Brutality

By

Ian Woodhead

By Ian Woodhead

Parasite

Shades of Green

Rags and Bones

The Mirrored Blade

Spores

Third Sight

Woven in Blood

Kingdoms of the Dead

Fungal Tide

The Bone Architect

Mouthful of Carrion

Scorched Flesh

Brutality

Chemical Flowers (with Suzanne Reeves)

The Zombie Armageddon Series

The Unwashed Dead

Walking with Zombies

Infected Bodies

Dead Veil

Dead Reaping

Human Filth

Harvest of the Dead (with Christine Sutton)

Table of Contents

Chapter One             5

Chapter Two             11

Chapter Three             15

Chapter Four             21

Chapter Five             26

Chapter Six             31

Chapter Seven             36

Chapter Eight             41

Chapter Nine             46

Chapter Ten             51

Chapter Eleven             55

Chapter Twelve             59

Chapter Thirteen             63

Chapter Fourteen             67

Chapter Fifteen             70

Chapter Sixteen             76

Chapter Seventeen             80

Chapter Eighteen             84

Chapter Nineteen             88

Chapter Twenty             93

Chapter Twenty-one             97

Epilogue             101

BURGER             102

THE SHED             109

POISONED             118

DEAD GIRL             130

BRUTALITY

by

Ian Woodhead

WARNING – This is an extreme horror story, intended for mature audiences only. Do not read if you are easily shocked or if you have a nervous disposition.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright revised edition, July 2015 by Ian Woodhead

Edited by Linda Tooch

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, scanning or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.

Chapter One

Max Bailey dragged his fingernails down the side of his cheek. He didn't need to look to know just how much grime his skin had accumulated over the past few weeks. Had it been that long since he had last bathed? The passing of time built up faster than the layers of shit that stuck to his frail body. Max so longed to immerse this foul-stinking vessel in a deep tub of hot water with a just a touch of bubble bath added. No, fuck it, he was going to use up a full bottle of the stuff.

The fantasy of him stretching out in this imaginary bath while he ran a soft soapy brush up and down his legs popped like one of the fictional soap bubbles. He couldn't allow these distractions to take hold. Max had to stay focussed.

This town called Brutality was on the cusp of destruction. The signs were everywhere if you knew where to look. The locals born in this vile place couldn't see how their behaviour had shifted, but he could. Max pressed his back against the shop window and tensed up, not wanting his previous visions from sliding back to infect his thoughts.

Nothing looked out of place. The town hadn't changed, and outwardly the inhabitants still carried on as they always did. Look beneath the veil, and that story soon changed. He tilted his head back; beyond the gutter and the rooftops, the pale moon peeked out from the dark clouds. Even the majesty of creation failed to calm him tonight. The thundering express train was almost upon him, and no amount of star gazing would alter that.

Max breathed in the cold air. He detected petrol fumes, cooking meat grease from the town's many takeaways, the hint of cheap perfume, and of course, the sour stench of lager. Yet beneath this concoction of human squander, he also smelled apple blossom, cut grass, and the sweet scent of spring flowers. Even here, even in Brutality, a smear of the good things still managed to cling on.

It was the latter that Max so wanted to embrace, but he dared not allow his inner urges to take root. His masquerade had to continue. He was the last remaining guardian of Brutality. To protect these people, Max assumed the role of an unseen scavenger; his desire didn't even enter into the equation.

The tiny hairs on his back shot up, and the landscape of the town’s closed takeaways blurred. He stared at the back of his hand, pleading to the Powers that this wasn't the prelude to the End of Everything. He swallowed the built up saliva, feeling the coldness slip down his throat. The tips of his fingers start to vibrate. “Oh fuck,” he moaned, now recognising the onset of yet another vision. “Not another one.” This was going to hurt, they always did. Still, at least this time he did know what to expect.

He thrust both his hands down to his side, and clenched his fingers tight around the filthy fabric, almost losing his grip on the layer of grease coating his trousers. His actions did not suppress the shakes now surging through his legs. That familiar shiver rushed through every cell of his body, rising until it reached his head. Max heard himself moan in anguish before feeling the strength drain from his legs.

Like a puppet with its strings cut, Max collapsed into the middle of the road, the brief downpour from the evening had drained away, and only a few puddles remained. Max had fallen into the largest one and the displaced water soaked into his clothing.

Max's body was close to shutting down, the control he had over his functions were switching off one by one. One tiny spark of rationality buried under the layers of alien thoughts and emotions calmly informed him that he was lying in the middle of the road. Max channelled what little strength he had left and crawled to the kerb and then rolled his body onto the pavement.

He shuddered one last time; the few remaining lights flickered, dimmed, and went out.

It left him helpless, unable to move or talk. He would stay like this until the Powers had finished with him. Max prayed that it wouldn’t take long. The human nightlife tended to either ignore him, or they just didn't see him.

Even so, at this time in the morning, the inhibitions that the locals went to so much trouble to cover during the daylight hours were given a little more freedom. He had no wish to end up in one of their cellars, hanging upside down from a meat hook, or to find himself waking up in a buried wooden box.

Max found himself sitting in the passenger seat of a large car. It took a few seconds to place the vehicle; it was a red Range Rover, an older model. He looked out of the side window, watching the houses fly past. He knew where they were; this was Canal Road, about a mile from where he lay. The car sped through the quiet area of the town then slowed down and turned into Basing Street. Max looked through the windscreen and saw his own body lying in the middle of the road. He looked like a heap of discarded clothing, thrown out and forgotten. Max shook his head. No, that wasn’t how it should happen, he had moved out of the road. He managed to tear his eyes away from his form and for the first time, looked at the driver, recognising him immediately.

Paul Harrison lived on the other side of the town with his wife. Max had seen them a few times drifting through the shopping centre. His wife had even dropped twenty pence into his battered baked bean tin a few weeks ago and rewarded him with a pitying sad smile. Max had returned her smile then watched the big man turn to lust at a pretty pair of legs. While the flesh distracted him, he had scanned the surface of his mind and pulled out a whole chunk of interesting facts about the both of them.

Just like the rest of the locals, the pair followed the template; then again, they had no choice. Their fate was fixed from the moment of conception. They belonged to the town, part of the tapestry that bound all the locals together.

Their outward appearances were just a thin veneer covering up tainted personalities. Even the woman, despite the rare act of compassion, was capable of a whole host of actions deemed heinous to normal society. The man, though. Oh, he was a special case. Max had inadvertently discovered one of the inner core, one of the few that took their depravity to a whole new level. He decided that this man would need watching.

Max couldn't help himself, and like a kid tempted by the biscuit barrel, he just had to see how bad the man really was. Max dug deeper, and found...

...The pretty young girl, with those wide moo cow eyes, and that oh so long ash blonde hair, had stopped giving him that 'come to bed' smile. Paul sat down in front of her. In fact, she'd stopped doing much of anything now. He leaned forward, grabbed a handful of that hair, and pushed her head back. Judging from the slack features, the bitch had just died on him. Well, that was a bit of an anti-climax. No final scream, no gasp for air, just a quiet exaltation before shifting off this mortal coil.

He hadn't even had a chance to unroll his special ladies.

His knives lay beside his chair, still secured with the leather strap. Paul had wanted to soften her up first with his fun toys before getting down to the serious business of the actual carve. He slid the tips of his fingers along her mutilated thigh, feeling the uneven bumps beneath the congealing layer of thick blood. He guessed that his pretty girl shrieking her head off while he dragged the cheese grater up her leg might have been the final act.

She already knew what marvellous plans he had set out for her godlike face and that fantastic torso. Despite himself, he couldn't help spouting out her future. Why not? It's not every day that such a perfect looking hitch-hiker wanders into the town of Brutality. He was just thankful that he spied her before anyone else did. Some of the other freaks didn't appreciate true art.

Maybe it wasn't the grater; it could have been when he hammered the screws into her left kneecap. Paul tended to zone out in the middle of his warm up sessions, meaning she could have already been dead when he did pick up the grater.

Still, he'd started the job, so he couldn't stop now. The girls need to taste flesh; he just hoped they wouldn't be too upset when their razor sharp blades opened up dead meat.

Paul sighed heavily, knowing he wouldn't be able to create a true piece of beauty; his heart wouldn't be in it. Such a shame, too. This body had to be the best he'd found for years.

He reached for the roll-sack, almost jumping out of his chair when the girl's eyes shot open. Those large brown eyes rolled in their sockets, then they focussed on Paul's surprised face, and she shrieked. He giggled whilst scooping up his ladies. Somebody up there was looking out for him...

… Max had pulled out; he'd seen enough. Back then, whilst sitting in the shopping centre, Max could have scanned over a dozen minds, from the grey haired woman, hurrying past Paul and his wife, to the group of laughing teens leaning against the Mall fountain a few metres from him. Most of them were local, born in Brutality, and the ones born here could have been quite capable of performing similar atrocities on that poor girl. The only difference between Paul and the others was that she might have survived.

The man’s expression suddenly changed to exultation. Paul had just seen Max's body in the middle of the road. The man floored the accelerator and giggled. The noise was so unexpected, he sounded like a child. Max gritted his teeth and moaned when he felt the powerful vehicle plough into his frail body, watching his shattered form smash into a post box and splash the metal with an even brighter shade of scarlet.

The man howled in triumph then jerked the gears and reversed the Land Rover, still giggling. Max tried not to cry at the sight of his own body sliding down the front of the post-box before landing in a bloodied heap on the side of the road. This fiend had wrecked his body. He glared at the man sitting beside him and saw that he had not finished just yet. The man spun the vehicle around and backed towards Max's body until the rear wheel was in line with his head. The vehicle then inched further back and Max screamed, watching his head burst apart like an overripe tomato. His eyes shot open, and he slowly sat up, finding himself back in his undamaged body by the kerb. He turned around to see that he was just a few metres from the post-box. Max felt his stomach turn over and he threw up his last meal of half a cold pepperoni pizza that he had dug out of a litterbin about an hour ago. Max crawled over to the box and used it to get back onto his feet. “I can’t take this anymore.”

His strength had left him, and Max knew that if he released his hands from the cold metal, he would crash into the hard paving slabs and end up breaking a few bones or pulling a couple of muscles. He turned his head and saw an alternative. Max staggered forward and threw himself into a soft pile of black bin bags, sighing with gratitude that not everyone who lived in this town were born here. A local would never leave bags full of old clothing outside a charity shop.

The man allowed the softness of the fabric under the black plastic to caress his weak muscles while wondering if his ability to foretell a vision was weakening. He had long since given up trying to evade the visions, but he had experienced enough of the bloody things to see the signs.

“Oh, so I got the colour wrong.” Max had no doubt that everything else he saw would have transpired if he hadn’t moved out of the road. It didn’t make sense to him. Why would they show him an event that wouldn’t have even happened if they hadn’t subjected him to the agony of foresight? The maniac in the 4X4 wasn’t unique in this town; a few of them would have driven their wheels over his body. “Fuck, why do I still question their motives?”

Max eased the rest of his body off the bags and waited for his delicate stomach to catch up. He knew that despite their questionable motives, the Powers would have had good reason to subject him to the picture of watching his body flatten out. “Let me see if I can ascertain the reason,” he muttered. Max glanced along both sides of the street to ensure that he was still alone. He filled his lungs with the cold air, closed his eyes, and willed his Ka to leave this shell.

He saw Paul Harrison gripping the steering wheel and thundering through the deserted streets like the devil possessed. He would reach the town limits within minutes at this speed. The maniac must be pushing the car way past seventy miles per hour. Max pushed his Ka through the rear window, floated past the rear seats, and settled down next to the driver.

The comparison between this man and the one Max last saw, scowling at his wife for giving him money, was startling. The demonic mask of suppressed fury frightened even Max. Just what had happened? The man’s mouth opened and shut like a fish gulping in food. His mutters couldn’t be heard over the sound of the music blaring through the speakers. The noise was loud enough to rattle the windows.

His erratic driving could easily end an innocent’s life. From what he discovered from his vision, this man would cherish the prospect of wiping out a pedestrian. Max then noticed the dried blood splashed across his other cheek and guessed that he had already taken more than one life. There was even a chance that they were innocents. Max knew of a few remaining in town who hadn’t taken the hint to leave.

Max decided that it was time to find out just what was going on. He would not find answers by just observing. The man’s innermost thoughts held the answers he desired to know. Max’s Ka slowly floated up until he was level with Paul’s contorted face and then dived in.

That stupid, fucking, little bitch just had to go look. Why the fuck couldn’t the dumb slag not keep her big nose out of his stuff? Just how many times did he have to tell the wife not to go down there, that his workshop was off-limits to her? If wasn’t really his fault, though; he wasn’t going to take the hit on this one. Fuck, how could he have known that she would pick the lock?

Curiosity killed the cat. It also killed the bitch of a wife too. Oh, he’d sorted her out all right, he’d shown Caroline just what happened to nosey parkers. Oh, yeah, remembering the hot thrill that coursed through his body as he wrapped his hands around the woman’s neck and squeezed made him grin. Watching her legs jerk spasmodically, kicking the walls and table, was just sublime.

The raw emotion so surprised him. He had honestly believed that he had squashed the urge to kill his wife again years ago. It looked like he was wrong. That feeling had never gone away. Fuck his statues, fuck her, and fuck this town. He needed out. He needed space, most of all, his girls needed to taste more flesh. They'll never forgive him for not allowing them access to Caroline. This time he wasn’t going to make the mistake of hunting in his own town. He couldn’t wait to get his blades wet again.

Max whipped his Ka out of Paul’s mind and floated in front of his face. The man was still muttering. He floated closer until he was directly in front of the man’s moving lips. Paul was only repeating four words: Jennifer, Carol, Linda, and Susan. Max pulled back, and glanced over his shoulder, spying a leather satchel lying on the back seat, the flap was open to reveal four long bladed knives. Was this creature talking about his knives? Oh, dear God, Max did not intend to go back inside to find out.

The town limits were not too far away now. If he didn’t stop this right now, the man would get away. Max had no influence beyond the border.

He hated this part of his role as guardian. He had been tasked with keeping the local population alive. Paul Harrison’s death would create a sudden void. The town would not notice his demise, and nobody would miss or mourn his disappearance. That didn’t matter. The delicate balance would shift, and beyond the boundaries of this blight on the landscape, there would be a mass killing. Another unexplained tragedy claiming innocent lives.

Max would grieve for their loss. He had no choice though. To allow just one of these monsters to remain alive away from the town could unravel everything. The town would allow a minor player to ascend and to fill the void. It wouldn’t take long; there were plenty of willing participants.

Paul growled, and pressed the pedal down to the floor. Max felt the Range Rover judder as it picked up more speed. If he didn’t act right now, it would be too late. He muttered an incantation and his Ka solidified.

The man’s eyes almost popped out of his sockets. He let out a single shocked yell and thrust both his arms forward. Paul shrieked even louder when his fingers encountered no resistance, pushed all the way through the apparition, and slammed into the vehicle’s windscreen.

Max’s Ka sensed the approach of something significantly larger than Paul’s Range Rover. He twisted around and nodded in satisfaction. This would be perfect. He looked back into the man’s terrified eyes one last time before rushing through the metalwork, listening to Paul shouting out for his mother. The car ploughed into the corner of a stone viaduct at over seventy miles per hour.

From where it floated, his Ka watched the man’s own Ka separate from his smashed up body. The spirit saw him and rushed towards his Ka, screaming incoherent obscenities. Before Paul’s Ka could reach him, unseen forces grabbed the spirit, and pulled it towards the ground. Max’s Ka watched with a little regret as it vanished beneath the soil.

Unlike his victims, Paul would have felt no pain before he died. Max understood why Paul acted like he did and knew that he could have never behaved in any other way. He and the rest of them in this cursed town could not deviate from their set path. Even so, he did not wish the spirit luck on its journey to the next realm.

‘The lid on Pandora’s box shall remain closed,’ he growled. Max believed the analogy was apt considering just how true that comparison was. He had kept up to date with events beyond the border. Many people believed that the world teetered on the edge of collapse, that man’s evil would consume everything. That would never happen, not while his town kept the equilibrium secure.

Over the sounds of the burning Ranger Rover, his Ka heard another vehicle approach. He moved off the road and floated just above the pavement. There was no reason for him to move away this time. It’s not like this car would be able to hurt him. He shook his incorporeal head in bemusement.

The car slowed and then stopped in the middle of the road a few feet from the burning wreck. It didn’t surprise him to see that it was one of the town’s police cars. They were the only vehicles that patrolled the outskirts. Like Max, they didn’t want any of the town’s locals to spread their foulness past the boundary. Unlike Max, they were driven by self-interest; they had no wish for the outside world to discover their town’s secrets. Most of the officers serving were local as well. Like Paul, they, too, were gripped by dark urges.

Max watched the driver study the flaming car for a few seconds before climbing out of the police car. He spoke into his radio then slowly walked around the bent and twisted remains of the car. Max should have returned to his body by now as his role in this drama was at an end.

