by Ian Redman
Colin and Katy Summerfield were greatly looking forward to their well-deserved holiday. Their journey across Germany in their newly hired, deluxe Motor-home had been meticulously planned, taking them south through the Westerwald and the heart of the Rhineland, to their main destination, the Black Forest.
For Colin and Katy and their nine year old son Ben, their two week, leisurely tour was to be a magical time, a time to relax, to get away from the hustle and bustle of business and everyday life back in England. Yes thought Katy, her face radiating a pleasant smile, this will be the holiday of a lifetime. I just know we’re going to enjoy ourselves!
Ash Piper’s fingers, thumbs and toes had become bloody stumps, his torturer having worked ever so slowly, ripping his nails off, one by one then soaking the swollen, bloodstained digits in bleach. She had willed him to struggle, to continuously wrench and tear at the straps whilst she continued his agonising torment.
And once again he had done so, courageously.
As Piper screamed hideously under the gag, Lana Franke had smiled and laughed throughout his ordeal, for she was overjoyed, her pleasure, her feelings of self-satisfaction displayed openly on her pretty face. Now she was exacting her revenge on the man who had…supposedly, destroyed her life.
Now Piper lay exhausted, excruciating pain pouring through his tightly bound form, his digits bandaged in bleach soaked gauze, with various parts of his skin burned from the previous electrical torment. During the agonizing removal of his nails he had tried hard to concentrate on the good things in life. Take your mind away from the pain he had thought, just as he’d been taught in the SAS. A beautiful beach in the Bahamas, a night out with friends, a tranquil scene in the countryside and…Jeanette. As his nails slowly wrenched from his flesh, his heart had sank even further into the deep, dark pit he was now becoming so acquainted with. There is no escape from this psychotic bitch he’d thought. But how…how can she control the wolf? God, the pain! THE PAIN!
“There…all finished.”
As his thoughts continued to spiral out of control, in a welter of pain-racked misery, Piper felt the tightness around his head loosen, the gag being roughly removed. Then, he screamed aloud.
“SHUT UP!” The gloved hand struck his face again and again, making him feel dizzy. He willed himself to fall unconscious, but then realised what would happen if he did so. She would wake him immediately with another slap across the face and cold water poured over him.
Laughing aloud Doctor Lana Franke walked over to a trolley. She looked back at the broken, bleeding figure on her operating table, her loud laughter quickly turning into a giggle. Low, nauseating! Within seconds Piper heard rustling, like paper, no…polythene, being opened. She turned around and walked back, a long thin tube in her hands and another bottle, a small plastic one.
“God…please…no more!”
“Oh, my darling,” the manic physician smiled again whilst pouring a white, creamy gel into her gloved hand. “I haven’t even started yet, tomorrow is when I really begin your torment, but it’s getting late and I need my beauty sleep.”
Piper swallowed hard, the sweat dripping from his body, his bloodied fingers and toes, slowly swelling. Moving to his side, Doctor Franke held the thin tube up to the operating light. She gelled it, slowly, provocatively.
“Oh God…” whimpered Piper.
“As I said Oliver, it is getting late. I’m going to have a little chat with you now, before I leave you for the night, but first…”
“Shit, SHIT…” He struggled again as his captor leaned over, gripping his penis, preparing to insert the thin, well-lubricated tube.
“I need to catheterise you, now don’t struggle, that way I can reach your bladder with the minimum of fuss.” Gently, she pulled his foreskin back, slowly inserting the tip of the tube into his urethra.
Piper closed his eyes; the feeling of the tube making its way through to his bladder akin to something from a dream…a nightmare. He tried not to struggle, just to relax.
“Any second now you’ll probably feel the urge to urinate.” Her voice had returned to the gentle, caring, almost motherly tones.
He did began to urinate, just a little, for the sweat leaving his body over his time of torment had virtually dried him out. It was a noxious, sickly feeling that leapt out at Ash Piper as his liquid waste drained into a bottle under the table. He sighed, a long deep sigh of desolation. How the bitch was enjoying herself, he thought, tormenting him, causing him so much suffering. But what of tomorrow, dear God, what will happen tomorrow?
