by Baker, Alex
That was until the elder night-stalker went down from a choke slam. Other than the victorious howl that Apocalypse bellowed out, the decibel level in the building dropped immediately.
Ambrose gasped for breath from his spot on the concrete floor. Bloodied, battered, and severely abused, the blood-dealer had given all he had. It had not been nearly enough. The demon, pristine in his stance, loomed over the would-be attacker and looked to be none-the-worse for wear.
Apocalypse offered the downed man-beast an opportunity to beg for his pitiful life, but the only reply it received back was in the form of a curse muttered from the prone man.
Clearly audible now was the teen. Anger began to replace dread, as Laura heard the girl’s cheers and antagonisms. Constance was provoking the demon. It was the final proof that brought clarity to all of the events leading up to that night. She was the ringmaster. She had played them all. To what end, Laura was not sure, but one resounding conclusion pounded in her brain: there was one true evil in the room, and it had to be stopped – permanently.
They would all die at the hands of the demon, except Constance. Laura believed that. Somehow the girl had a plan, and it would allow her to walk away from this with control over the most horrific thing to be cut loose against humanity. That could not happen. The problem was, Laura had no means of stopping her. Having satiated themselves on Anthony’s corpse, the cursed souls now slithered closer to her position. She had seconds, at best. Clenching her teeth and clinging to the leg of the poorly conditioned table, Laura braced for the impact.
It did not come. Ironically, Apocalypse himself, albeit unknowingly, she assumed, saved her.
Raising his arms, the demon recalled the apparitions back to him, drawing them back into his body.
Unsure of why the creature would do such a thing, Laura assumed that it had something to do with the end of Ambrose. Maybe Apocalypse is drawing in all of his power for one final attack? Whatever it was, it permitted her an opening to act.
Drawing on the discourse that came from watching as Constance coerced the demon into finishing off Ambrose for what he had supposedly done to her, Laura emerged from under her shelter and picked up her handgun. Feeling as though it weighed a ton to her barely responsive arms, the detective fumbled to set her sights on her target, which sat on the other side of the demon. The window of opportunity would be small and brief. Calling on her training and years of law enforcement work, Laura breathed deliberately, taking in air slowly, holding it, and then releasing it just as slowly.
Apocalypse shifted slightly, raising his arms above him in celebratory tribulation and revealing the best shot Laura would have at the girl. Blocking out the demon’s maniacal, triumphant laughter and planting her elbow into her thigh for a steadier aim, Laura pulled in slowly on the trigger.
43
Movement in her peripheral vision distracted her, but before Laura could react she was hit hard and sent sprawling. The sound of her lone gunshot rang throughout the abandoned metal and concrete building as the pistol dislodged from her grasp and landed just outside of her reach. Disoriented and shaken, she jerked around from the site of her impact to see what had collided with her.
“Oh, how I have dreamed of this moment. Wait until you see what fantasies I have planned out for you,” the male figure said, accented by the single light source in the room.
Clean shaven, blond, well built, and now sporting a set of elongated teeth, that he flashed at her, Laura realized immediately who it was. “Wes Richert,” she said uneasily.
“I’m flattered you remember me. I must have left a lasting impression, just like the one you left. Let me show you how much I appreciate you opening those doors,” the altered serial killer said, stalking towards her.
Laura was not sure where he had come from or how her one time fetish reenactment accomplice managed to be mixed up in the happenings, but she was sure it had something to do with the Amazing Woman costume Constance was wearing. And the teen had certainly not strapped herself to that chair, although Anthony could have assisted her. Still, if Wes had been there accompanying the elder night-stalker, why would he not have attacked Apocalypse?
Given those facts and how Ambrose had reacted, Laura felt driven to the conclusion that the teen had more to do with Wes being involved than any other factor, and it was not coincidence that he was chosen. Part of the girl’s plan. Something to do with herself? What was unclear was how Constance had come to know about her ties to the serial killer.
With him bearing down on her and carrying nothing but the look of bad intentions, it did not matter. Laura stretched out reaching for her sidearm, but a tight grasp on her ankle and yank backwards prevented her from reaching it.
“Now this feels familiar,” he said.
The mannerisms were not familiar to Laura, though. As opposed to their original encounter where she had to order him around like a drill sergeant due to his awkwardness and hesitation, this version of the man seemed arrogant and unyielding. Twisted maybe was a better term. He had a taste for what he was doing now, and it made him all the more dangerous. She had to break loose and find a way to defend herself. Experience told her that, changed or not, the blood-drinkers could still be harmed by bullets. She needed her gun.
Kicking with her free leg had little to no effect on her assailant and felt as though she had connected with a heavy-bag.
Effortlessly dragging her closer, Wes reached down and grabbed her by the throat before lifting her off the ground and her feet. “Yeah, that’s it. That’s what daddy likes. Show me that fight. Struggle,” he sneered at her as he rubbed his crotch area with his free hand.
Beyond dangerous and twisted and straight to demented and psychotic. Laura choked under the hold, all her body weight hanging by his hand.
Renewing what assault she could muster in her weakened condition, Laura kicked and clawed at the man-beast, but it only bought her a slap across the face that knocked her momentarily senseless.