His Ka would not obey his request; it stayed where it was, rooted to the spot, while the officer continued to watch the vehicle burn. Something caught the officer’s attention. Max watched him hurry over to the other side of the road and stoop to pick something up. His Ka suddenly began to move of its own volition, and he floated closed to the man.

The officer had found Paul’s leather satchel. How it had managed to survive intact was a mystery to Max, unless the impact had thrown it clear. He examined the contents and cursed before running back to his patrol car. Max watched him throw the satchel onto the back seat.

If the course of events ran to plan, the officer would not hand those knives over. They’d probably end up for sale in one of the town’s many junk shops by the end of the week. The officer would get a decent price for that set of knives as well. The man who had ended his life splattered over those stones wasn’t the only one in town who had an alternative use for a set of good quality kitchen knives.

The officer climbed back into the car and slowly turned the vehicle around before heading back towards the town. He found that his Ka no longer felt like a fly trapped in amber. He did not understand why the powers compelled him to witness the rescue of those knives. It did scare him. In all the centuries of guarding the town, the powers had never intervened before, at least, not with him.

This was the end of his role; Max had stopped the man from leaving town. He just wished that he could have completed the task without killing Paul. He watched the flames dying down. Within the next few hours, the town’s authorities would collect the car and take it to the local scrap yard to crush, probably with the man still inside. A clean-up crew would remove the debris, and that officer would report a minor traffic accident. It was how these incidents worked in their town.

Max sighed with relief as the pull from his physical body anchored the Ka and pulled it across the dark landscape towards where he lay. As he forced open his sleep encrusted eyes, the dull reality of his location hit him with the subtly of a rough stone. The acrid stink around his body caused him to gag, and it didn’t take him long to realise that he was breathing in the fumes of his own foul body odour combined with the stench coming from the filthy rags he wore.

He coughed and attempted to breathe using only his mouth. It had been well over a week since he had last bathed and that had been in the cold steam that ran through the middle of the local woodland. Max needed another dunk; he should also grab some more clothes as well.

The detachment of Ka from his body amplified all of his senses upon his immediate return, especially his sense of smell. It had been many years since he had returned to his body to find it clean and lying in a warm bed, complete with freshly laundered cotton sheets.

He groaned with pleasure at the memory. Max didn’t have to go to such extravagance. A meadow surrounded by spring flowers would have been far better than this. Even with breathing through his mouth, he could still smell the musty clothes in the bags under him and the reek of stale dog piss next to the corner of the shop door, even the exhaust fumes made him feel queasy. The rank smell coming from his own cooling vomit pushed aside what little resistance left, and Max’s stomach once more rebelled and ejected what little food he’d managed to hold on to.

Max slammed his jaw shut, narrowly avoiding cutting his tongue in half, when he started to experience the aches and pains that he could usually shut off. He wanted to die. No, he just wanted to flee this tortured suit of meat that encased his Ka and just leave this place, never to return.

Instead, Max crawled onto the bin bags, shut his eyes, and started to count down from a hundred. The bout of self-pity, just like the enhanced senses, would eventually subside.

He decided there and then that he would spend the next couple of nights luxuriating in a hotel bed. He needed to recharge his batteries; it’s not like he didn’t deserve it. Max had just stopped a runner, and he doubted that there’d be another one for at least a couple of weeks.

Two rats were creeping along the gutter. They had smelled his partially digested pizza spattered on the paving slabs and were eager to investigate. He smiled and willed them closer. Max promised not to disturb them, glad that at least one creature of the night would benefit from the meal.

Chapter Two

Dave Longbanks wrapped his fingers around the chrome pole attached to the edge of the oak-finished bar and brushed his other hand through his shock of blond hair. He waited for the dizziness to recede then gazed across the crowded dance floor. Dave’s eyes settled on some jail bait girl who looked like she’d poured her well-endowed body into that bright blue outfit.

By the looks of the way she was acting, the tart had already found a bloke to keep her body warm tonight. Not that Dave was all that troubled, his bed would not be cold tonight either. He groaned silently when the dizziness tried to knock him off the barstool. This was just unreal; he’d only had five pints so far.

He gazed over at his mate, Phil Banks, and stifled a giggle. The big oaf was currently admiring himself in the huge mirror behind the bar. It hadn’t escaped Dave’s attention that Phil had already drained his pint and got himself a shot while Dave hadn’t been looking. Not that Dave would dare say anything to Phil. It just wasn’t worth the hassle. After a few pints, his mate had everything down to just three basic actions of food and fight, and then a good fuck.

Dave did not intend to experience his mate’s large fists working over his face. Phil drained his shot glass, and then he looked across towards the ladies toilet. Dave followed the man’s gaze, suppressing a grin. Their pick-ups had both retreated to the toilets a few minutes ago. Dave took a sip of his pint, wondering why the females always felt the need to accompany each other to the toilets.

“Hey, Phil, what is it with girls always going to the toilet together?” He tapped the lad on the shoulder. “Hey, are you in there?” His friend hadn’t even noticed Dave trying to grab his attention. Dave then saw where Phil’s eyes had landed. The big guy had spotted the young girl in the blue dress.

She’d decided to gyrate that firm body on the sparse dance floor. Dave punched Phil hard on the shoulder.

Phil spun around, rubbing his arm. “Are you wanting me to push your teeth through your throat?” He reached over, stole Dave’s pint, and drained it in one gulp. “You owe me a drink.”

“Will you shut the fuck up, and listen to me!” He grabbed the glass and banged it on the bar. “Stop drooling over Julie the schoolie over there. We’ve already got us some flesh remember.”

The barman silently picked up the glasses. Dave watched the man expertly filling them while Phil’s eyes had been drawn back to the young girl on the dance floor. The silly cow really was trying hard to look sexy and all demure. Dave stifled a giggle when she slipped and fell on her arse. He wondered if Phil really did remember that they’d already scored. They had agreed on the five-pint limit months ago. Any more than that, and either one of them would start throwing up. It was usually him. He paused before admitting to himself that it was nearly always him; in fact, Phil never threw up. The lad just got real mean if he drank more than the agreed limit—well, meaner than he normally was.

Dave watched the crowd swallow the embarrassed girl and then turned to find Phil staring at him. Judging by the state of his mate’s red-raw eyes, he concluded that the sly bastard had probably necked a bottle of JD before they hit the town. He wanted to kick himself for not spotting this earlier. He’d been too hyped up to notice. The prospect of finding a pretty girl had blinded Dave to his mate’s condition. He inwardly sighed, knowing that a bout of violence would now play an inevitable part in tonight’s proceedings. With luck, it would be just another pissed up lad would wouldn’t feel Phil’s heavy fists until he’d sobered up in the morning, and not one of the girls. Phil was not sexist. The lad would punch both genders.

“Do you know, Phil? Why do birds always go to the toilets together?”

The big lad grunted and shrugged before reaching for his fresh pint. Phil wasn’t listening to a word he was saying. Dave then noticed that bloody girl again. The crowd had moved. She had her arms around some bloke old enough to be her dad while precariously balanced on his knee. From where Dave sat, it looked as if the man wasn’t too happy with having some oversexed teen trying to undress him in front of the club’s audience.

Dave yelped in shock and pain when his friend tapped him on the shoulder.

“It’s well annoying, ain’t it, Dave?” asked Phil. “You wanna know what I think? I reckon that they go to the bog together so they can work on each other.” Phil ran his tongue across his wet lips. “Oh, yeah, that’ll be what they’re doing alright. Those birds would have squeezed into one cubicle and used their fingers on their twats, getting them all lubricated just for me.” Phil nodded. “Makes sense, really.”

Dave felt his mouth muscles rise. It was an automatic response. He had learned years ago that whenever Phil expressed some puerile statement, it was a good idea to go along with him. He should have guessed Phil would spout out some chunk of bullshit relating to his sexual prowess. The gorilla thought he was a sex-god, and that all women wanted to sleep with him. The sad fact was that Phil wasn’t that far off the mark. Most of the eligible teens in Brutality swarmed around Phil’s type. It appeared that the misogynistic, brain-dead, muscle-bound male was the in-thing in this fucked up town.

He tore his eyes off the girl in the blue dress and looked back at the toilets. Where were they? He pushed away his friend’s perverted images and guessed they were more likely to be stood in front of the mirror checking their make-up and discussing which lad they would choose. Dave so hoped the blonde one would pick him. That Lisa was so tidy, perfect teeth, beautiful deep blue eyes, and a cleavage that just demanded full attention. The brunette, Amber, was rather easy on the eye as well, but Dave did have a preference for blondes. He didn’t think that Phil would care about which lass he ended up in bed with.

His odd relationship with Phil went back to when his family upped sticks and moved into this hellish place. Brutality certainly lived up to its name, at least in the eyes of that thirteen year old boy. Phil Banks was the second kid he met. The first boy, a trollish ape going by the name of Brian Sheppard had taken an instant dislike to the new boy and took it upon himself to drag Dave into the corner of the playground and knock the shit out of him. As the blows rained down on his curled up body, he remembered thinking that the playground monitor would break it up. Through one eye, Dave spotted the woman stood amongst the assembled crowd. Nobody spoke, and Dave found that the most frightening aspect of the whole ordeal.

It was another ape who finally intervened. Phil Banks wasn't as trollish as Brian Sheppard, but that didn't stop Dave's torturer from backing off. Words of thanks and gratitude poured from Dave's mouth, only they were like water off a duck's back. The only reason why Phil broke up the fight was because he had the first privilege of breaking in the new boy.

The only thing that stopped Dave from receiving a second beating was the toe cringing sound of the lunch buzzer going off. Dave had been to many schools in his short life and knew the drill. Unlike every other crappy town that his parents had moved to, it appeared that this school had more bullies than victims. Meaning that if he didn't do something, Dave wouldn't survive the first week. He employed the tactic that had worked in his last school. Dave offered to help Phil with his homework.

The beatings promptly stopped, and Dave bided his time until his parents moved again, only that time never arrived. It looked like mum and dad had decided to settle here for good.

They had both left school, and within a week of leaving they had both started working at the same factory. That wasn’t so unusual since Dexter’s Meat packaging was the largest employer in their shitty little town every year, and the factory employed a smattering of school-leavers.

The job sucked out your soul, and the money they paid was a joke. Still, the free food did help to make up for the job’s crappiness; at least they would never go hungry. The damaged products that the bosses allowed them to take home did help to supplement his mother’s grocery budget. In his dark periods, he always tried to look on the bright side; at least he did have a job. Many in town didn’t.

They both worked side by side on the assembly line in the main building with a dozen or more other workers. Phil was not the most productive worker, and on more than one occasion Dave had no choice but to cover for his friend’s lack of productivity.

His generosity wasn’t without an ulterior motive. He benefited from the partnership as well. Phil allowed Dave to tag along at the weekend so they could pick up girls. Phil knew that if it weren’t for Dave helping him out, he would have joined the dole queue months ago.

The lasses had always flocked around Phil, ever since his balls had dropped. Despite the horrible way he treated them, there were always plenty more females wanting to share Phil’s bed. Deep down, Dave knew that he ought to be ashamed of himself. He was only using Phil so he could get the girls too.

Aside from alcohol induced mental bafflement and the chance of scoring on a weekend, their town had nothing else to offer. There was no cinema, no sports facilities, no nothing. Dave had never done drugs, and unlike Phil, he didn’t receive any thrills from knocking the crap out of people. Brutality was a complete dump. A hovel of a town set in the middle of nowhere, and he hated the place.

He watched the girls leave the toilets. The blonde pushed past a skinny girl, giggling when she fell into the back of a group of bikers. Dave’s heart sank as he imagined Phil doing the same thing. The two girls walked over to the bar. Dave watched the blonde make her way towards Phil.

“So, where are you two handsome boys going to take us next?” asked Lisa. She ran her tongue along her lips and then ran her manicured finger slowly down the front of Phil’s shirt.

He should have known this would have happened. As per usual, Phil had landed the looker while he had ended up with the cast off. Dave inwardly sighed and tried not to watch the blonde’s hand gravitate towards Phil’s crotch. He turned and smiled shyly at Amber and waited for his drink-blurred eyes to focus. She really wasn’t that bad looking. Granted the girl wasn’t a stunner like Lisa, but he’d been out with a lot worse. “Where do you lovely ladies like to go next?” he said, trying not to watch Phil’s hand climb up Lisa’s shapely thigh. There was never an ounce of hesitation in Phil’s advances. Even with a few pints down Dave’s throat, he still wouldn’t dare to be as forward as his mate.

Lisa giggled when Phil’s hand reached her backside, but made no attempt to remove it. “We ain’t got much of a choice have we?” she asked. “There’s only two clubs in town, and this is the best one.”

Phil leaned between Dave and Amber and grabbed his drink from the bar. The lad paused to look down Amber’s top before draining the beer. “You know the plan, it’s food time now.” He dropped the glass on the floor. “We’re getting something to eat. I’m fucking starving. I could eat a dead horse sandwich.”

Lisa giggled as if he had just told the funniest joke in the world. Dave forced his mouth into a resemblance of a smile and saw Amber doing the same.

“Well, why don’t we check out that new Indian that’s just opened up off Jackson Road?” asked Amber. “I’ve heard that the food isn’t that bad in there, and it’s pretty cheap.”

Dave nodded. “Oh, you mean the Kashmir Inn? Yeah, that sounds like a good idea, we haven’t been there either.” He smiled at Amber, pleased to see her smile back. Dave then noticed Lisa whisper into Phil’s ear, and they both smirked. He’d seen that look on Phil’s face before, and it usually meant trouble. He also found it disconcerting to see the same expression on the new girl’s face. Dave blinked and turned back to Amber. “We could do with checking it out.”

“Since when did you like curries?” asked Lisa, sneering at her friend. She gazed up at Phil. “Don’t listen to that silly bitch, she’s just showing off. She always gets like this after a few lagers.”

Dave moved closer to Amber, his hand instinctively found hers. He tried to swallow down his explosion of guilt for thinking with his cock a few minutes ago. He squeezed her hand, watching Phil eying up Lisa’s generous curves. It looked as if she’d spray painted that black dress onto her firm body. Oh, she was a vision to look at, but Dave now saw that beneath that luscious flesh; that bitch was just as bitter, twisted, and ugly as Phil.

Phil shook his head and stared at Dave. “Are you two right in your head?” He looked as though he’d just swallowed a fly. Phil squeezed Lisa’s backside. “I want something real quick, like a pizza or a kebab.” He winked at Lisa. “Once I’ve stuff my face with some meat, I’ll then stuff my thick meat into you.”

Phil was such a romantic individual.

“Yeah, that’s what we can do. We’ll get some food and crash at Dave’s house for the night. His mum and dad have fucked off on their holiday for a couple of weeks. You don’t mind, do you, lad? I expect you’ll be glad for the company.”

Dave reluctantly shook his head. There wasn’t a chance in hell that he’d dare say no to Phil. His libido wilted at the thought of just how much tidying up he’d have to do once he’d evicted Phil’s hungover form from his house in the morning. His friend wasn’t the tidiest of people. The last time he’d been over, Phil had walked into his dad’s garden shed and picked up a chisel, and then used the tool to carve his name into Dave’s bedroom wall. When Dave had confronted Phil, he had just shrugged and said that he was bored.

Phil grabbed Lisa’s hand, and he put his other hand around the girl’s chin and pulled her mouth towards his. “You’re about to get the best jump in your fucking life. I’m so going to make you scream out my name, you little slag.”

The girl giggled and placed her fingers between Phil’s legs. “I hope you can last longer than a few minutes.” She looked over at Dave. “Cos if you can’t, I’ll have to jump on his cock.”

Dave felt himself go red.

“That ain’t gonna happen,” growled Phil. “You’re mine, and I don’t share. I’m taking your parent’s bed, Dave.” Phil winked at him and then dragged Lisa across the dance floor, heading towards the exit.

Amber put her hands around his waist and pulled him closer. “Don’t take any notice of Lisa. She’s had way too much, as per usual. The silly bitch will be asleep before your mate can get her in bed.”

Dave chuckled. “That won’t bother Phil, he won’t care.”

“You’re not like that, are you?”

He shook his head. “No, I can state categorically that I’m nothing like him. Half the time I always end up apologising for the big goon.”

She laughed. “It’s okay; I know exactly what you mean. Lisa is just like him. In fact, she’s probably a lot worse. You don’t want to know how bad she can be when the mood takes her.” She looked past him. “We’d better get a move  those two are almost at the door.”

Dave looked at the girl in a new light. He had just realised Amber was just like him, a hanger on. He held her hand while weaving through the crowds. This was just unreal. Why had he never bumped into Amber until now? Dave then saw that young teen pushing her large breasts into the face of her catch and felt so ashamed of his earlier behaviour. He hadn’t noticed Amber until now because he’d been too obsessed in emulating Phil’s desires.

After all these years, had he actually found another human being who lived in this fucking dump that was actually pleasant?

Chapter Three

Only two ladies had ever held Kevin Long's affection, his mother (passed away ten years), and Lady Luck. Right now, Kevin believed that woman must have thought that the sun shined out of his rather large behind. He clamped his pudgy hand over his mouth. Lordy, he'd have sent his mother into an earlier grave if Kevin had ever brought home the feisty young girl who'd been attempting and failing to turn him on. It almost stopped her heart when he announced that the chances of her getting any grandkids from him was close to zero.

