bodies.”

  “Did you scan the women?” asked the boy.

  Alistair nodded. It was my first act. I take it you've just done the same?”

  “The one called Jodie lives at the farmhouse with her husband.” He shivered. “I find it difficult to comprehend how such a damaged soul is able to heal.”

  “That healing process is far from over, my friend. I'll admit, the fact she is able to show signs of repair is a surprise. Right now though, she is still very much a prize.” Alistair gently lifted Kevin up. “I don't want you to worry about anything. We're not going to hurt you. Also don't you fret about the two women leaving, that's not going to happen. In fact, your wife is right now looking after them. Now perhaps you should sit down in your armchair and finish off that champagne.” He turned to Kevin's younger self. “You do know that this Michael, the one who caused all the uproar in town will be coming here.”

  “I hope so. Even now, that soul is worth more than all the souls we've consumed in the past decade.”

  “I agree, but there's no way this fool and his new wife will be able to take care of that one. He's even more dangerous than the soldier.”

  The boy walked over to the door and pulled it open just a crack. “Then we get help. What's the point of having supplicants if you can't use them?” The boy turned and smiled at Kevin. “Then we purge again. These walls will soon be ringing with the shrieks of the dying. It is going to be fucking glorious!”

  Chapter Eight

  The End of the Line

  The last dull yellow light had extinguished exactly three minutes ago. Michael's remaining beacon from the town now joined its comrades in slumber. All that remained in this rectangle was utter blackness. He kept his face pressed against the cold glass, knowing that if he moved back, Michael's anguished face would be there to taunt him. At this moment, he wouldn't be able to deal with that, not without slamming his fist through this fucking window. He already had enough anguish vomiting from Trevor's mouth.

  He'd shaken the goon out of his drunken sleep only five minutes ago. According to Trevor, Michael was a complete cunt for doing that for he now had a hangover that could floor an elephant. His growls only altered their tones when Michael explained that the girls still hadn't returned. He was still waiting for the apology.

  Seven o'clock came and went, so did the next hour. At nine, Michael abandoned his plan to scout the hotel, and started to get in touch with Jodie. He let the man who'd managed to consumed three quarters of a bottle of single malt to sleep it o
ff, figuring having another male worrying wouldn't be a great idea.

  “Still no sign of them, Michael?”

  “No. I have an idea, why don't you try ringing Fern's mobile again? It must be at least four minutes since you last tried.”

  “I guess.”

  Sarcasm was wasted on a man still recovering from alcohol abuse, just like tolerance was wasted on him. “Are you ready yet, Trevor? You can try again when we're moving.”

  “Jesus, man. Look, it's only just past midnight, they're probably still in a pub, or maybe they've crashed at your old place. Right now, the pair of them will be finishing off yet another bottle of wine while laughing like idiots.”

  Michael mentally threw a bucket of ice water on the fury that erupted after those mealy lame words fell out of Trevor's mouth. That shithead was only thinking about his own well-being, the fact that he just wanted to go back to bed and sleep off the booze.

  What else did Michael honestly expect from Trevor? He could hardly tell the fella about the visions, about ghosts visiting him, that the reason why Trevor felt like crap was due to the amount of malt Michael poured down the man's throat. “Are you ready to leave yet?”

  Trevor sighed. “In a minute, man. Jesus, let me come round.”

  “Right, just don't take all fucking night about it.” Michael brushed past him and left the man to feel sorry for himself. Right now, he was ready to leave him here. In fact, he had no idea why he'd woken him up in the first place. Hell, what good was he going to be anyway? Michael expected trouble, that much was pretty fucking obvious. The last thing he needed was some dizzy-minded clown getting under his feet. The man would be a liability, a danger to himself, Michael and the mission.

  He paused, not too sure where those thoughts had come from, he and Trevor were just going to take a ride to see if they could find the girls. He was making it sound like he was preparing for war. Michael backtracked. “Trevor?” he said, turning around. “Just see if you can meet me outside in five minutes, okay? I just need to collect something from the bedroom.”