Dropped to the floor, Wes followed the hit with a kick to her abdomen, leaving Laura gasping for air and curled into a fetal position. Instinctively, she stretched out an arm to ward him off, but it did no good. Grabbed by that appendage and hair, she found herself flipped face-first onto the ground and pinned. Unable to move or defend herself further, she could do nothing to stop the hand that pulled up her skirt or Wes from positioning himself behind her.
Looking up, she saw the demon staring. Not having realized she had caught his attention in all of the commotion, she called out for the one person that could possibly help her. “Roofy!”
At first Apocalypse seemed dumfounded, but the reaction that followed relayed to Laura that the Russian still existed in the body in some capacity. The struggle had begun, with the demon grabbing its head and repeating the word ‘no’ over and over.
Face mashed into the soiled concrete, the detective found her head forced downward and her panties ripped off.
“No! Stop!” came a yell from Constance, but Laura could not tell who the plea was directed to. No, not a plea; more like a command.
Straining against the unyielding force on top of her, Laura was able to twist her head just enough to see through a tangle of hair.
Ambrose was teetering on one knee behind Apocalypse, cutting a seam into his exposed forearm. Grappling the unsuspecting demon from behind, he shoved the gushing wound into its mouth and held on with all the fleeting strength left in his body.
The struggle did not last long, as the elder night-stalker was flung over and past Laura, landing hard in the main entrance area of the factory with a dull, resounding thud.
Aware suddenly that she had seen the action because her head was free, Laura was no longer being pinned down. Swiveling her body, she saw Wes straddling over her in a standing position, his gaze fixed on…on what or who, she wondered. Following his line of sight, she could see the demon down on his knees, contorted in some sort of internal confrontation. It was Constance she wanted to get a look at, but Apocalyps
e’s thrashings were making it difficult to do. For an instant, though, Laura was sure she had seen the teen shaking her head in Wes’ direction.
Gun location made, she began crawling as fast as her arms would allow. Adrenaline pumping, she expected to be grabbed again, but nothing impeded her effort.
Roofy’s voice registered in her ears, and Laura glanced up in time to see that the big Russian was back in control and bull-rushing towards Wes, who appeared confused and unsure of how to react. His head whipped back and forth between the tied-up teen and the oncoming ex-wrestler, even as he took a defensive stance in preparation for the impending attack.
Colliding with Wes like a runaway freight train, Roofy immediately set about raining down punches, the assault thwarted by the smaller but superior-in-strength blood-dealer.
Wes’ counter-attack sent the big Russian to the floor and left him in a compromised position.
It’s now or never. Laura had to do something quick or be left watching Roofy die again. She lurched forward and grabbed the grip of her gun, whipped back around to get off a shot.
No one was there except Roofy, who was picking himself up off the floor. A quick scan of the area confirmed that Ambrose was gone as well. Laura slammed the firearm down hard on the concrete in frustration. “Damn!”
It was the second time she had come up empty handed. There would not be a third, she determined.
Rubbing his head, Roofy had made his way over to her and dropped to his knees by her side. “Moy sladkiy, ty v poryadke?” he said.
“Big man, I can’t understand you,” Laura said wearily.
Roofy shook his head as if to clear out whatever lingering effects the demon’s possession may have had on him. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Laura answered, pulling her skirt down and letting the big Russian help her up so she was sitting on the floor. “Just give me a minute.”
“The girl,” Roofy exclaimed and took off across the room. Turning, Laura watched as the ex-wrestler checked Constance over and hurriedly untied her, before the two embraced in a hug.
Yes, the girl. How close had she come to destroying them all? Worse yet, how would she explain what she had witnessed to Roofy, and would he even believe her? Laura had that sinking feeling in her gut again, and it told her that things were worse than they could have ever been. She took her cell phone out from its holder on her belt. The screen was now cracked, but it otherwise seemed to be working, at least for what she needed it for.
Across the room, the two held each other tightly.
Constance smiled broadly and gazed innocently up into the big Russian’s eyes.
“Oh Roofy, I knew you would come for me,” she said.
Truer words were never spoken, Laura thought.
44
The old factory building teemed with officers scouring the site for evidence and signs of the culprits involved in the night’s events. They won’t find them, Laura thought. These things were more animal than human, as far as she was concerned; hidden away in shadows and nightmares.
Wrapped in a blanket, she stood up and walked to the entrance, staring out at the cascade of blue flashing lights that lit up the area. Exhausted, Laura longed to be somewhere far away, curled up in soft sheets, but even that idea seemed more fantasy than reality. How do you sleep knowing beings like that were out there?
“You going to be okay?” asked a familiar voice from behind her. Soothing and strong, she recognized and welcomed it.
“Yes, Chief, I’ll be fine,” she answered, turning to find the commanding officer, flanked by Dwayne and another detective from the department, Wilkes.
“So far we haven’t had any luck on tracking down the other parties involved,” Wilkes said, “but we’ll stay on it. Anything else you can add concerning Mister Reiner and the Kysta girl?”
“No,” Laura replied distantly, “Like I stated, they disappeared in all of the commotion.”