At least she accepted his life choice, even if it did take her another five years. He closed his eyes for a moment, wishing he could stop thinking about his mum. Then again, he should know better, she crawled to the forefront of his mind whenever he became too excited or was about to do something very naughty, like what he intended to do to this girl.

He moved his hand back down to its previous position of resting on his thigh, satisfied that the smirk had well and truly left him. This young thing was just what he'd been seeking for tonight. She ticked all the boxes and everything. He'd guessed that his perfect specimen couldn't have been older than seventeen. Experience suggested she could be even younger, probably an old looking fourteen. That smirk threatened to reappear. Experience was one quality that the tart did not possess. If she had, the dumb bitch would have seen him for what he was and run in the opposite direction when he sat next to her. Kevin frowned, thinking back to that moment, just twenty minutes ago. Come to think of it, the girl had made the first move. He shrugged. Whatever. The outcome would be the same.

Kevin's inner radar had screamed at him when she had waltzed into the club. She wasn't a local, but he'd seen her around before and that meant she was fair game. What made the catch even sweeter was that the town's ambience had already infected the little cow. She might have had a belly full of fire, but now it was a raging furnace. No, her parents weren't going to miss this one.

In fact, after watching her behaviour for the last half hour, he concluded that her parents would be glad to get rid of the fiery little bitch. Underage tarts like her disappeared every week in Brutality. The suggestion was that the girls and boys had run away, that they had all been sick of their small town and had fucked off to the larger cities like Birmingham or London in search of a new life. Most local townsfolk knew otherwise. There were a lot of people living in Brutality whose dark urges demanded satisfaction. It surprised him that she hadn't already been swiped; little miss tarty britches must have a guardian angel looking after her.

Kevin couldn't help but to allow that smirk a little breathing room. Hell, he even let it turn into a grin. Her guardian angel wasn't around to keep her safe tonight. Knowing how Brutality worked, her guardian angel had probably been swiped, too, and was now having its celestial arse re-bored in one of Brutality's many alleys.

His catch of tonight wouldn't be getting off with a casual rape. He sighed loudly—if she actually managed to get back to their table. Kevin had given the young girl a tenner and asked her to get a couple more drinks, suggesting that she’d be quicker getting served at the bar. Young girls with revealing outfits had a better chance than some middle-aged, slightly overweight, blond man who spent most of his life being ignored. No, there wasn't a chance in hell that he would be joining that crowd of pissed up thugs. One innocuous comment or accidental nudge, and he could end up on the dance floor, bleeding out from a knife wound.

He then just happened to glance over to the other bar and sighed again. That one wasn't packed three deep with the ones at the front jostling the stressed out bar staff. Just his luck. Then again, why was he getting down? Kevin was still sat on his chair.

Whereas large, hostile looking crowds (were there any other type of crowd in Brutality?) made Kevin, with good reason, very nervous, that girl obviously relished the challenge. She pushed and squeezed her body through gaps that weren’t even there. He would have tipped his hat if he wore one. Watching the girl move was like watching oil slipping through a cracked pipe. Those who didn’t move out of the way, ended up with the tip of her shoes in the back of their ankles.

His worry meter pushed up a notch, hoping she wouldn't end up on that floor  getting that firm little body stood on. After all, by now her guardian angel would be in tears, trying to pull her knickers up her bruised and muddy legs, backing into the corner while her attackers show her what else they were going to fuck her with.

He almost stood up, intending to help her. “Are you right in your head, you big fat gay boy?” he muttered. He got to grips with his feelings, silently thanking the Gods he didn't believe in for allowing him to come to his senses. Kevin also thanked them for not allowing his mother to see him in that state.

Kevin didn't need her guardian angel anyway. His other lady had obviously taken up that responsibility. “She is going to be fine. I should be pitying the people at the bar. Lordy, what an aggressive little vixen.”

He waited until the crowd swallowed her body before turning back to gaze into his empty glass. Kevin found enough self-control to let a quiet giggle escape. His Anton was going to be so proud of him tonight. She was everything that he had stipulated. In fact, it was uncanny just how close this girl fit Anton’s template. He couldn't wait to get this one back to the apartment he shared with Anton.

Would his gift make his boyfriend grateful enough for sex? Now that was the million-dollar question. Oh God, he fucking hoped so. It had been weeks since Anton had gone anywhere near his body.

Anton was such an ungrateful pig. It so wasn’t fair. Just because Anton’s sex-drive had all but fizzled out, it didn’t mean that Kevin’s had vanished as well. At fifty-six, his boyfriend was Kevin’s senior by almost twenty years. The older man often boasted that when he was Kevin’s age his sex-drive was in full gear, and he went through dozens of hot men every month. Whether or not his past exploits was true didn’t enter the argument. What pissed off Kevin was that he would have liked more than the single unenthusiastic fuck every blue moon. Was that too much to ask for? It's ironic to consider that there were occasions when he felt like the older of the couple; heck, he even thought of himself as middle-aged. How could anyone be middle-aged at thirty-six? Then again, just how many males went off sex at fifty-six?

“Oh crap, are you missing out on the fucking obvious?” his mouth dried up when his mind lurched into paranoia mode yet again and sowed his unwanted images of some strapping six four, muscle-bound gorgeous hunk on his knees, thrusting his tongue deep into Anton's backside. That just made it even worse. The last few time they did make love, Anton fucked him, and he insisted on going in dry. “Stop it, Kevin, just stop it.”

He opened his eyes and watched some meathead on the other end of the club trying to eat some blonde girl’s face. Kevin thrust all those insecure thoughts into a box and locked it. He was being silly, and he knew it. Such a thing was just not possible. Despite the man’s peculiar egocentricities, Anton loved Kevin. Plus the fact that Brutality’s gay community was very small. It wouldn’t take long for the news to leek out that Anton had found another man.

Kevin also knew that nobody else in town would be able to cope with his boyfriend’s violent and unpredictable mood swings and his shocking temper. As for his needs, even for Brutality, Anton’s urges were rather unusual. Kevin went out of his way to ensure that he fulfilled his boyfriend’s cravings. He sighed, if only Anton would reciprocate.

“I need to be harder with him,” he said, giggling. Not quite to show him who is boss, but he was sure that he could work out some sort of deal. These weeks without sex were really fraying his nerves.

Little miss jail-bait was returning from the bar, holding the drinks. He wondered if he could plea bargain with Anton and tell him that he wasn’t getting her until Anton gave him a blow-job. Kevin couldn't remember the last time his boyfriend pleasured him. It was ironic to think that the young tart over there was actually thinking that he was going to let her suck his dick. Judging from tonight's shocking behaviour, Kevin would be willing to bet his last pay packet on that girl being able to suck an apple through a tennis racquet.

His last pay packet was already spoken for though. He'd used that to mentally bet that she predicted her amateurish catwalk in a full-length mirror nightly, right before mummy tucked her up in bed with her teddy bears. Why hadn't anyone informed her that walking like that just made it look as though you were suffering from piles? She really did look ridiculous.

She caught him staring and gave Kevin a seductive wink. Kevin winked back. Oh God, he felt his erection softening at the very thought of that child going anywhere near his downstairs equipment.

“So, I see you did manage to get served.”

The girl placed Kevin’s lager down on the table in front of his hand. She took a noisy slurp of her own drink before putting it down next to his. Kevin gazed in revulsion at the bright green concoction. He decided against asking her what was in it. Hell, the dizzy girl probably didn’t know herself and only chose it because she thought the colour went with her eyes. Her stomach would love her in the morning.

Kevin had to turn his head quickly and tried to swallow down the lager to stop him from choking. The poor brat was unlikely to see the next dawn, depending on how excited Anton got tonight.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded, pouting. “Of course I got served, you cheeky bastard. How many times do I have to explain to you that I’m eighteen?”

Kevin took another sip of the vile liquid that bore a passing resemblance to lager and sighed. He couldn’t be bothered explaining that he meant about all those people queuing up in front of the bar. There was no point.

She sat down on his lap and giggled before slowly leaning over to reach her own drink. Kevin’s nose was just millimetres away from her generous cleavage.

“Here, are you trying to look down my top?” She giggled again. “You are, you dirty old bastard.” She stared into Kevin’s eyes. “Is it really true about what they say about older men?”

“What do they say about older men?” He suddenly realised that he had forgotten her name.

“I mean about you lot being far more experienced and stuff. I mean, it sorta makes sense doesn’t it. You’ve had a load more years to practice.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “We all know that practice makes perfect.”

She slurped down some more of her green goo. Kevin had noticed that the little cow had neglected to give him his change. The girl then wrapped her cold fingers around his wrist and placed his hand on her thigh.

“I can tell that you like that, Kevin. Just feel the dress, don’t be shy. Ain’t it really tight, smooth, and slippery? I’m telling you, it’s almost like being naked.” She sighed. “You have no idea how easy it is to slip out of this dress.”

Oh Jesus, he needed to get this little nympho out of this club and into the back of his van as soon as possible. If she carried on like this, she’d end up raping him right here and now. She flung her slender arms tight around his neck and pressed her hot body against his chest.

The scent of the girl’s sweet perfume filled his nostrils, forcing Kevin to breathe through his mouth. What had she done, taken a bath in the stuff? He might have forgiven her if it was an expensive brand, but judging from the way it was burning his nostril hairs, Kevin guessed that her dad had bought some knock off stuff from some dodgy bloke from the market.

“Oh Kevin, I’m so hot,” she murmured into his ear. “Would you like to take me somewhere a little cooler?”

He prised her off his face just in time to see the meathead and a pretty blonde girl walk past them.

“Hey there, big tits, do you fancy a threesome?”

The girl smacked the meathead on the arm. “Fuck off, Phil. I ain’t sharing you with anyone, especially with some twelve-year-old prostitute.”

Kevin pulled the girl back into his embrace and kissed her. He had no choice; the little demon would have launched herself at the other girl otherwise. “I have a big van parked out in the carpark,” he said, pulling away from her lips. “It’s decked out with all the latest mod cons.”

She waited for the blonde girl to leave the club before turning back to face Kevin. “Even a bed?”

He nodded. “Oh yes, even a bed.”

“Ain’t you the dark horse!” she said, chuckling. “I’d have never guessed it, looking at you. It just goes to show that looks are deceiving.”

The girl got that right. Hell, nearly all the locals led double lives. Learning to cover up your secret desires and urges was something they all learned at an early age. Kevin briefly wondered if the girl had any dark desires. Not that he really cared. The girl would be dead soon anyway, and her life, for what it was, would soon be over.

“What’s so funny?”

Kevin hadn’t realised that he was smiling. He kissed her softly. “I’m just happy that I’ve met you, that’s all.” His sudden response surprised the hell out of him, it almost sounded like he meant his words. He put that down to nerves. He always got like this when he was ready to take it to the next stage. Those nerves were all Anton’s bloody fault. He got Kevin so wound up just before he set off in the van.

Anton made Kevin go through the inventory four times before he allowed Kevin to drive off. Did he have the Gaffa tape? Don’t forget the drugs and the syringe. Do you have enough plastic sheeting?

After all these years, Anton still fussed over him like a mother hen. At least, that is how Kevin chose to look at it. In truth, it felt more like his boyfriend did not trust him.

In all the time that he had been grabbing girls and young women for Anton, had Kevin ever bungled a job? No, of course he hadn’t. Anton would never take that into consideration. Kevin sighed, he just hoped that this time his boyfriend would appreciate all the work he put into pleasing Anton. There were a few hidden items stored in the glovebox and under the passenger seat. Anton didn’t have a clue that they were there. He had popped into a card shop earlier this afternoon and picked up a couple of rolls of dark blue wrapping paper and a spool of pink silk ribbon. Anton loved both colours.

Anton was always accusing Kevin of having no imagination. He kept saying Kevin was boring and predictable. Well, he would show him alright. Kevin tried not to grin; Anton would just love his surprise.

He pushed the young clingy tart off his lap and reached for his drink. Considering it had cost him money, Kevin didn’t intend to waste it. How was Anton going to react when he presented the corpse all wrapped up, complete with a pretty bow wrapped around it?

Kevin spat the lager back into the glass. He couldn't drink this vile stuff even if it did cost him money. It tasted even worse than the last pint. He ought to report this club for breaching the trade descriptions act.

“Oh my, haven’t you got really big hands, so strong and firm. I can’t wait to feel them caressing my naked body.”

His hands were indeed going to be all over her body tonight. But she wouldn’t feel them. Kevin was going to spend a lot of time with this one; she needed to be just right for Anton. For a start, he needed to sponge her body down and dry it before wrapping it up. The last thing he wanted was for Anton to choke to death on her cheap perfume when he ripped off the paper.

The girl suddenly ceased her crude attempts at seduction. She obviously must have decided that the hunt was well and truly over now, and that Kevin belonged to her. It wasn’t too difficult to reach that conclusion. Just listening to her rattle on about how her mother didn’t understand gave him the first clue. Kevin only listened with half an ear. He was too intent on getting her from the stage of being alive to being dead to give the silly girl his full attention.

Kevin stood up and grabbed the giggling girl’s hand. “It’s time to go, darling,” he said, smiling. Thankfully, the club wasn’t so full now, so it didn’t take too long to get the girl outside.

As he pulled her across the carpark, he realised the she was still going on about her stupid family. Kevin had made a mistake. She was going to be a screamer. The mouthy ones always were. As soon as she saw the interior of his van, the little bitch would wail like a fucking banshee. Shit, he should have spiked her drink before leaving the club. Well, he’d just have to resort to punching her. Anton got all pissy when he bruised his goods, but if he was careful Anton might not notice.

Kevin then slowly smiled. He’d just thought of an amazing idea. “Do you like to play games?”

She frowned. “I don’t know. What sort of games?”

“What do you think I mean, honey?” Why could he not remember the girl's name? Kevin pushed that annoyance to the back of his mind. It didn't really matter. “I’m not talking about draughts or chess,” he continued. “I mean the games that generally involve handcuffs, black leather, and chains.”

She didn’t reply at first. It didn’t look as though she was going to go for it. His van was now in sight, and Kevin clenched his fist, getting ready to hit her.

“Fucking hell, Kevin. You really are a dark horse, ain't you! God, I love bondage.”

He silently sighed with relief. “They’re not real, of course,” he said, lying. “They’re just quick release, but you can’t tell the difference.”

“Is all that stuff in your van, Kevin?” She laughed out loud. “Oh my God! It is, I can tell by the look on your face!”

Kevin gently squeezed her hand then nodded happily. This was going just great. It looked as though everything was going to turn out just fine. She wrestled her hand out of his grip and raced over to the vehicle. The girl leaned back against the black transit. Kevin ground his teeth when she placed her stiletto against the paintwork.

“Kevin, I need you to kiss me.”

He shrugged. He could do that again, it seemed like a reasonable last request. As he leaned towards her puckered lips, another sweet scent suddenly invaded his nostrils. Oh fuck, Kevin knew this aroma intimately.

Someone grabbed the back of his shirt and dragged Kevin away from the grinning girl. He attempted to spin around and face his assailant, only to feel two pairs of rough hands wrap around both of his arms.

“Will you stop struggling, you annoying man?”

Oh, no, it really was his Anton! His aroma was unmistakable. What was he doing here? “Anton, is that you?” he spluttered. “What are you doing here? I have it all under control, I promise.”

The young tart started to laugh. So did someone else. Kevin whipped his head around and saw the face of a grey haired stranger grinning right back at him. His heart began to race; he got the feeling that he’d just been set up. In fact, he was sure of it. Oh, bollocks, it all began to fit together, no wonder this girl matched Anton’s description.

“Right then, Kevin. I have somebody who is just dying to meet you. That man holding your other arm is called Daniel. Don’t be rude, Kevin. I want you to stop staring, and say hello to him.”

Kevin gave the grinning fat slob a single withering glance. So, this was his replacement. How could his Anton do this to him? How could he humiliate him after all of his faithful years? Kevin refused to allow the hot tears flow; he wasn’t going to stand for it, no way. There would be no more compliant Kevin from him, and they were both about to find out just how hard he could punch somebody.

“Can we do the queer now?” asked the girl, giggling.

“Shut your fucking hole!” the stranger shouted.

Something wasn’t right with this scene. A huge slab of wrongness speared through Kevin’s feelings of hurt and betrayal. He then yelped in surprise as he felt something sharp pierce the small of his back.

“Please don’t be mad at me, Kevin,” Anton whispered behind him. He ran his finger around the outside of Kevin’s ear. “I can always tell when you get all stressed out. Your forehead furrows up like a ploughed field. It’s very cute.” Anton moved into his vision, turned to face the man, and planted a single kiss on his cheek. “How long until the drug takes, Daniel?”

“It’ll take just a few seconds. In fact, we should be able to release him now.”

“Just what the hell is going on?” said Kevin. He was seriously confused and more than a little frightened now. The two men then let go of him. Kevin remained where he was. Try as he might, he could not move his arms.