“There, that’s better!” The latex gloves snapped off and she threw them into the bloodstained bowl. “You can now freely urinate overnight and if you do decide to shit yourself…” she giggled again, “then I’ll do my best to clean you tomorrow morning.” Her smile widened, “now my darling, its time for a little talk, just you and I together, enjoying each other’s company.” Slowly, the beautiful physician leaned close, joining her lips with his, her tongue becoming a snake, entering his mouth.
Even with the pain coursing through his body, Piper could not help but enjoy the sensation of the kiss. Don’t erect he thought, not with this stinking thing inside me!
The kisses continued, around his cheeks, up to his forehead, her tongue licking gently at his skin.
Oh, dear God, she’s doing this on purpose. Piper closed his eyes, his breathing, erratic. “Doctor Franke,” he whispered.
“Yes darling,” she whispered back, her kisses, ever more tantalising.
“Please…can I have some water?”
The kissing ceased, her eyes falling on his, her smile, wide, tantalising. “Yes…yes, of course you can, oh I’m being so horrible to you, aren’t I.”
You demented, psychopathic bitch, thought Piper!
Still smiling, she moved to the basin and poured a glass of water, returning quickly, easing Piper’s head into position, “drink darling…there, that’s better.”
He did drink, slowly, gratefully, the cold water bringing about a feeling of ease, at least for a few seconds. Gently, Lana Franke lowered her patient’s head and smiled. “Now,” she whispered, “tell me about the wolf.”
Still southwards they travelled, the four wolves, in single file, their stamina still strong, their feelings for the hunt increasing in intensity.
And so too did Colin, Katy and Ben. Soon it would be time for the three of them to stop for the night, to settle down with a pleasant meal, a glass of wine and a good night’s sleep.
Ash Piper fell silent!
“Don’t worry,” Doctor Franke continued, “this isn’t the beginning of your interrogation,” she paused, her hand wiping his brow, slowly. “I’m just so fascinated with your kind, you see my dear…Oliver,” once again her face levelled close to his, “I know…what you are!”
“I don’t know what you mean.” It was a pathetic reply and Piper knew it.
“Oh darling, let’s not insult each other’s intelligence. When did you have contact with a wild wolf, the one that bit you?”
My God, what does this maniac know? Piper’s mind reeled, his thoughts racing into overdrive. Tell her, he thought, she may hold answers to my past! Yes, tell her!
“When I was ten, in the Black Forest, a wolf attacked me.”
“It bit you?”
“It savaged me; there was a great deal of blood loss.” Piper coughed as Lana once again brought the glass of water to his lips. He drank quickly, his head being gently laid back upon finishing, her beautiful eyes focusing so intently on his.
“When did you feel the changes taking hold, I mean the wolf, inside you?”
Piper fell silent again, the look on his captors face now one of compassion, of comfort. Go with it he thought, she’s not threatening, not at the moment. “In my teens, I started to excel in sports, but also became very aggressive, which wasn’t like me.”
Her kisses continued, gently, on his lips. “Your kind are truly unique my darling! The way you communicate, the way you can ch
ange from human to wolf, the way you can live, far longer than any normal human being.”
Piper’s breathing became erratic. Even in his tormented, agonised state he suddenly realised that things had changed, for he and the woman at his side were now as one, both openly discussing their futures.
“So how do you control me?” he whispered.
“With an injection, which I intend to administer to you again before I leave. It is a special formula developed by Otto’s father. Oh, but now you’re being clever, aren’t you…Oliver?”
“No…” keep her talking thought Piper, his innermost thoughts trying hard to control the pain pouring through his tortured body, “I just want to know more about myself.”
The smile, once again slowly crept across the beautiful face of Lana Franke, “well my darling, seeing as you are going to spend the rest of your days on this table, I don’t think there will be any harm in telling you.” She came close to his ear and whispered, “my dear Oliver, you are one of the Were! Part human being, part wolf! Only the removal of your head or the burning of your body can kill you. Nothing else! You are one of quite possibly just a handful of human beings, each of whom is infected with an extremely rare strain of wolf DNA. The strain now coursing through your body is a direct result of Nazi genetic experiments in World War Two.”