“That will be enough for now, Wilkes. Detective Stenks has had a hard night. Let’s give her some space,” Chief Epps said, dismissing the investigative officer before turning his attention back to Laura. “Let the paramedics have one more look at you then go home and get some rest. Take the day. You can come see me whenever tomorrow, and we’ll get the report straightened out.” With that, the chief walked away, barking orders at some of the personnel and leaving Dwayne and Laura alone.
“I’m not even going to ask what really happened right now. I’m just glad you’re okay,” the forensics officer said, putting a hand on Laura’s shoulder. “You need me to drive you somewhere?”
“No. Thanks. I’ll be fine,” Laura answered.
“If you need me, call me – any time,” Dwayne said. “I’m going to go make sure my team is functioning without me.” Leaving Laura with a smile, she watched as he joined the crime scene unit in marking areas for examination.
Turning back to the doorway in time to be greeted by the first rays of morning light, Laura took a deep breath and headed for the nearest ambulance. Let’s get this examination done and over with. There was still a lot she had to get done.
45
Cracking the hotel room door, Roofy lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, a noticeable amount of perspiration collecting on his brow.
Close by in the bathroom, Constance turned her attention from watching the Russian to viewing herself in the mirror. Aside from needing a light cleaning, the Amazing Woman costume was still in fair condition, and she could not help but admire how well it accented the curves of her body, running her hands softly up her abdomen and over her breasts. Despite never being a fan of leg-wear, the pantyhose even caught her fancy. Smooth and tight, they added a silkiness to her appearance, which she liked.
The epitome of superheroine. Who could resist the package like this: looks, power, and cunning?
Control. She had it. Looking back to the Russian as he flicked the cigarette butt out the door and closed it, Constance knew there was even more to be had.
Problem was, the teen reasoned, Laura had her claws sunk into him and, worse, she had survived the ordeal. What did that woman have that she did not? There was no doubt who wore the costume better, yet Laura had managed to seduce Wes into her control while wearing it. Of course, Constance had broken that hold on him, hadn’t she?
Wes had been set free, and now he followed her will; followed her commands. There was no doubt in her mind that Roofy would see things her way too. Constance would remove the wedge that the self-serving detective had placed. She had plans for the woman. It would just take some time and determination.
Exiting the small room, she made her way to one of the two beds stuffed in the cramped living area and, running her fingers along the sheets, climbed up on it and sat on her knees.
“Why don’t we leave now, just me and you? We don’t need her, you know. We were just fine before she came along,” Constance said coercively, rubbing her hands slowly over her satiny legs.
Holding his head, Roofy sat on the edge of the bed, his broad back to her. “Niet. We will need her. This will take all of us.”
Constance massaged his shoulders, leaning in close to whisper in his ear. “No we won’t. The two of us can do anything.”
The big Russian’s only reply was a hard grunt. The teen knew the signs. Apocalypse was fighting to come out while Roofy struggled to contain the creature.
The demon. The teen could detect the faint odor effusing through the Russian’s skin. She had ample opportunity to drink in the scent of the beast while it projected itself through Roofy’s body in the warehouse, and the aroma had been intoxicating. It exuded power in every facet of the imagination, and Constance fantasized about tasting it for herself.
Diesel fumes were what sprang to mind when she inhaled the demon’s excretion; deliciously sweet, deceptively harmful, and definitely destructive. It reminded Constance of herself but at levels she had not come close to experiencing. She would.
Allowing the beast to fully emerge would not achieve her
goal though, so until she could find a way to harness that power for herself, staying close to the source and keeping his dependence on her would have to do.
Control.
Eventually she would own the abilities one could only dream would come with absorbing a force like that. After that, ridding herself of the leaches like Laura and abominations like Ambrose would be simple. And Roofy – Roofy would thank her for saving him; for removing the demonic possession and ending the threat haunting him. And he would see how much she cared for him; cared in ways that Laura never could.
Roofy grunted again, this time through clenched teeth, and squeezed his hands tight.
“It’s going to be okay. I’ll take care of you. Lie back,” Constance said soothingly, pulling backwards on the Russian’s large body. Falling onto his side on the mattress, Roofy shook in violent spurts.
Folding down one of the support cups built into the chest portion of the Amazing Woman costume, the teen exposed her breast. She raised one of her fingers close to her nipple when the doorknob turned.
Someone was coming in.
46
Laura could have listed off a hundred things that she may have witnessed when entering the hotel room where she had sent Roofy and Constance. The teen playing with the nipple of her exposed breast over what appeared to be the ex-wrestler having a seizure would not have even come close to appearing on that list.
“What in the Hell are you doing?” Laura asked dumbfounded.
“Where have you been?” Constance fired back.
Laura was utterly slack-jawed. In addition to the unbelievable scene that lay before her, she was actually getting grief from one of the participants.
“I’m going to ask again, what in the Hell are you doing?” Laura asked emphatically, slamming the door behind her.
“It’s the demon. Roofy needed you. Where were you?” the teen countered, and yet still managed to totally avoid why she was flashing her boob and implicate the detective as being at fault in the process. Laura could not imagine how this was being turned on her.