“I’m sure that you of all people are aware that there are a vast amount of dirty secrets in this town,” Daniel said. “The folk do their nasty little deeds either behind closed doors or out of plain sight. Well, I intend to bring it all out into the open. Just you wait until the others in town smell you, they’ll go crazy.”

Kevin tried to tune the man’s whiny little voice out. He closed his eyes and tried to move his fingers. Those fuckers had injected him with something. Well, they weren’t going to beat him. Kevin put all the concentration he could muster in trying to move his thumbs.

“We did have some good times, Kevin. I don’t want you to feel sad. You should feel privileged here. You’re about to wake up an entire town. You’re going to be our very own beacon of hope.”

“More like a beacon of light,” Daniel said.

The girl giggled. Kevin’s eyes shot open when he heard the sound of sloshing water. The ugly man waved a bottle of water in front of his eyes. He unscrewed the cap and emptied the contents over Kevin’s feet. The fumes hit him immediately. It wasn’t water. That stuff smelled like lighter fluid.

“Oh God. Jesus, God no. Anton! Please, don’t do this!”

The man showed him another bottle and poured more of the liquid over Kevin’s trousers. The prostrate man screamed and raged as Daniel poured the remaining liquid over his head.

The only man that Kevin had ever loved reached into his back pocket, brought out a Zippo lighter, flicked the wheel, and threw the lighter at Kevin’s shrieking form.

Chapter Four

The large flat stone just missed the cat’s head by about an inch. The missile bounced off a green wooden gate, rolled along the edge of the kerb, and dropped into an open storm drain. The black and white cat whipped its head around and hissed at the four of them before it shot across the road and darted under a hedge.

“I could have got that fucking moggie good and proper if you hadn’t coughed, you stupid little turd.” Phil glared at Dave. “This is all your fault. I can't believe how noisy you are. You’re such a dumb twat.”

Despite Phil's acid comments, Dave felt quite chilled out. Random acts of low level cruelty and insulting him was the closest Phil ever got to being happy. Dave supposed he should be thankful. Compared to some of Brutality's inhabitants, Phil was a frigging angel.

The girl clamped on Phil's arm chuckled. Lisa had been creating that bizarre noise ever since they left the club. It sounded like a cross between a motorbike setting off, and a quacking duck. When he first heard it, Dave thought Lisa had got something stuck in her throat. That was five streets ago. Now whenever she made that noise, Dave wanted to punch her. Christ knows how Lisa's mate put up with that sound. She must have been listening to that girl’s annoying giggles for ages.

Whenever Phil came out with something that he believed was funny, Lisa would inevitably laugh alongside him. So, his so-called best mate had finally found a soul mate. Why did it not surprise Dave to discover a female equivalent to Phil in Brutality? What did shock him was that the town wasn't all that big; surely by now this pair would have crossed paths by now?

This is all he needed. Another person who enjoyed showing off and inflicting misery on those around him. Phil had been out with some nasty cows in the past, but this one took the biscuit. Dave just hoped that the novelty wouldn't last too long. Putting up with another Phil was liable to put him in the ground.

“You really are a dumb cunt, Dave. Then again, I’ve known that for years, so I shouldn’t be that surprised.”

Dave hadn’t coughed at all. He had no idea that he was going to throw the stone at that poor cat.

“I bet you didn’t know that your new boyfriend was a cunt, Amber.”

Amber gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ve heard that opinion is also in the eye of the beholder, Phil. Somehow though, I suspect that a handsome chap like you has known that for a long time.” She waited until Lisa turned away and back to playing the role of Phil’s attentive girl before she gave Dave a sly wink.

Bloody hell, that was just great. Amber had managed to appease the nasty gorilla and Lisa with that piece of borderline diplomacy. Even so, once he was alone with her, Dave would have to take the girl to one side and explain that sometimes it was just a better idea to keep quiet. If you confused the bloke, he did have a tendency to lash out with those hard fists. His policy was smacking them first, just in case they were taking the piss out of him.

“As you fucked up my aim and let that bastard cat run off, I think that you deserve to be punished. I reckon that you ought to buy me supper.” He grinned at Lisa. “What do you think?”

She giggled. “And what makes you so fucking special? I mean, if he's going to all generous with his money, then he ought to be buying my supper as well.”

Dave silently groaned. He couldn't believe that he'd fallen for that one yet again. Why did he not see this one coming? The bastard had pulled this trick on him loads of times. This night out was going to cost him a bloody fortune. “Okay, Phil. Fair enough. We’ll have to stop off at a cash machine though; I don’t have that much money left.”

Phil stopped dead. He ran over to a low wall and leaned over the top then stood up. He uncurled his fist, showing them a large round stone. “Oh, look what I've just found.” He rubbed his mouth. Thing is, Dave. I'm not sure that I believe you. Your wallet is always crammed with notes.”

“Come on, man. How can it be full of notes? I only get the same amount as you.”

Phil frowned. “Short of robbing you which, I might add, might be still happen, I'll assume you're telling the truth. It's going to cost you though. I expect you to but me my lunch at work for a few days.”

Lisa released another one of her squeaky laughs.

“There’s a hole in the wall on the other side of the street, Dave. Oh, and don’t even think of running off. I won’t miss this time.

Dave sighed and then stepped out into the empty road. He allowed Phil’s threats to wash over him. Dave was used to his behaviour. How much was this going to cost him? He tried to work out how much of last month’s wage was left in his account, but his drunken mind refused to cooperate.

“Oi, fuckhead!”

Dave resisted the temptation to spin around and face Phil. The bastard had caught him out like this before. He’d turn around, and Phil would launch that stone right at his face. Phil would roll about the ground laughing while he’d be nursing yet another bruise for a few weeks.

“Cloth ears, don’t you dare fucking ignore me.”

Dave counted to three, told himself that it would only hurt for a few seconds before turning, getting ready to duck. He saw that Lisa had her slender hands on Amber’s shoulders. She then pushed the girl off the kerb.

“What the fuck have I told you about leaving all your shite lying about?” shouted Phil. “Catch us up, you turd, and don’t take all fucking night either. I’m hungry.”

He glared as Phil and Lisa took off hand in hand, giggling like a pair of school kids. “Are you okay?” asked Dave, picking Amber off the floor.

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine, Dave.” She brushed some bits of broken glass from her jeans. “The bitch has done far worse to me.”

He helped her across the road. “Well, I suppose I had better withdraw the last of my wage. It’s best not to keep him waiting.” Dave had finally worked out how much he had left in his account. It wasn’t good. He’d have to break into his board-money to pay for tonight. His parents weren’t due back until Wednesday; he was sure that he could find somebody to sub him the money before then.

Amber grabbed his arm and frog-marched him over to the cash machine.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought it was obvious. I’m making it look as though we are going to the cash machine.”

“But we are, Amber.”

He turned his head and saw the others cross an intersection. Dave guessed that Phil would be taking his new piece of nasty arse over to the Spicy Meat Hut over on Scarman Street. It was their local takeaway. The food was cheap, and the owner knew them and always gave Phil extra portions. Dave then groaned in misery when he saw Lisa point up the side street. Phil turned and waved before following Lisa up that street.

“Oh, this is just bloody great,” he muttered. “I can do without this hassle. Amber, that’s where all the posh restaurants are.” He would have to take out all of his board-money, and that fucker was going to bleed him dry.

“Right, it’s okay, they’re gone.” Amber pushed him up against the wall. “Now, let’s sort you out before we sort each other out.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed Dave softly on the lips. She pulled back and grinned. “You don’t have to say anything; I can see your response on your face. You see, I took the liberty of going through Lisa’s purse while we were in the toilets. I think that she ought to be paying for this night out, don’t you? After all, it was her idea to go upmarket.”

Oh God, this was so weird. Dave thought that he could be falling in love. Phil could keep the blonde, Lisa might be well tidy, but that girl really was a horrible person, just a thin coating of pretty over a rotting chunk of meat. Dave stifled a giggle. “Wait, you’re telling me that you stole some money from Lisa? Oh dear, you’re nothing but a dirty little thief.”

Amber kissed him on the nose. “I’ll show you just how dirty I am later on, Dave.” She propelled him towards the cash machine. “Come on, we still need to make it look like you’re grabbing some money in case they’re still watching us.”

It wasn’t fair. He wanted to take this lovely girl home right now. Fat chance of that happening, he wouldn’t dare leave Phil. That fucker knew where he lived. He tried to think of other things instead of his mate wrecking his life.

“Don’t you feel guilty about running off with her hard earned cash?”

She shook her head. “I used to but not anymore. Besides, it wasn’t hard earned. Her dad is stinking rich. All she has to do is flutter those pretty eyes and her old man hands over a couple of thick wads.”

Dave slid his card into the machine.

“I just see it as compensation now. It’s my way of getting my own back for her being a complete bitch to me all the time.”

“Why do you stay with her then?”

“Why do you stay with Phil?” she replied.

He sighed, “Well, it can’t have escaped your attention that folk in this town aren’t very neighbourly to one another.”

Amber shivered. “When my parents moved here last month, I thought we had arrived in hell.”

Dave’s head snapped up when a horrifying shriek echoed through the cold night air. He looked at Amber’s frightened face.”

“What the bloody hell was that?” she hissed.

He shrugged. “Welcome to Brutality. Stuff like that happens a lot. You get used to it, eventually.”

Dave placed his card back in his wallet. If his balance was correct, he should have enough money to last him until next week as long as he didn’t pig out on food. Dave took Amber’s hand and led her across the road.

“As for my taste in friends, Amber. Well, compared to anyone else of our age in this shitty town, Phil is the best there is. Sure, he nicks my money, uses my house as a rubbish tip, and don’t forget the few odd slaps, but at least I can go out and have a drink with him.” He stopped in the middle of the road and turned to stare into her beautiful eyes. “Does that make sense? Sorry, I've had a bit too much to drink. If it wasn’t for him, I’d have stayed indoors, hiding under my bed, and listening to the drunken night-life kicking the shit out of each other.” He pushed back her long brown hair. “If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have met you.” Dave leaned forward to kiss her, fully expecting her to close her eyes and kiss him back.

She placed two fingers on his lips and halted his progress. “Later, Dave. If you start all that, I’ll end up getting too excited.” Amber hurried across the road and then looked back. “I want to wake up next to you, Dave. If we don’t follow this through, we both know what’ll happen; I’ll be visiting you in hospital.”

Dave caught up with her just as she passed a shuttered up discount store. She held out her hand. His fingers encircled hers. He’d been with a few of the local girls since he and Phil had started visiting the clubs, and every single one of them bar none were very similar to how Lisa behaved. Granted, maybe not as bitchy as Phil’s new floozie but still enjoyed the same selfish, nasty, and self-centred traits.

He smiled at Amber and felt the butterflies in his stomach go crazy when she smiled back. Dave couldn’t lose this one. At last, he had found a normal girl in this town full of freaks and psychos.

“Which one do you think they chose?”

Dave knew exactly where he’d have taken Lisa. Grassmere Street had six Indian restaurants, three on each side. There wasn’t much difference in five of them in taste or price, and after a few pints, it never mattered anyway. The Saffron Inn on the other hand was in a class of its own. The food was exquisite, but the prices were unbelievable. The Saffron Inn was reserved for overtime weeks and special occasions. Dave pointed to the white faced building just a few shops away. “They’ll be in there. I’ll guarantee it.”

“Come on then, Dave. Let’s go spend all of Lisa’s cash. I hope they have some decent beer.”

Dave grinned. “Oh, yeah, it’s a lot better than the swill they serve in the clubs.” He envisaged Phil drinking bottle after bottle whilst eating his way through as many dishes as he could. He then had an amazing idea. “How much of Lisa’s money did you take?”

“About £300, I think, why?”

“Well, there’s a bed and breakfast just around the corner. Why don’t I just buy the bastard a couple of drinks, pay for the meal, and then I’ll drop a few hints about the bed and breakfast. He’ll go for the idea, I know he will.” Dave grinned. “I’ll use my own version of psychology on him; make it look as it was his idea. He’ll go for it; the place is closer than my house, less distance to walk.”

She nodded. “He wanted a takeaway in the first place.”

“I reckon that he will go for it. He only came in here to piss me off. Besides, I know what he’s like when he picks up a new piece of flesh. He can’t wait to tear off the packaging…” he looked away, embarrassed. “Sorry. I’m only quoting his words.” Dave was about to tell Amber that he wasn’t like Phil, when three people rushed past them, almost knocking the girl into the road. It was that bloody girl again, the scantily clad schoolgirl that Phil was eying up earlier. What were they up to?

Dave recognised one of the men; he worked at the plant in one the offices upstairs. Anton his name was. He wouldn’t forget that name in hurry, Jesus, not after what happened in the staff canteen a few weeks ago. That bloke had been responsible for almost getting Phil the sack. He’d just happened to walk past their table at break and accidentally knocked Phil’s arm just as he’d lifted up his cup of coffee. The warm liquid had soaked through Phil’s white overall. Naturally, he’d reacted in his usual fashion of jumping out of his seat, smacking the apologetic man in the nose, and calling Anton a few choice words relating to his sexuality.

Dave watched him stop beside the black door of the restaurant a few doors from them, open the door, and bellow into the building, he then ran to the next restaurant and repeated the procedure. The other two were doing the same on the other side of the street. He watched the stranger reach the Saffron Inn.

“What the hell are they playing at?” Amber gasped. “This is way too weird, even for this town.”

He couldn’t agree more. “Call it a gut feeling, Amber, but I reckon that we should make ourselves scarce.”

Something was definitely wrong in the town tonight. Ever since that scream earlier on, he’d felt a change in the air.

“Yeah, suddenly, I feel like a lamb in a town full of wolves.” She wrapped her arms around Dave’s back. “I’m really scared, Dave. Is it just me? It must be the booze. Lisa insisted on plying me with all these stupidly expensive cocktails. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

As they turned, all the restaurant doors crashed open and the once deserted street filled up with Brutality’s nightlife. The crowds of jostling people rushed along the pavement, all heading in their direction.

Dave grabbed Amber’s hand, and he pressed himself against a steel shutter just as four teenage girls, all dressed in matching green miniskirts, pushed past him and Amber. He stared at their vacant faces. Christ, the girls all looked drugged up to their eyeballs. Looking around, the other people all wore similar expressions. He squeezed through the advancing masses, keeping close to the shop fronts. He daren’t let go of Amber’s hand. Dave ducked into an alcove and pulled the girl in. They stayed there in shocked silence, watching dozens of people spilling out of the restaurants and running to catch up with the main crowds.

He then recognised a couple at the tail end leaving the Saffron Inn. Dave ran out of the alcove and jumped up, waving his arms. “Phil!” he shouted. “Phil, over here, what’s going on?”

The lad turned around, gazed at Dave, and then turned back and continued heading towards the others.

“He didn’t even recognise me,” he muttered, walking back to Amber. “He had no idea who I was, and he was smiling. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen Phil smile.”

Amber looked past him, and she pointed at a lone figure leaving the same restaurant. “Look at him, Dave. He looks as confused as we are.”

“That’s Robert; he was in my class at school.” Dave turned to Amber. “He wasn’t born here either. Come on,” he said, pulling her out of the alcove. “Let’s see if he knows what’s going on.”

The rest of the other people had now disappeared, all heading towards the town centre. Robert just stood outside the restaurant with his hands on his hips. He had a feeling that the lad knew about as much about this odd situation as Dave and Amber.

“Robert!” He yelled.

The lad looked over, saw them, and waved.

“At least he still knows who I am,” he muttered. “Robert, where are they all going?”

Robert walked towards them. He shrugged. “I haven’t a clue, guy. One minute, we were all sat around the table laughing and joking, when all of a sudden this freakazoid slams open the front door and says some bloke is on fire. Everyone starts to laugh, and then this smell follows Mr Freakazoid in, and everyone shuts up and rushes out like they were hypnotised or something.” He shakes his head. “Look, guy, it’s good to see you and all that.” Robert looks back towards where the others had gone. “I have to split; my girlfriend was in that crowd.”

The lad ran off.

“His family moved into Brutality almost a decade ago, but don't you find it weird how only the ones born in town have turned into sheep?”

Amber shivered. “This really is all too much for me, Dave. Did he really say that someone's on fire?”

Dave nodded.

“I don’t believe that. I mean, I’ve heard all kinds of rumours of general shitiness whilst I’ve been here but not anything like that. Somebody on fire? I mean, we’d have heard the sirens by now, surely?”

Dave didn’t immediately reply. He’d lived here for most of his life. Some folk around here were capable of doing such a heinous act and more besides, but it was kept in the closet, nobody admitted to anything, therefore it didn’t happen. “We ought to follow them, Amber.”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure we should. Let’s go somewhere else, somewhere safe.”

“We need to know. Look, we’ll just see what all the fuss is about. It’ll only take a few seconds.”

“A minute,” she replied, sighing. “Then we get the hell out of here.”

They followed Robert back towards the centre. Amber kept tight hold of his hand. He daren’t look back. Amber was right; they shouldn’t be doing this. Despite living here for most of his life, the people born here had many times treated him as though he was just passing through the town.