My God! Momentarily, the pain coursing through Piper’s body was forgotten. He gazed, mesmerised at the theatre light above him as the reality of Lana Franke’s words began to sink in.
“The wolf that attacked you,” she continued, “had a pack lineage dating back to those days. Its ancestors would have previously fed on the carcasses of the human guinea pigs who were subjected to those same experiments. The transition of the DNA from wolf to human is, well…extremely rare, but you my dear Oliver have that DNA, and now…” With her demented giggling beginning to return, the physician moved away from her patient, to the tiered trolley.
Oh God, thought Piper, not more pain!
Quickly, she returned to his side, an empty syringe gripped tightly in her hand. Panting heavily, Piper looked into the eyes of the woman standing over him. Her giggling had ceased. Smiling, she leaned over, inserting the syringe into one of the larger veins in his tethered right arm. “Otto would never give me his blood,” she whispered.
“WHAT THE HELL,” Piper yelled, “NO LANA, YOU DON’T REALISE WHAT YOU’RE DOING! NO!”
“I realise perfectly well what I’m doing! I want your blood, AND I’M GOING TO FUCKING WELL HAVE IT!”
TO BE CONTINUED IN:
RED HAZE: THE DOGS OF WAR
Available on the Kindle: November 2012
EXCERPT
PROLOGUE
DESPAIR
Perfect!
The four, overly large wolves kept low to the ground, their hapless prey, oblivious to the onslaught about to take place. Helga, watch and learn, thought Otto Von Kurst. Once I have killed, the four of us will feast on their flesh.
“Would you like some more wine, Colin?”
“Yes please love, these burgers are nearly ready, where’s Ben?”
“It’s alright Dad, I’m here.”
“Good lad, get yourself another Coke.”
With a sudden look of unease written on her face, Katy Summerfield nimbly stepped out of the Motor-home she was becoming so accustomed too. “What was that?” she muttered, looking back into the foliage.
“What love, what’s the matter?” Momentarily, Katy’s husband forgot the sizzling barbeque and glanced at his wife.
“Dad, there’s something over there…there, in the trees!”
“You see, I told you we shouldn’t have parked here for the night, the cooking is attracting the wildlife.”
As if in a distinct, lupine sneer, Otto Von Kurst’s lips peeled back from his dark, furred snout. He growled, his ears low, his canid body symmetrical to the forest floor. And so the hunt begins, he thought. This will be so easy.
“Don’t worry love, here Ben, have a burger.”
“Dad, something’s growling, I can hear it!”
“What, where?”
Ben Summerfield, his eyes wide with inquisitive fascination, pointed into the darkness of the treeline.
Every word spoken by the prey could be heard, the foliage being perfect cover, at least for the moment. Just a few more metres thought Von Kurst, then, I strike. Take the adult male first, then the woman and child. Von Kurst licked his snout, the growing sense of unease in the prey now openly apparent to his olfactory, lupine senses.
Colin Summerfield felt a slight chill run down his spine as he walked over to his son.
“Honestly Dad,” there was a marked hint of anxiety in Ben’s voice, “there’s something in the trees, it’s getting closer.”
Eight metres thought Von Kurst, then you’re mine!
“Alright, get back in the van, QUICKLY! KATY, GET BACK IN THE VAN!”
Perhaps it was a sixth sense that Colin Summerfield suddenly experienced, or the distinct growling in the undergrowth that activated his panic, but at the sight of the blood red eyes peering at him, Colin immediately realised that both he and his family were in the greatest of danger. “BEN, GET IN THE VAN, HURRY!”
Now! With an incredible burst of wild power, Otto Von Kurst dashed from the naturally camouflaged undergrowth, his powerful Were form leaping forward, his front claws outstretched, smashing into his prey.
As Colin tried to scream a paw slashed across his face, then another gripped his throat. With a gut-wrenching snarl, the wolf rose up on its hind legs and roared a terrible, fearful roar.
“OH MY GOD, NOOOOOOOOOOOO,” Katy screamed.
“DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!” Both Katy and Ben froze in fear as the powerful beast’s razor-sharp canines tore into Colin’s cranium, then his throat, his blood splattering across the side of the motor-home. As Colin’s eyes began to bulge from their sockets, the wolf roared again, its teeth and jaws up close to his torn, mutilated face, its hideous, stinking breath, making the dying man want to vomit.
But he couldn’t.
As Colin tried to scream, to yell in agony and fear, the beast threw him against the van with inhuman force. The force of the Were! With his neck broken, Colin Summerfield slithered down the side of the motor-home in a welter of blood and gore.
Swiftly, with its tail dancing excitedly, devilishly from side to side, the smell of blood enticing the creature’s lust for human meat even further, the wolf turned to the other two whimpering prey. It snarled, its eyes blood red, cold, unforgiving.
“MUUUUUUUUUUUM!”
“PLEASE GOD, NOOOOOOOOO!” With a rumbling growl, the wolf stalked forward, the pitiful screams from Katy Summerfield suddenly abating. Horrified, she looked across at Ben, his tearful, terrified face staring pitifully at the fur- laden, vision from hell moving slowly towards him. “LEAVE MY SON ALONE, YOU HIDEOUS THING,” she yelled, her body trembling with gut ridden fear.
Perhaps it was the look on Ben’s face, or just the natural, defensive reaction of a loving mother seeing the boy whom she had given birth to wet himself in fear, that motivated Katy Summerfield’s courageous response to the sinister, evil threat now confronting them. Whatever it was, Katy didn’t have time to think as she ran to the slowly burning barbeque, grabbing the large meat knife, turning and facing the beast in front of her. Then, in an instant, Katy noticed Ben had seemingly vanished. Of her terrified son there was no sign; he had panicked, fleeing into the forest.
Helga, the boy, thought Von Kurst, he’s yours, TAKE HIM! Von Kurst’s wolf form stepped forward, its inhuman eyes boring into those of its prey. Panic stricken, Katy looked back into the forest. Then she saw them, the three other wolves, one running further into the undergrowth, growling, snarling. Instinctively, Katy knew where the other wolf was heading, and what it would do. As she glanced across at the bloody, mutilated body of her husband, she screamed at the slavering, gore-covered animal in front of her. “I’LL KILL YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME?” With a look of both fear and ha
tred in her tearful eyes, Katy flew at the wolf in the typical ‘fight or flight’ response present in every human being’s psyche, flailing the knife around as she did so. As Katy slashed at the beast’s powerful, furred chest, Ben screamed in the forest.
Savagely, Otto Von Kurst ripped his right claw across the woman’s face, sending her reeling back into the barbeque, yelling tearfully from the pain of the hot charcoal searing her skin, her son’s screams, now silent. As a multitude of tears flowed from Katy’s eyes, down her battered, clawed, bloody face, she dropped to her knees and began to cry, the fight inside her having quickly receded. Now, only stark reality was setting in, a reality telling her she was going to die, and brutally so! “Why has this happened?” she sobbed, the wolf towering over her wretched form on its powerful hind legs, growling then reaching down, it’s saliva ridden mouth, ready to feast. “PLEASE GOD,” she screamed, piteously, “WHY!” Just before Otto Von Kurst’s vicious canines bit into Katy’s skull, she suddenly had an overwhelming, numbing feeling enter her mind. As her feet left the floor, the wolf bringing her face just inches from its snout, the only feeling Katy Summerfield felt, was of utterly overwhelming, despair.
It was Saturday morning, 10.05 hours to be precise, not that Ashley Piper would have known. To him it could have been a Tuesday, Thursday, whatever, and of the time, month, it was anyone’s guess! He hadn’t slept. He couldn’t. All he could think about during the lonely hours in the rancid, sterile smelling operating theatre was Lana Franke, as a werewolf and himself, facing his past and future. What future he thought? Strapped down in agony, cut and bleeding with a great deal more pain and suffering to come. How helpless he felt, so vulnerable, so…frightened. She could do anything she wanted to him, for as long as she required, so easily controlling his shifting from human to, what was it she called him? A Were! ‘You are one of the Were’…yes, that’s what she said, the Were!