Dave stopped and picked up the stone that Phil threatened to throw at him.

“Oh Jesus, Dave, look at that!”

He followed her pointed arm and saw a huge column of thick smoke rising into the night sky. “They’re over there, outside the nightclub.” It looked as though the whole town was packed into the club’s carpark. He saw a little girl wearing a thin nightie sat on top of a middle aged man’s shoulders. As they got closer, Dave could hear a man’s deep voice booming out from the middle of that crowd. At this distance, he couldn’t make out the words, but he certainly saw the effect he was having on the people.

The crowd sighed as one, then another burst out in cheers.

“Time to go,” Amber said, tugging at his hand. “This is so wrong.”

He shook her hand off and jumped onto a car’s bonnet. He then saw Phil pushing his way to the front of the crowd with Lisa close behind him. Phil’s arm then snaked out and grabbed Robert.

“Let’s do another!” he shouted.

The crowd burst into cheer once more. Dave jumped off the car, grabbed hold of Amber, and bolted in the opposite direction.

Chapter Five

Gavin McAllister swung his feet off his desk, taking note that both heels took nothing with them this time. He'd been doing this for most of the night, finding new and inventive ways to amuse himself. Christ, he was so frigging bored. Not one soul had passed through those police station front doors since he started his shift, and the phone hadn't rung once.

On any other night Gavin would have embraced the boredom. Hell, he'd have taken it into the games room, shot some pool, and drunk coffee until the sun came up. This wasn't any other night though. This was Saturday in Brutality. The night when the workers let their hair down and painted the town red. Only in their case, it was generally in blood. He'd worked the Saturday night shift in other small towns before, and they all followed the same pattern. You had the preliminary call outs, the occasional beating, a few accidents, but nothing too major. The fun and games didn't usually start until last orders.

He glanced up at the battered white metal clock bolted to the wall. Last order came and went over an hour ago. Like the other towns, Brutality followed the same pattern, only much worse. The locals didn't know the meaning of drinking in moderation. This is so wrong,” he muttered. “It’s almost Sunday. Where’s the drunken brawls and the stolen cars? Not even one broken window.”

For six long months he'd been stuck in this horrible little town. He leaned back in his chair and mentally counted off how many Saturdays he'd suffered through. Gavin stopped at twenty-three, remembering the shotgun incident at the Saffron Inn last week. He looked back at the phone one more time, wondering if he might if misplaced a day earlier on in the week, and this was in fact Friday.

No, this was Saturday all right; he still remembered the car crash earlier on. Standing by that blazing wreck, watching flakes of ash rise up, he honestly thought that this Saturday was going to be the one to top them all.

That reminded him. Gavin leaned forward, opened his bottom drawer, and pulled out the leather roll-sack that he'd collected from the scene of that accident. He carefully picked up one of the knives from the leather satchel and held it out in front of him, watching the light reflect off the metal. He didn’t need to be a forensic scientist to tell him that this ordinary looking kitchen knife had been used for more purposes than just to cut cucumbers and tomatoes. He’d already spotted flakes of dried blood around the base of the blade. Looking closer, he now saw more dried blood on the handle. Knowing what he’d learned so far about Brutality, it would definitely be human blood.

What worried him more than anything else was that this fun fact nugget failed to shock him, not after what he'd witnessed in the last few months. He placed the knife back, rolled up the leather, and dropped the lot back into the drawer. After his shift finished, Gavin intended to lock the knives in his car. It was the safest place. Gavin locked the drawer and dropped the key into his top pocket.

He’d take a drive over to Eastmere station in the morning and let their lab boys take a look at them. He should have done this weeks ago, getting outside help was the only way Gavin would sort out this diseased town. There was no point in keeping it local; conducting an investigation in Brutality would be a complete waste of time. Nobody would admit or talk about anything.

Gavin hated this hideous and depraved town. If he had known what this place was really like, he would have told his DSI to go fuck himself. He’d been brought in from Eastmere when the local DI had just disappeared. Nobody had seen sight or sound of the man. It was as if he’d just dropped off the edge of the earth. He stopped dead and blinked. Bloody hell, it really had been six months! He honestly thought he'd be back in his local station within a month. Had they forgotten about him?

“It's just like I've dropped off the face of the Earth,” he whispered.

He double-checked that he’d locked the desk drawer and stood up. He stretched his legs and tapped his shirt pocket. He’d learned recently that leaving evidence lying around was just asking for it to disappear. “Just like the DI,” he thought. That included anything left in his drawers. After all this time, Gavin still had no idea who was removing property. It could be any of the local officers, and knowing the sad excuses that passed for police in this weird town, it was probably every one of his so-called team.

He always got the distinct impression that all the other officers were sharing some sort of private joke when he was around them. The only other person in the office tonight sighed and quietly coughed. Gloria was supposed to be the station’s administration personnel officer. This, as far as Gavin could make out, was just another name for a glorified secretary.

According to what he had read from out of her file, Gloria was forty-six and had been an employee of Brutality’s small police force for twenty-five years. Going through all their records had been his only method of finding out just who he was working with. None of them would ever volunteer information. Even so, he wasn’t totally sure that even the records were truthful.

He watched the woman scrape her chair back, stand up, and walk past him, yawning. As per usual, Gloria had blanked him. Gavin sighed. This was so annoying. Of all the people he worked with, he thought that he’d been making a little headway with the woman, and she was starting to treat him with a little bit of dignity. It looked as though he had been mistaken.

The woman then shocked him stupid by gently placing a cup of coffee on his desk. She’d never done that before. He covered up his surprise and smiled. “Thank you, Gloria.” Even if it she had only brought it over from the free vending machine by the front door, it was the thought that counted. This time last week she would never have even done that.

When he had first arrived to this hellhole, Gloria was just as bad as the rest of them, if not worse. Gavin watched her return to her desk and wondered if this was just another one of their strange games, the secretary version of good cop, bad cop routine. It might be just another one of their ways to get him to leave town. Gavin wasn’t too sure if he should drink the coffee.

He watched her sit back down and smiled at her, then picked up the cup. What the hell, if she had placed anything in there like glass or nails, he’d soon find out. Gavin took one sip and winced, the stuff from the machine was awful, and if Gloria had placed anything suspicious in the drink, at least it would improve the flavour. He had always assumed that the coffee from the machine at Eastmere couldn’t be beaten for grossness. “They don’t need threats,” he murmured. “I’d leave tomorrow if I could.”

Gloria was married to Gavin’s new sergeant, a delightful individual called Andy Stewart. The thickset man made no secret of his dislike for Gavin. That was a mild way of putting it. The man hated him and didn't give a shit who knew. He glanced over at the man's wife. Even after all this time, Gavin still couldn't figure out how they could have ended up getting hitched. They said that opposites attract. Well, in this instance they did.

It was safe to say that the woman wasn't exactly a catch. She did her best to cover up every inch of femininity. It was almost as if she wanted to erase every clue that pointed out that she was even female. Is that what the man wanted for a wife, a gender neutral slave whose only purpose in life was to clean up after Andy and provide him from food?

There was no way anyone could accuse Andy of being gender neutral. Oh no, his sergeant was a real man. He loved a bar fight, drank, smoked, swore, and chased skirt. The fucker couldn't be any more stereotypical 70's cop if he tried. The local women adored him.

Gavin had sent him to check on the victim’s shop. If he was a victim, that was. Somehow, he doubted that. Judging by the knives that he’d found in that leather satchel, Gavin guessed that he was a victim maker. It hadn’t taken Gavin that long to trace the owner of the Range Rover. Despite each and every one of them refusing to speak to him, Gavin still had the skills he’d carefully honed over twenty years of being a detective. For this particular case, though, he had only needed his eyes. He had passed the white Range Rover parked outside the hardware store every day on his way to work.

Sending Andy to check out the shop was probably a complete waste of time, and the chances of that blundering idiot actually finding anything was slim to none. In fact, it did surprise Gavin that the sergeant had even listened to him. That bastard gave him more grief than all the others put together. That reminded him, the constables on duty tonight were supposed to be patrolling the town centre. He couldn’t recall any of them passing him.

“Gloria, do you know if the boys have left the station?

“Of course they have,” she replied, without looking up. “They hurried out while you were in the toilet.”

He stared at the woman, not believing that she’d had the guts to tell him such a bare-faced lie. Even after a month of this bullshit, it still pissed him off at how easily they all covered up for each other. He glanced over at the station door and just knew that those two coppers had not left this building. He knew exactly where the buggers were hiding. They’d be playing brag in the locker room. The woman did everything for those boys, and they returned the favour by treating Gloria like shit. Her husband was the worst of the lot.

The woman then jerked her eyes towards the open window. “Hey, can you smell that?”

He took a tentative sniff and wrinkled his nose. Oh, hell, that was just disgusting. What the bloody hell was it? The stink reminded him of meat burning on a barbeque. “Yeah, I can smell it.”

She rushed passed Gavin and started to close the window. “Oh, Andy’s back, that’s his car turning into the carpark.”

The car’s headlights shone through the windows. He shouldn’t be back already. There was no way that the sergeant could have got to the shop and returned in such a short space of time. He leaned across his desk and switched on the fan, hoping that it would help to disperse that revolting smell.

The locker room door slammed open, and the two missing constables and the duty officer ambled into the room. Gavin looked up at Gloria and watched her face turn a delicate shade of red. She didn’t like being caught out. It was good to see that at least one of them in the station still had a small amount of scruples. Unlike those three who’d just entered. He heard them laughing and discussing just how much cash was owed to whom. Their disdain for his authority was disgraceful. Again, he wished he were back at his old station. There really was no point in giving them a dressing down, he could shout and scream until he was blue in the face; it did nothing but raise his blood pressure and stress him out.

The first man through the door was a young blond man called Shaun. His parents lived in one of the many farms that dotted the outskirts of Brutality. By looking at him, anyone could be excused for thinking his parents fastened equipment to the lad and used him to plough the fields. The lad was huge, and he easily made two of Gavin. He was even bigger than Andy.

The pair behind Shaun both looked across at Gavin. They saw his glare and treated their superior officer to a glare of their own. He wanted to run over there and twat the pair of them. Genie and Howard  were both in their mid-fifties, and if he’d had his way, he would have retired them by now. Come to think of it, if he had his way, Gavin would have had them both thrown out of the force. They weren’t fit to wear that uniform.

Howard turned to his companion, and he whispered something. They both giggled like a set of school kids. Genie removed his helmet, ran his thin fingers through his salt and pepper coloured hair, and smacked his companion on the shoulder with it.

“No, I’m not asking him,” Genie said, looking at Gavin.

Shaun stopped in mid-stride and shivered and groaned. Gavin watched a rope of saliva drop from the lad’s mouth and drip to the floor.

“Are you okay, son?”

Howard just laughed. “Don’t trying to pull the sickie routine, you big ape, just because you lost your fucking wages.”

Gloria rushed past Gavin. “Shaun, what’s wrong?”

The big man slowly raised his head at the sound of the woman’s concerned voice. Gavin slowly moved out of his chair, keeping his eyes on Shaun. That big, dopey looking, slightly grouchy expression had vanished. The feral look of hate and lust that replaced it caused Gavin’s heart rate to double in speed.

“I’ve always fancied a piece of your arse, Gloria,” Shaun said.

Gavin leapt across the desk and ran into the youth. His sudden action caught Shaun off balance, and the lad fell back into the other two. The lad unleashed an animal roar; he shook his companions off him and charged Gavin. The DI found himself falling against the side of his desk. He heard the front door crashing open and the foul stench of burning meat filled the station.

Gloria screamed out her husband’s name. Gavin never thought he’d be happy to see his Sergeant.

“Andy!” she screamed. “There’s something wrong with Shaun!”

Gavin got to his feet, ignoring the pain shooting through his side. Shaun was too big for one man, and Andy wouldn’t have a hope restraining him without help. Gavin lifted his head, and his eyes darted to the sergeant, hoping he was okay. He just gaped at the scene before him. All of the officers were stood around Gloria’s desk. They’d pushed everything off and hoisted the woman onto the surface. Two of them held her head down while Shaun was trying to pull her legs apart. Her husband stood with his back to Gavin, but it was obvious what he was up to. Andy was slowly unbuckling his belt.

Training kicked in, Gavin shook the nausea away, pulled out his police baton, and cracked Andy in the back of the head. He should have just whipped out his legs from under the man, and it would have achieved the same effect. Shaun turned around, still holding Gloria’s legs. He tried to head-butt the DI, and when the man jerked his head out of his reach, the huge man growled. He let go of Gloria’s legs and ran at Gavin; he tried to evade him but the desk got in his way.

A pair of huge hands encircled his neck and started to slowly squeeze. Gavin gazed into the insane face and knew that he was running out of life. Everything started to go grey, and in a panic he swung the baton into the side of the man. Shaun grunted but didn’t release him. He hit him again, but he knew it was a futile gesture; it was like hitting a branch against a tree trunk.

“Get off him!”

The pressure lessened, he saw the woman hanging onto Shaun’s arm and screaming at him to get off. His response was to grunt again, and then boot the woman in the thigh as if she was no more bothersome than a poodle humping his leg. Gavin smashed the baton against the man’s waist, but Shaun didn’t even bother to respond. Gavin’s strength was almost gone, and Shaun probably didn’t even feel it.

Gavin’s world suddenly exploded. The pressure around his neck dropped off, and he felt something heavy falling in front of him. He opened his eyes and gaped at the headless corpse lying in front of him. The smell of cordite and hot blood competed with the stench of burnt meat.

Rubbing his neck, Gavin stepped over the body of Shaun, trying not to step in any of the black and scarlet wet gore splattered across the polished wood tiles. He gently took the automatic pistol out of Gloria’s trembling hand before pushing the woman towards the station entrance. He looked at the gun and then at Gloria.

“I took it out of Shaun’s holster. He didn’t even notice. That bastard was going to rape me. They all were.”

She said that without showing a single drop of emotion. Gavin needed to get the woman out of here; the poor sod was running on adrenalin.

The two officers who’d been holding her head both grabbed the edge of the desk and got back on their feet, they both sported bloodied noses. He saw the woman’s red-stained knuckles and grinned. This lady knew how to look after herself.

“She’s mine.”

Andy leaned against the vending machine pointing an automatic pistol straight at Gavin’s head. Oh fuck, he obviously didn’t hit the bastard hard enough. The man then groaned and coughed, dropping his gun arm and grabbing the side of the metal cabinet to stop himself from hitting the floor. Gavin turned around saw the open locker room door and ran for it before Andy’s head cleared enough for him to realize that they were escaping.

Gavin took one last look at Shaun and then pushed Gloria into the locker room. That fucker had loaded his weapon with hollow-points. He’d found a Tupperware box full of the things last week whilst searching the house of a well-known burglar. The bowl had gone missing two days later. Well, that was one mystery cleared up.

They weren’t safe in here, no way out either. Shit, he should have risked it and run for the door. He looked at the trembling woman next to him who was preoccupied with picking small lumps of grey jellied matter out of her hair. No, he did the right thing, if he’d have been alone he would have risked it, but he couldn’t, not with Gloria with him. She was a civilian, and he had to protect her.

Gavin put his hands against the woman’s shoulders and moved her away from the door. One blast from Andy’s cannon, and that door would be in splinters. He figured that the sergeant would have loaded his own gun up with hollow points as well. Gloria’s muttering and sobs were making it hard to listen to what the three remaining officers were saying. He placed his finger against his lips. It was the only way he could think of to convey his wishes. Gavin couldn’t yet talk; he found it hard enough to swallow. Gloria ignored him and continued to mutter. He saw no other choice and slapped the woman’s cheek. Gavin regretted it immediately; everyone knew that Andy beat her, but what else could he have done? Gavin grabbed her shoulders, ignoring her flinching, and placed her back where she first stood.

“Shout for Andy,” he croaked.

Gloria shook her head, so Gavin raised his hand, feeling a part of his honour wither and die when the woman flinched and began to sob.

“Do it.”

“Andy!” Gloria screamed.

Gavin quickly placed her against the wall and watched the door handle turn. When the door opened a crack, he grabbed the edge and wrenched it open. Andy fell into the room, and Gavin rabbit punched the man and ploughed his boot into Andy’s hand. The pistol skated across the floor and disappeared under the lockers. He grabbed Gloria’s hand, raised his own pistol, and ran into the main office. When he saw the two other officers preparing to jump on him, he fired the pistol into the ceiling and pulled Gloria towards the entrance.

Chapter Six

Dave risked a swift look over his shoulder, fully aware the thundering boot steps were right behind the pair of them. He couldn't keep up this pace, he felt like his heart was about to fucking explode. Dave swung his arm forward and managed to snag Amber's wrist. “Wait on, please, for Christ's sake!” He pulled her back and pressed both of their bodies behind a concrete pillar, hoping none of the others had noticed.

“We can't stop now!” she hissed.

Dave took a second to get his bearings. He almost cracked a smile when he saw where they were. “Who's stopping? Come on, you, in here.”

“You are joking, right? Come on, it's a dead end!”

“Trust me,” he replied, pulling her into a narrow alley between the town's only bank and a pharmacy. It seemed like a lifetime ago since they were stood at the bank's ATM just around the corner. It felt even longer since he was last in this alley. Dave pushed those thoughts away and focussed on the present, just praying that none of those drugged up freaks were paying attention to his disappearing act. Their boot steps were getting louder.

He pulled Amber further into the gloom, wanting to flatten his back against this damp wall and hope they'd all run past them. He dare not take that risk, though, not with the way his luck was running. Even in the dull light, he saw Amber's terrified face. She must think he had lost his mind pulling her into here. Listen to him, putting himself down yet again. If he only attracted bad luck, then why was this gorgeous young girl hanging on to him for dear life?

Oh fuck, he couldn't let anything to happen to Amber.

Dave hissed in surprise when she squeezed his hand even tighter.

“What have you stopped for? Oh God, please don't tell me that it is a dead end!”

Dave shook his head. “It isn’t, I promise.” He looked at the huge iron gate at the end of the passageway, remembering stumbling into this place a few weeks ago. He and Phil had been staggering back towards the main junction when he suddenly decided that if he didn’t piss right there and then, his bladder would explode. Phil had smacked him around the back of his head, pushed Dave into here, and told him not to be long. As he had relieved himself, he noticed just how rusty the padlock was and figured that a few good kicks would have destroyed it. Dave had made a mental note of the place, thinking that it would be a decent place to bed down if he had ever been locked out of his house.

As he ran over to the gate, he silently thanked the God of beer that despite his advanced inebriated state, Dave had made the correct assessment. He didn’t think it would take more than a couple of boots. “Soon find out,” he hissed. Dave slammed his boot hard against the padlock, wincing as the violent noise echoed around the alley. He looked in disbelief, moaning. His kick hadn’t even loosened it.

“Don’t stop, kick the bloody thing again!”

Dave nodded and raised his leg. He stopped when Amber let out a terrified squeak. He whipped his head around and saw a small figure silhouetted at the end of the passageway.

“It’s just a little girl,” Amber whispered. “Maybe she can’t see us. It is fucking dark down here.”

He guessed that the girl was only about seven or eight. Dave wondered how Amber would react if he suggested charging through the passageway, knocking the kid out of the way, and taking Amber somewhere safe. He saw no other solution. Dave could hardly start kicking the padlock again, not with her stood there. He wanted to scream with frustration. Why the fuck did he take her down here? He should have lost them in the outskirts of town.

He heard the little girl draw in breath and realized the bitch knew they were down here. When she did start to scream out, her high pitched bellows set his teeth on edge. Amber raced towards the girl. He thought that she was going to do what he intended and slap the brat. She skidded to a halt halfway up the passageway, bent over, and picked up something from the ground. Dave watched her run back, wishing that she had slapped the brat; her noise was giving him a headache.

“Move out of the way,” she hissed, pushing Dave against the wall.

Amber had picked up half a brick. Oh, for crying out loud, he had seen that on the floor. Why had he not grabbed it? The girl lifted the brick up and smashed it into the padlock. Even from where he stood, Dave saw the lock give a little.

He couldn’t stand her noise any longer. Dave spun around and raced along the passageway, hearing Amber smashing the brick into the padlock again. He reached the little girl and pushed her out into the road. She stopped making that dreadful noise, but he saw that it was too late. A small group of men had already stopped.

Dave ran back through the alley, groaning at the sight of Amber hitting that padlock; she was having about as much success as he had. He glanced behind him and groaned again when he saw two large men stood at the front of the passage. They slowly grinned before walking towards them. They both held broken bottles in their hands. Amber smashed the brick into the lock one more time and screamed in triumph when the padlock flew off in two pieces.

The two men growled. They must have thought they had the pair trapped. They broke into a sprint. Amber pushed open the gate, turned, grabbed Dave, and shoved him through before following him and shutting the gate.

“A lock, oh, thank you!” she cried.

As she slammed the bolt home, one of the men thrust his thick arm through one of the gaps in the gate and wrapped his fingers around Amber’s hair. She screamed out in agony as the man tried to pull her hair through the gap. Dave growled and pried the brick out of Amber’s fingers and slammed it into the fist of the man who was attempting to pull back the bolt.

Dave gained great satisfaction in hearing the bones in the man’s fingers crunch, and he grinned like a madman when the bastard screamed out in agony. He watched the man release the bolt and Amber’s hair before staggering back into the crowd of other townsfolk just behind him. He pulled the sobbing girl away from the gate. “Put your back against the wall,” he whispered. Dave flattened his own back against the rough stone and waited. Within a few seconds, another set of fingers pushed through the gap. Dave waited until those fingers were over the bolt before he smashed the brick into those as well.

“You dirty little bastard!” growled a voice.

He presumed that it belonged to the man now holding a mangled hand.

“I’m going to rip you apart for that.”

The voice was still cursing him but was now retreating. Dave breathed out, not realising that he’d been holding it. Dave worked up the courage to pull his eyes from that bolt to see where they had ended up. He could hear no more voices or footsteps coming from the passageway, and he just hoped that they had gotten the message and had gone looking for any poor fuckers who weren’t armed with half a brick.

They stood at the edge of a disused concrete yard. Judging by the state of the place, he imagined that they were the first humans to have set foot in this yard for a long time. This was now the domain of the local wildlife. Dave took a tentative sniff and found that the faint aroma of cooking meat had gone, but another equally unpleasant smell had taken its place, it was the stench of decay.

There were dozens of piles of ripped open black bin bags scattered across the yard, and that revolting aroma was emanating from some of those bags. He sighed, and thought this must be one of those forgotten places where some of the restaurants dumped their left over food.

“What do we do now?” Amber jerked her head from side to side, her gaze landing on the tall walls surrounding them. “We’re trapped, aren’t we?”

He stroked the side of her cheek. “We’re not trapped, Amber,” he said, hoping his gentle words would help soothe her anxiety. “You’re looking in the wrong place. Can’t you see that?” he said, pointing to a low wall stretching from one building to another. “The yard isn’t fully enclosed.”

“I wonder where it goes.”

He shrugged. “I’ve no idea; then again, it doesn’t really matter. Anywhere will be better than here.” Dave didn’t mention that it was their only route out of here. The townsfolk were sneaking back along the passageway. Fuck, the bastards hadn’t left to find easier prey. Dave put his finger to his mouth and nodded over at the gate. Somebody else bravely pushed a hand through the gap. He counted to five before smashing down the brick.

“Let’s move!” he hissed.

Amber nodded and moved away from the wall. Dave followed the girl, watching her carefully pick her way through the bags, heading towards the low wall. He spun his head at the sound of something slamming into the gate and watched a single finger poke through the gab and retreat just as quickly. Oh, no, they weren’t going to give up! Dave turned back and silently urged the girl to pick up her pace. They didn’t have much time left.

He jumped as three rats shot out from under a black plastic bag just inches from his feet. It took a great deal of self-control not to scream when he saw the little furry bastards were everywhere. Oh God, he just hoped that Brutality's rats were nothing like their human equivalents! The three rats scurried past him and vanished under a pile of stinking rubbish.

Amber screeched to a halt, she must have seen them too. He moaned quietly at the sight of the biggest rats he had ever seen calmly looking up at Amber. Fuck, it was close enough for her to reach down and pet the bloody thing. She didn't move a muscle. After what seemed like an eternity, the rat jumped into another split bag. Dave shook his head in admiration, not believing that she was being so calm about the encounter. He was shitting himself; he fucking hated rats.

“These bags stink,” she muttered, gingerly stepping over one. “I don’t even want to know what could be inside them. Still, it's keeping the rats happy I suppose.” Amber reached a low brick wall that came up to her waist, and she peered over it.

“It'll be all the restaurant waste,” he said, reaching the bag that Amber had stepped over. Made total sense to him; after all, this was Brutality, a throwback from another time. People did what they wanted here. Dave kicked the bag out of the way and choked back a scream when a severed hand fell onto his shoe.

“Are you okay?”

He pushed it back under the bag and jumped forward, standing between her and the rest of the bag's contents, just knowing that the rest of a cut up body would be in there. Oh Jesus, were all of these bags full of bodies? No wonder the place was crawling with rats. Both Amber and Robert said they'd heard rumours about what happened in this town. He thought he knew otherwise, but mass murder? “It's nothing, Amber,” he said, proud that he had said that without breaking into tears. “It's all these rats. I can't tell you how much I hate the bastards.” All he wanted to do was to get out of here, get out of Brutality, and hold Amber as tight as he could. He strode over to the girl, not wanting to think about the insides of the other bags around him. Dave reached the wall and looked over.

Amber tore her gaze away and looked back at him. Dave looked into her fear-filled eyes and wondered if he looked the same to her.

“Dave, what the hell is that stuff down there?”

A slow moving river of dark sludge passed by them about twenty feet from where they stood. Dave shrugged, not wanting to even guess. It certainly wasn’t water, judging from the rank smell coming from the stuff. Dave looked back at the bags and shuddered. He then noticed dozens of large pipes jutting out along the walls along the narrow corridor. Thick glutinous fluid dripped from some of the outlets, splashing into the sludge below. Dave wasn’t that far wrong with his first idea regarding the bags. It looked as if the restaurants had already found another method of disposing their unwanted food. He wondered where it all went.

“Right, I’ll drop down first,” he said. Dave climbed on the wall. He turned and kneeled down.

“I really don’t think this is such a good idea, you know. That stuff stinks. Christ knows what’s in it. We’ll probably end up with a dozen diseases if we go down there.” She looked over the wall. “We don’t even know how deep it is, you could end up going under and drowning.”

Dave had already guessed what was waiting for them down there. He was about to drop into a river of mouldy, rotten pieces of dead things, combined with whatever the fuck was dripping out of those pipes. “I know all that!” he cried. “What choice do we have though?”

Amber whimpered when the alley gate rattled.

“Don’t worry,” he said, just hoping she wasn’t right about the depth. “When I get down, I’ll catch you.” Dave swung his legs over, followed by the rest of his body. He felt the sharp gravel digging into his fingers. Dave took a deep breath just in case and let go.

The drop wasn’t so bad. His feet must have only been a few inches from the surface when he released his hands. The vile slop had the consistency of thick mud. Dave watched as his body slowly sank down. The panic grabbed his heart like a steel vice as his waist disappeared. “Oh fuck,” he gasped. “No, I don’t want to go like this.” Dave looked up, into Amber’s terrified eyes. This brief thought of wondering if he’d just seen his last image vanished when his feet touched the floor. The stuff came up to his shoulders. The stench was just unreal; it seemed to have a physical presence.

“Come on, Amber. Do it.”

She shook her head. “I can’t, it’s too far down.” Amber gasped and jerked her head around. “They’ve got through!” she sobbed.

Dave pushed his body through the gelatinous substance until he was flat against the wall. He heard them running through the bin bags. The girl climbed down, almost losing his grip in the panic. He put his hands around her waist and lowered her in. “Keep your mouth firmly shut,” he whispered.

He slowly moved forward, staying against the wall. None of the ones above had thought to look down here yet. They sounded like they were searching through the bags. “Do you still have Lisa’s money?”

Amber nodded.

“That’s a bloody relief,” Dave hissed. “I’ve got a good idea. Do you fancy going to Alton Towers tomorrow?”

Her quiet sobbing receded enough for her to call him crazy. He smiled, thinking that he heard just a tiny bit of humour in her voice, however strained. Dave just wished he had someone to encourage him.

It felt as though they were now moving up, the level moved down to his hips. In the shadows in front of them, Dave could just about make out the shape of a narrow platform. “We’re nearly there, sweetheart.”

“Found the bastards!”

Two male faces stared down at them. Dave recognised the younger man; it was that miserable barman who’d served them drinks in the club. He bent over, picked up a large plastic bag, and held it above his head. The man roared in triumph, but before he could throw it, the bag split open and covered him in what looked like lumps of wet dog food. The older man beside the bartender sniggered.

“You fucking moron.” The older man stooped down, picked up a brick, and dropped it into the culvert.

Dave pushed the girl and jerked his head forward, crying out as the brick bounced off his back and sank into the sludge. Amber somehow found his hand beneath the stuff. She squeezed and dragged Dave away from the wall. “What are you doing?” he said.

“Look!”

There were some concrete steps just ahead and a door set into the grey wall. He looked up and saw the two men kicking rubbish down, no doubt looking for more bricks. Amber pulled him onto the steps. He didn’t want to think what they’d do if the door was locked. He could still hear the bastards kicking rubbish into the muck behind them. By the sound of it, they were throwing in stuff much larger than bricks now.

“Oh no,” Amber moaned. “They’re following us in.”

He turned his head and saw a dozen of them lining up along the edge. They were all going to jump. Dave ran up to the door, not daring to look back. He heard the multiple splashes. “What do we do now?” he shouted, staring in frustration at the metal plate covering the door.

He frantically beat his fists against the metal while listening to the multiple splashes behind them. Dave felt the girl’s slime covered arms wrap around his waist. Her sobbing drowned out the excited voices emanating from behind them.

The door shifted in its frame. Dave gasped with relief at the sound of the lock clicking and the door swinging inwards. A pair of hands reached out and pulled them both inside before the door swung shut.

In the dim light thrown from a dozen candles set in either side of a stone corridor, Dave could just about make out the craggy features of an old man staring at the pair of them as they stood there shivering. As his eyes got used to the ambience, Dave realised that he knew this man. He’d seen him hanging around the shopping centre in town, asking people for money.

“Don’t look at me like that, boy,” he snapped. “Just who did you expect to be down here? No, don’t bother answering that one. Come on, you had better follow me.” He looked at the girl before turning his attention to Dave. His features softened. “I really am sorry.” The man then spun back around. “Come on!” he snapped.

The man led them out into a huge stone built chamber. Dave stopped in the middle and slowly turned around, gazing in awe at the domed ceiling. This must have been hundreds of years old; it looked like some ancient temple. Dave had never seen anything like it before.

“Oh, I’d better introduce myself. Sorry, I’m not used to company anymore. I’m Max. I would say that it’s good to meet a pair of non-locals, but under the circumstances it would seem somehow a little false.” Max wrinkled his nose. “Whoa! I never thought I’d ever say this, but you two smell worse than I do. Let’s see if I can find you some more clothes that don’t have the stench of rot clinging to its fibres.”

Dave took a deep breath and suddenly wished that he’d kept his nose shut. The tramp was right; they both stunk of rotting meat. He pushed back the thought of what they had just waded through to get here.

Amber grabbed Dave’s hand. “Please, can you tell us just what is happening out there, why are they all chasing us?”

Max sighed heavily. “Child, I’ve been outmanoeuvred. Look, at the moment you’re safe. Allow that to comfort you for the present.” He turned and hurried over to a large stone slab set in the middle of the chamber. “You know, this wouldn’t have happened if the powers had sent me some more colleagues,” he said, dropping to his knees. “I was due some more over two hundred years ago. I guess they decided that the other places took priority over Brutality. Well, looks like the powers aren’t as infallible as they make out.” He then stared at Dave. “Unless this is all part of their plan as well.”

Dave watched him crawl along the floor until he stopped by the base of the slab.

“I thought so,” he said, picking up a cardboard box and dropping it on the surface. “I knew I had some spares. They’re a little dusty but a lot cleaner than the stuff that you’re wearing.”

He followed Amber towards the box, his swirling mind having difficulty taking any of this in. He then gasped when he heard the sound of smashing wood.

Max glanced towards the doorway. “They found a way in! Take the girl and go over there,” he hissed, pointing to an unlit passageway. “Go on, get out of here. I’ll try to join you.”

Dave nodded, grabbed the box, and followed Max’s direction, daring not to turn around as he heard the sound of excited shouting getting closer. The girl beside him began to sob again.

“Is this nightmare ever going to end?” Amber cried.

Chapter Seven

Jackie Pullman squeezed just a tiny exclamation of breath when the corroded links betrayed her presence by clanging against each other. She leaned forward and wrapped her filthy fingers around the thick chain, keeping her eyes fixed on the back of those chairs. It looked as though luck was on her side tonight. The two old bitches hadn't heard Jackie moving about. Her good luck wasn't likely to last if she didn't find a more comfortable position.

She carefully stretched out the chain, pulling it tight whilst opening her legs. Resting her heels against the bare floorboards, Jackie arched her back and stretched her arms, keeping them parallel to her shackled legs.

Ada Fairclough and Betsy Palmer preferred to watch the shopping channel without any distraction. Betsy had made this fact perfectly clear on more than one occasion, and each occasion had proved to be very painful for Jackie. The row of narrow bruises running along her shins, a reminder of the consequences of fidgeting, had only started to fade. Betsy's number three stick was the culprit from that particular beating. Jackie could still hear the noise it made as the hateful cow brought it down on her leg. She'd received twice as many as the allotted punishment because Jackie had cried out after the first strike. She should have known better. Jackie knew full well what happened when she defied them.

It just wasn't fair. That vile bitch was supposed to be going out tonight. Jackie could just about cope with Ada. She could be just as nasty as Jackie, but Ada's mood swings weren't so severe, and neither were her punishments. Ada preferred the traditional methods. Jackie's hardened mind and body shrugged off the occasional slap and the not so common ear punch.

Betsy was supposed to be visiting one of their friends on the other side of town tonight. Jackie had overheard her boasting to Ada that she had been chosen to ‘break in’ another visitor that they had caught in Brutality. Jackie had felt the marrow inside her bones liquefying when she had heard Betsy utter those awful words. She knew exactly what she had meant; it’s what those two had done to Jackie and her brother James all those months ago.

She stretched her back, feeling the bone in her spine crack. Thanks to those two, she felt as though she’d aged about thirty years since they had captured them. Jackie glared at the back of Betsy’s tatty maroon high seat chair, wishing for the millionth time that she had a long kitchen knife. Just how satisfying would it be to push the blade through that decaying upholstery and feel the gratification of listening to the old bag’s death rattle as the metal entered the woman’s dried up body? Jackie would kill Ada as well but only after she had made sure that Betsy’s nasty life was definitely extinguished.

It was that dirty Betsy who was the main instigator. She was the one who had taken great pleasure in stubbing out her cigarettes on Jackie’s arms, leaving dozens of unsightly circular scars on her wrists and forearms. That dirty bitch had also enjoyed taking a blunt knife to hack off her once beautiful blonde hair. The foul hag took her time with the task, grinning and laughing like a hyena every time Jackie cried out in pain. All that happened in the beginning though. Recently, her punishments had become more inventive, more severe, not to mention more painful.

She gasped in fright when her leg quivered and the chain rattled, it sounded deafening. Betsy spun her head around and matched Jackie’s glare with one of her own. “Just how many times do I have to punish you? You’re doing that on purpose. Do you think I’m totally stupid? What do I have to do to keep you quiet?”

The other woman coughed into her hand. “Do you not think you could rein in your silly temper for a few minutes?” she asked, staring at a gobbet of glutinous green phlegm sliding down her palm. She poked the mess with her bony finger before bringing her hand up to her face and sucking it back inside her mouth. “Will you please leave that poor girl alone? You're making more noise than she is.”

Jackie turned away, not wishing to watch Ada's chewing motions any longer.

“Now, Betsy. I need you to concentrate. Cast your sparkling green eyes on that pair of framed pictures. Don't you think that they'll look lovely hung over the fireplace?”

The chair's springs groaned in protest as Betsy settled back into position. Jackie breathed a silent sigh of relief. Whether deliberate or not, Ada had just saved her from receiving yet another dose of unwanted pain. The springs moaned again when Betsy leaned forward. How long could that dilapidated antique chair continue to hold the old cow’s weight? For weeks now Jackie had stared at that hateful piece of furniture, watching the bloody thing degrade day by day. Surely it couldn’t take much more punishment before it just collapsed. How fantastic would it be to watch the bitch sit in her favourite chair as it crumpled? Then for the wooden legs to splinter, push through the fabric, and pierce her black heart. Just like her knife fantasy, the chance of that ever happening was slim to none. Still, stranger things had happened, and besides, thinking of ways the fucker would die kept Jackie going unless, of course, that bitch did finally carry out what she kept threatening and murder Jackie.

Oh fuck, why did she have to keep going with that thought? Jackie had just broken her own unspoken rule. She had promised herself weeks ago not to ponder over her mortality, not ever.

Jackie already knew that she and James weren’t the first people to have ended up trapped in the insane women’s house, and she wasn’t the first person to have these chains around her ankles.

She choked back a sob when their capture flashed through her mind. She closed her eyes and forced herself to calm down; thinking back to that night would not do her any good. Trouble was, now that her subconscious had vomited up the experience, Jackie just couldn’t let go of the images. She didn’t remember how they had caught them, there was no image of a bunch of insane townsfolk chasing them through the streets or cornering her and James in some alley. She guessed that they had got them from behind and got them nice and quietly.

From what she heard overheard, the fuckers had plenty of experience in kidnapping strangers.

They had both woken up with a splitting headache. The first thing that Jackie saw was that their hands and feet were chained together, and they were alone in some junk filled room that stunk of decay and stale piss. Whoever had tied them up knew what they were doing; they were both trussed up like oven-ready chickens. After what seemed like a day of hoarse shouting and cursing, her brother had finally quieted down and tried to find some clue as to their whereabouts. He had discovered initials of somebody’s names scratched into a floorboard under a rusted bed. They had found six other names etched into the floorboards before their kidnappers had come for them.

She heard the old bag’s chair creak one more time and tensed up, waiting for the inevitable blast of verbal abuse. Jackie pressed her fingernail hard against her palms when she saw that Betsy was just reaching for her knitting. She had soon learned early on that it was best not to give them any unwarranted trouble. Most of the time her tactic worked, and they usually left her alone.

Her brother had done the opposite; he had fought them all the way. James had refused to bow down to any of their screams and threats. He had just ignored Betsy’s manic screams, and when the old bitch had slapped him or hit him with her favourite bat, he had just laughed back at her and spat his blood at the old woman. His defiance and the fact that he’d never stopped looking for way to escape was the reason they had locked him in the cellar.

It had been weeks since she had last seen him. The only clue to if he was even still alive was that every so often she’d catch one of them leaving the door open to the kitchen, and Jackie would hear them putting something on a plate before descending into the cellar.

Not that their actions meant anything; the old fuckers were both as mad as a box of frogs. As far as she knew, her brother could have died weeks ago, and they were just going down there to feed the rats. The image of a dozen rats feeding on her brother’s corpse jumped into her mind.

She could feel her hot tears beginning to make yet another unwelcome appearance. What was wrong with her today? Where did all this extra emotion come from? Good God, could she not stop her imagination from getting out of control for just a few minutes? Jackie needed a distraction. She turned away from the back of the chair and gazed at the threadbare carpet beside her chained up ankles. There would be no crying today. It was obvious that Betsy was in one of her moods. If that bitch’s ear caught so much as a whimper escaping from Jackie’s mouth she would be on her like a ton of bricks. If there was one thing to guarantee a good beating when Betsy was like this, Jackie sobbing like a baby was right at the top of that list.

She waited for her volatile emotions to calm down a little. The old bags were now engrossed in their stupid programme, and she decided that it was safe to continue. She slowly pushed back the carpet, revealing a portion of floorboard. Jackie shuffled forwards whilst holding the chain in both hands. Her movement made the minimum of noise. Jackie picked out the broken needle from between the crack in the floorboards and added one more mark next to the other scratches. She didn’t think that she had lost a single day although it was difficult to tell as all the calendars hung on the walls showed different months. They changed the dates on the calendars every morning. Jackie had no idea why, it was just another one of their strange traits.

The auction for those two framed prints was about to close. Jackie dropped the needle back into her hiding place and lifted her foot, watching the carpet roll back. She needed to be as quiet as a sleeping mouse for the next few moments. The old bags were about to start up their daily argument.

Ada would accuse Betsy of having mothballs in her green purse or being frugal with their weekly allowance, and calling her wicked and uncaring because the woman hadn’t purchased those framed prints.

According to her scratching in the wood, these two fucking nutjobs had argued over these prints fifty-four times now. Her tears were springing up again, and this time she didn’t think she’d be able to hold them in. Jackie wanted them both to just fucking die so she could be able to escape from these two vile witches and their crazy habits. Their constant bickering was sending her insane, but it wasn’t half as bad as their collection of ancient videotapes that the bitches played one after another. It was always in the same sequence day in, day out. They had just enough for one day’s viewing.

She leaned to the left and looked through the narrow gap between the bitches’ chairs. Jackie glared at the untidy heap of tapes stacked up against the side of their old television. The tape on the top showed Julie Andrews skipping through a bunch of fields. It took an incredible amount of self-control not to try to pull out her chains and strangle the old bastards before they had chance to push that video into their machine.

Ada would clap and laugh, gushing at the sight of the von Trapp kids as they first came down the stairs and saying that Julie Andrews was so beautiful. Betsy would reply by calling her a filthy whore.

Of all the crappy videos that the bitches watched, Jackie hated The Sound of Music the least. The two fuck-ups usually left her alone while this one played. They also fed her as the end credits rolled. Just like everything else in their choreographed existence, the meal never altered from one day to the next. They gave her the same cracked blue plastic plate with a cold portion of baked beans, a slice of dry bread, a small lump of cheddar cheese, and half an apple. Still, at least they did feed her and never forgot.

Jackie listened to the pair baiting each other, following their usual routine of insults, trying to judge whether Betsy’s bad mood had lifted a little. She really did hope that it had; the last time the bitch had been this cranky, Betsy had given Jackie half a wax apple and made her eat it.

Oh God, just what she would do to taste just one slice of hot pizza or meatballs and mash, or even a bag of chips with scraps and covered in salt and vinegar. The chance of those two fuckers giving her anything different was about as likely as Betsy pushing in the wrong video or the nasty bitch’s chair collapsing. Jackie let out a quiet sob. No matter how hard she tried to keep it in, she just couldn’t help herself.

“You just make one more noise, little miss,” snarled the voice from the chair in front of Jackie. “Go on, I dare you, and you’ll soon see what you’ll get.”

She stuck her tongue out and took a deep breath. Thinking back, a pizza had been the main reason why she and James had ended up in this despicable house with only the two insane zombies for company. They had both been celebrating the fact that they had managed to make it through the final year at university with degrees to their names.

Jackie had wanted to enjoy their unexpected success with inviting all their mates to Blackpool and having a huge piss up. Not James, though; oh no, he had suggested otherwise. For some stupid fucking reason, he wanted to go on some hiking trip, just the pair of them.

She had no idea how James had managed to convince her to go with his idea, but she was glad that he had. Jackie had never admitted it to James, but she had thoroughly enjoyed the adventure.

A small town called Eastmere was to be their last stop before heading home. They’d rung ahead and booked a room above a pub. Their changing moment occurred when Jackie spotted a signpost stating that the next town, Brutality, was only one mile in the next direction. Eastmere was still eight miles distant. For her rumbling stomach, that seemed like a lifetime away. She persuaded James that it really was in their best interests to take a small detour. It seemed like such a good idea at the time. They could have stopped off at the town and got a pizza before making their way to the room for their final sleep.

Jackie sobbed again.

The old women jumped up and squeezed her thin body between the two chairs. “What the heck did I just tell you?” she screamed. “This is why you haven’t got your stupid pictures.” Betsy turned her head. “It’s her again; the little cow is distracting me.” Betsy grabbed Jackie’s forearm. “You’re doing it on purpose, dirty little tart that you are. I’m not senile, you know.”

The girl tried to snatch her arm back, she didn’t care how much her struggling would piss off the old bag, and Jackie couldn’t let Betsy burn her arm again.

“Will you leave her alone, dear?” The other woman leaned around. “Come on. The Sound of Music is about to start, Betsy. You’ve been waiting for this all day.”

The fury in the old woman’s eyes died.

“Are you going to be a good girl?”

Jackie nodded.

“Well, I’m holding you to that promise. Any more noise from you, and I’ll put this fag out on your eyeball.”

Betsy sat back down, chatting away to Ada, acting as if nothing had happened. Both women immediately stopped their chatter and slowly stood up, looking towards the window. Jackie could see movement outside. Oh Jesus, she prayed that it was the police. The doorbell rang twice.

“Who could that be?” Ada muttered. “This is so inconvenient.”

Betsy glared at the girl behind the chair. “I don’t know. Why do you always ask me stupid questions? What time is it?” The old woman turned around and helped Ada up.

“It’s just past nine, Betsy.”

It was always just past nine, the hands on all eight clocks hadn’t moved since they chained her in this room. Jackie used the distraction to make herself a little more comfortable, watching them both leaving the room and shutting the door behind them.

Betsy had dropped her pen. It had fallen off the side of her armchair when she had stood up. Jackie crawled over and grabbed it. She held it tight in her hand before bursting into tears. What the fuck was she going to do with this?

Jackie saw herself wrapping her arms around Betsy’s scrawny neck, pressing the point against her skin and ordering Ada to let Jackie go free. The whole idea was just ridiculous. They were both as mad as hatters. They wouldn’t listen to her.

The front door opened, Jackie heard the sound of male voices, and her heart began to race. Maybe it was the police. She got to her feet and lurched forward as far as the chains would allow, hoping to see a police car parked outside. There were two cars parked in front of the bitches’ front garden, neither of them were police cars. Crying out would be a futile gesture. The saloon belonged to some local shopkeeper, and he already knew that they’d chained her up behind their chairs.

Jackie heard the cellar door creaking open, muffled voices filtered through the door. One of those raised voices belonged to Betsy; Jackie had heard enough of her noise to know when she was annoyed. This was different; the bitch was on the verge of hysteria. The sound of flesh hitting flesh silenced her voice. Had someone just slapped her?

“We’ll only have one left.”

Jackie listened to Ada repeat her last statement before the unmistakeable sound of her groaning brother reached her ears. “James!” Jackie ran towards the door, stumbling when her chains snapped taut. “Leave him alone.” The bastards were taking him away.

The door slammed open and Ada rushed over, she dropped to her knees and pressed her hand against Jackie’s mouth. “Hush, child. Don’t even think of making a sound.” The woman glanced towards the open door.

Jackie heard the sound of laughter.

“Anton and Daniel wanted to take you as well.” She gently tapped her swollen eye. “This is my reward for opening my mouth and sticking up for you.” Ada then dropped a small key into the girl’s hand then closed her fingers over it. “Wait until we go to bed then leave us. Your brother has gone but there’s still time to save yourself.”

Chapter Eight

It seemed to Gavin that the woman was too concerned over a few spots of greasy black oil splattered over her dress and shoes than actually doing what he asked. He peered over the car bonnet and scowled at her. “For crying out loud, Gloria, will you please keep an eye out for me?”

“What do you think I have been doing? Bloody hell,” she hissed. “I only looked away for a couple of seconds. Give me some credit. Don’t treat me like a child, Gavin. Do you seriously think that I want to meet up with those bastards again? It wasn’t you that they tried to rape.”

Gavin looked away from her accusing eyes, wishing that he had just kept his mouth closed. He returned to the task of trying to get this door open, wondering why the woman constantly tried to make him feel so incompetent. He hadn’t expected her to throw herself at his feet and thank him for saving her life; he had known the woman long enough to know that her brain wasn’t wired like that. A simple thank you would have been nice though.

Maybe it was the simple fact that the woman had spent her entire life as a wife being ridiculed herself, and any attempt to show concern just made her annoyed and perhaps a bit fearful.

“I’m cold,” she moaned. “How long are you going to be?”

“Will you be quiet!” he hissed. What the hell, maybe the silly woman would respond better to an abrupt and offensive attitude. It’s how every other male treated her. “Can’t you see that I’m trying to concentrate?”

“Do you even know what you are doing, Gavin? Whatever it is, you don’t appear to be having much success.” She patted the car’s bonnet. “Why have you chosen this rusted up old heap anyway? There are lots of newer cars further down the forecourt.”

Gavin looked up at Gloria, trying to work out if she was serious. By the look she gave him back, she honestly had no idea why he had chosen this car. He began to wonder if he had made the correct decision in bringing her. He then felt guilty for even thinking of such a degraded thought.

“This is just so wrong,” she muttered. “Jeffery Dunn would probably go spare if he saw us skulking around his second-hand car dealership.”

“Sweetheart,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Jeffery Dunn has probably turned into a freaky sadist, just like your loving husband. As for what I am doing, you wouldn’t understand. Just keep a bloody eye out, and for the love of God, will you please stop talking?”

Gavin gripped the nail file tight and pushed it back into the lock. He thought of the Dog and Gun, his favourite local in Eastmere. He couldn’t wait to get back there and taste their ales again. He smiled to himself. With some luck, he might even be able to get there tonight after he’d filed his report. This was a job for the big boys; he didn’t know what the hell had happened here but he no longer wished to have any part in it. Gavin nodded, now that was something to look forward to. He tuned out the woman’s voice, not believing that she still hadn’t shut up.

This bastard was taking too long. It had been years since he’d tried to break into a car, and he had obviously lost the knack. The last time he had done this, Gavin had been just a teenager, on the other side of the law. The only reason why he had gone for this battered old wreck was that he thought he’d have a better chance of getting into the bloody thing. It was a mystery why the owner would have this heap on the forecourt in the first place. It stuck out like a sore thumb. All his other cars at least looked sellable, but this thing hadn’t even been washed.

He then heard the familiar sound of the lock disengaging. He smiled and slowly opened the driver’s door. “You haven’t lost the knack after all,” he muttered. Gavin climbed in and reached across to open the door for Gloria, hoping that after all this effort the car would start up.

“Look at that,” she whispered. “Those hooligans have lit yet another fire. What do they think they are playing at? It’s not November fifth, is it? I so hope they haven’t set some poor woman’s house on fire or somebody’s car.” She climbed inside and stared at him. “I think you had better take me home, Gavin, just in case.”

“We have already discussed this, Gloria. We are leaving town and getting help. I’m not going to take you home.” He stared into her confused eyes. “Do you really want to be in that house all alone when Andy and his mates walk in?”

She slowly shook her head.

“As for what they are burning, just take a wild guess, honey. Houses and cars don’t smell of cooking meat, do they?”

The confusion vanished when his implication took hold. “No, no way,” she gasped, shaking her head. “Nobody could be that evil.”

“They are setting people on fire, Gloria. If they manage to catch us, you know we'll be next in line.”

Gavin reached into his pocket and pulled out a police radio. “Here,” he said, handing it over. “I lifted this from your husband. I think it will come in handy, you know, to find out what they are really up to.”

Why did he have to go and do a stupid thing like that? The woman didn’t need to know what those freaks were burning down in the centre of town. Then again, maybe she did. It was about time she pulled herself out of her denial and faced reality. Gavin watched her fingers nervously play with the frequency button on the left side. He didn’t believe this. After all those years working for the force, and she didn’t know how to operate a radio?

So far, the radio hadn’t revealed that much information apart from a crackled report about what those mad bastards were actually burning in the carpark. Gavin had turned the volume down to its lowest setting while they had been hiding from that roaming band of locals after escaping from the police station. That had been the only time when the radio had sprang to life, when the pair had been crouching behind that privet hedge.

“Gloria, what are you doing? The volume control is on the other side. You’ll have to turn it up.”

He took his eyes off the woman and peered through the windscreen, and despite his earlier thought of wanting to get out of this town, he still wondered if he was doing the right thing in leaving. He had been sent here to protect this town. Leaving it made Gavin feel like a rat deserting a sinking ship. He sighed. Of course this was the right decision, and he couldn’t exactly protect the people when they all wanted to kill him. Driving out was the only solution available.

Gavin dug his phone out of his other pocket. There was still no connection or signal. The bloody thing was dead. What else did he expect though? Gavin had already checked his phone countless times since their escape. Somebody certainly knew how to isolate the town to throw the place back into the 20th century. They must have disabled all the transmitters. Not a hard task really, considering every network had bolted their equipment to the old brickwork’s chimney. It was the only building tall enough to get a signal out of the valley.

“What are you doing now? Wait, don’t tell me that you are able to start a car with your phone, Gavin.”

He showed her the screwdriver that he had picked up off the garage floor a few minutes ago. “No, of course not, this is my key,” he replied, grinning. “It should only take me a few minutes to get this old thing going. Don’t worry, Gloria, this is one trick that I do know.”

Gloria opened the glovebox, and she rummaged around the inside, muttering to herself. The woman then giggled and pulled down the sun visor. “I thought so. Here you go,” she said, handing him a set of keys. “Andy keeps a spare in the exact place. I guessed Jeffery would do the same.”

Some copper he was turning out to be. Gavin didn’t even think of checking all the usual places for a spare set. Then again, who would be stupid enough to leave a set of keys inside a car that was up for sale in the first place? Unless it wasn’t for sale. Gavin peered through the windscreen; all the other cars in the forecourt had for sale signs stuck to the glass. Gavin pushed the keys into the ignition and turned, grinning when the car started up the first time.

“Oh bugger, I’m such a ditz,” muttered the woman. She turned to look at Gavin. “I don’t believe that I’ve done that.” Gloria threw the radio onto his lap and reached for the door handle. “I’ve left my handbag out there on the floor.” She opened the door and climbed out. “I won’t be a moment, Gavin. Don’t you dare go without me.”

The woman ran over to the next car, bent over, and picked her bag off the floor. He wondered what he needed to do for this silly woman to take their situation seriously. Gavin was about to ask her to hurry up when the words died on his lips at the sight of a shadow moving towards her.

Gavin pushed open his door, jumped out of the car, and ran around the front. He pushed her out of the way just as some screeching thing fell from the garage roof. Gavin watched in complete shock as an old woman wearing a thin cotton nightdress landed on the roof of a car. She scurried across it before launching herself at him. He raised his arms to ward off this nightmarish hag, but she easily pushed through his defence and managed to rake her fingernails down his cheek. Gavin cried out, not expecting her to hurt him.

The pain tore away the blanket of disbelief. “You dirty fucking bitch!” he screamed. Without thinking, he swung his arm back and slammed his fist into her face, growling in satisfaction at the feel of her nose breaking. “Get back into the car!” His punch hadn’t even fazed her. “Not possible,” he muttered. “That should have knocked you into next week.”

She just laughed and wiped her hand across her damaged face before springing at Gavin like a pouncing cat. He staggered back under her weight. Gavin fell, slamming his back into the hard concrete floor with the screaming woman still on top of him, spitting blood over his face, and trying to bite off his nose. Gavin brought his arms up and grabbed the woman’s dangling breasts; he gritted his teeth and jerked his arms up, watching the woman fly backwards into the side of a Ford Focus.

Gavin rolled away from the snarling banshee, trying not to throw up at the taste of her blood in his mouth. He saw a wheel brace by the tyre of a Mercedes and reached out to grab it. He rolled onto his back, watching the woman crawl towards him. Gavin swung the wheel brace in an arc, wincing as the metal cracked into the side of the woman’s head.

“Oh fuck,” he gasped, watching thick blood gush from her head. “What have I just done?”

“Will you get in the car!” shouted Gloria.

He backed away, watching the crumpled heap beside him slowly push her body off the tarmac. “This is insane.” She lifted her head. Gavin saw her glazed eyes clear when she saw him in front of her. A low growl echoed at the back of her throat. Gavin shot up and raced over to the car. He threw himself inside and locked the door. He put the car into gear and drove out of the forecourt, watching that crazed woman through the rear-view mirror.

“Gavin, have you any idea who that woman was?”

He glanced at Gloria and saw that she was shaking like a leaf. He then saw that he was too. Gavin gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I’m guessing some escaped lunatic. No, I don’t have a bloody clue.”

She took a deep ragged breath. “It took me a while to place her face, Gavin. You’re the one who dealt with her complaint last Monday when she same into the station, saying that a bunch of kids had smashed all her downstairs windows.”

Gavin slowed down and turned off the high street, heading for the outskirts of the town. He did remember some distraught old lady popping into the station. It just could be the same woman, couldn’t it? “That thing back there was Mrs Bailey?”

The woman beside him slowly nodded. He saw tears running down her cheeks. “It’s all true, isn’t it? Everyone in this crazy town has gone insane.”

Gavin hated himself for thinking this, but he was so glad that at least something had managed to break through that stubborn shell of hers. He then noticed movement and looked into his rear-view mirror. That woman was still behind them.

It still took an incredible amount of imagination to compare that thing behind them to that poor distraught woman who had sat down in front of his desk last week. He remembered the incident very well, how could he not? She had been the first person to enter his station since he had arrived. He had done everything to help her once he had ordered one of the officers to drive the woman home.

He had relished the whole encounter; it was such a change to actually investigate a crime instead of sitting at his desk, watching the others scowl at him all day long. It had taken him a few days, but he had got to the bottom of the incident. It turned out that the kids had also stolen her dog and killed the poor thing. Gavin had found it hanging from a lamppost a couple of days later. He’d kept the discovery to himself and buried the dog’s body in the local woods a few hours later. Gavin figured that the news would have given the poor dear a heart attack.

“Gavin, I’m so sorry for doubting you.” She gave him a single, tight smile. “And I’m sorry for being such a bitch.”

He shrugged. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

Gloria smiled fully. “I can’t remember the last time anyone was ever nice to me.” She looked out the side window. “Just how far is Eastmere?”

“You mean you don’t know?” he asked.

She shook her head. “This is going to sound really strange, but I have never left Brutality in all the years that me and Andy have been together. For a start, he wouldn’t let me. Looking back though, Gavin, I’ve never really felt the urge to leave town either, despite my husband and all his nasty mates treating me like a slave.” She barked out a distraught laugh. “All this craziness must be infectious. I’ll be the one leaping off garage roofs next.”

Gavin stayed silent, he had only been in the town for a few months, but he knew exactly what the woman meant. He hadn’t crossed the town’s boundary either. Even on the seldom days he had off, he had stayed in town. Considering he hated this bloody place, this sort of behaviour seemed more than weird.

“I’m not sure exactly how far the town is from here,” he said, frowning. That was strange, how could he have forgotten? “I think that it’s about ten miles. It shouldn’t take us that long to get there, Gloria. You’ll be safe soon. I don’t have a clue what is going on in Brutality, but I do intend to find out.”

“Oh no,” moaned Gloria. “Do you mean that you intend to come back here? But that’s just crazy, Gavin, they’ll kill you!”

He watched the headlights pick out the white line in the middle of the road and realised that he intended to come back here. Maybe he was crazy, too. It made no sense as to why he would come back here, but he knew he wasn’t going to leave just yet. It seemed that this town would not take her claws out of his side.

“I’m sorry, Gloria, but I don’t have any choice,” he replied. “Don’t worry; it’s not like I’ll be doing this alone. Eastmere’s finest officers will be with me.” He hoped his words would calm her down. “This is my job, I can’t just drop it.”

The headlights picked out another car parked by the edge of the road.

“That’s Andy’s car!”

Gavin slammed the brakes on.

“What the hell are you doing? Speed up.”

“I can’t, they’ve slid stingers across the road.” He looked in the mirror and moaned when he saw two men jump out of the bushes and throw another stinger across the road behind them.

“I’ve let you down, Gloria,” he whispered, watching three men run towards the car. “I’m sorry.”

Gavin opened the door and stepped out. Cooper pulled the gun out of the man’s pocket. Andy nodded at Gavin before picking up his radio. “Okay, boss. We have them.”

Two men removed the stingers as another car approached and stopped behind the car that Gavin had taken. A large man slowly climbed out of the driver’s side. Gavin had seen him around town a few times before, but like Gavin, he didn’t think he was a local.

“Daniel,” Andy said. “You see, I told you that we’d get them back. I know they shouldn’t have escaped in the first place, but no harm’s been done.”

The man glared at Gavin then sighed. “Yes, Andy. I do remember listening to your panicked address over the radio. Now, can you please explain to me why they are still breathing?”

Andy’s triumphant grin slipped from his face. “But she’s my wife!”

Daniel sighed again. He reached into the pocket of his leather overcoat and pulled out an automatic pistol. “I am aware of that, Andy. What use is she though? She is a wife that has given you no offspring. The woman is barren. When we expand into the next town, I’ll let you pick as many women as you can fuck in a single night.” He walked up to Andy and dropped the gun into the man’s hand.

Andy shrugged. “It seems like a fair deal.”

Gloria struggled with the man holding her. “You can’t do this, Andy! I lov…”

Andy’s attention flickered for a moment when another woman’s shrieks drowned out Gloria’s pleas.

The man holding Gavin chuckled. “There you go, Andy. It looks like your new wife has already found you.”

The old woman turned direction at the sound of the man’s voice; she growled and jumped on him. Gavin rolled away as the man released his grip. He watched Andy run over to help. Gloria then swivelled around and head butted her astonished captor in the face.

Gavin dived on the sergeant and wrestled the gun out of his hand. Andy suddenly stopped when Gloria screamed out his name. As he turned, his wife launched her foot into his groin.

“There’s nothing wrong with my insides, you fucking eunuch!”

Gavin shoved the weeping man out of the way and grabbed Gloria.

“They’re getting away!” Daniel screamed.

Gavin’s head jerked up. He saw the stranger’s face start to crack open like sun-baked mud. He could see the others were beginning to stir. Suddenly a shot rang out, and the old woman fell to the ground. He had no other choice. Without waiting to see if he would be next, Gavin pulled Gloria into the bushes at the side of the road and forced his way through them. As they followed, Gavin fired a single shot in their general direction, listening to them run back to their cars.

“I know where we are,” Gloria whispered.

He pushed through the foliage and joined the woman, standing at the top of a steep embankment.

“There’s a tunnel down there,” she said, pointing into the darkness. “Believe me, Gavin, they won’t follow us in.”

Chapter Nine

Angus Hardy held the struggling fly between his thumb and forefinger. He watched it trying to free its legs before pulling off the wings and dropping it into the web. The precaution of nipping off the wings was a sound move; Angus had no wish to see it doing something stupid like flying away.

“Come on, you,” he whispered. “Can’t you sense its terror? Your dinner has arrived.” Did insects even have emotions? No, that was just dumb; of course they didn’t.

The spider took one tentative step onto the threads. Angus nodded in approval. “Come on, big guy. I reckon you’ll enjoy this one. Look at the size of its body!”

He had named the spider Daniel. At the time, he thought the name was rather apt. Both the spider and his new boss had appeared on the scene at about the same time. They were both predators, and both took great pleasure in sucking their victims dry. Angus never actually thought that he’d miss his old boss.

The spider rushed across the web and started to wrap the fly up. Within seconds, the spider’s silk completely covered the fly’s body. “I sure hope you enjoy your feast, Daniel. There are plenty more insects where that came from. I wonder how big I can get you.” Angus gazed around the room, wondering if Daniel could eat a woodlouse. There were loads of those in here. He glanced at the monitor banks. As per usual, everything was quiet.

Ever since the other Daniel had gained control of the company, Abacus Foods had yet to experience another break in. That hadn’t been the only change either. Of course, the other workers, especially the assembly drones, would notice anything amiss. That fact stood to reason. Most of those cow-brained fools had major problems in remembering what year it was.

Angus smiled to himself. He was no fool, unlike those dumb bastards; he had a muscle between his ears that still worked. Not that’d he’d tell anybody what he had witnessed during these last few weeks. Now that would be asking for trouble.

Oliver Campbell disappeared for asking lots of uncomfortable questions. The company’s sales director wasn’t really a bad bloke. He did consider himself to be above everyone else, and then again, so did Angus. Oliver was a bit smarmy, and he didn’t like Angus. Even so, he certainly didn’t deserve having his body minced and ending up in a batch of Abacus Food ready meals.

He’d witnessed the whole gruesome procedure with his own private video feeds. Angus had installed the private security system throughout the whole building a few years ago.

Even after all this time, Angus still had trouble believing his good fortune in stumbling upon this seemingly forgotten town. When whispers of a town hidden in plain sight where the locals conducted every depraved act imaginable reached Angus’s ears, he was ready to dismiss the notion of a ‘bad’ town and consign it into the urban myths bin. Angus had heard about these places before, and none of them had proven to be correct. He was so glad that he’d gone against his better judgement and taken the time to investigate this one.

To any passing stranger, Brutality did, at least on the surface, look like just another grubby town stuck in the middle of the English countryside. Yet to his eye, trained in the art of observation, Angus saw the signs almost immediately, from the poorly hidden bruising on dozens of faces to the furtive glances aimed at the strangers in the town. Angus could easily separate the ones that didn’t belong in Brutality from the local population. They stuck out like a sore thumb. He had felt the suppressed hostility from every local as he’d slowly walked down the main high street. It made his blood sing; he finally felt as though he’d found his home.

The town’s oppressive atmosphere threatened to smother everyone and everything. It felt just incredible. He just knew that every local in this shitty place hid some sort of sordid and disgusting story, and Angus would take great pleasure in teasing out his or her dirty little secrets.

The retired couple who lived next door to Angus were typical Brutality locals. The two women easily fit into the stereotypical idea of how a pair of dotty old ladies should behave. At first, their behaviour towards him emulated the rest of them, but after a year their cold shell showed signs of cracking. Now they went out of their way to give him a cheery wave every morning before he set off for work. They even gave him a full cake last week as thanks for volunteering to cut their front lawn. Of course, he hadn’t eaten any of it; fuck knows what those mad old bitches had put into the mixture. Knowing what he knew about them, he wouldn’t have been surprised to find ground glass or some toxic kitchen chemical.

Just like the rest of the freaks, their smiling faces were just a thin coating, hastily slapped over the faces of two evil old harridans. These two got their kicks out of kidnapping any stranger stupid enough to pass through this dark place. Looking back, it surprised him that he hadn’t ended up in their company when he first came to visit.

The pair had two hikers right now. A boy locked up in the cellar, and a very pretty girl chained up in their room, behind their chairs. From his previous observations, Angus knew that the lad’s lifeline was hanging by a frayed thread. The girl had maybe another month or so until she ended up buried in a landfill site, a lot sooner if they found another replacement.

That moment of discovering just what his neighbours got up to behind the safety of their closed doors would never leave him. He’d been trying to sneak cameras into their house for years, an impossible task considering they never left the house unattended. There was always one of them in there.

His opportune moment came just a few months ago when the more insane old hag was rushed into hospital. He couldn’t stop grinning as the ambulance carried off both women, leaving the house, for the first time, devoid of old bags. It took him just twenty minutes to install his equipment and get out of their house. He could have done the deed in just five but had to slow down to take in the atmosphere and to investigate items not usually found in a house belonging to pensioners. Chains in the cellar were a bit of a giveaway, as well as the bottle of chloroform hidden away under the kitchen sink.

The old bloodstains and the scratches he had found on their bedroom floorboards gave him the best clue. The evil fuckers must have held plenty of people captive in this house.

As he left their house, Angus had hoped that he hadn’t just uncovered old crimes and the women still practised their deviations. His answer came about a month after they returned from hospital.

Angus made it ritual to check his video feeds every morning. The routine took a good hour so; he always got up with the birds. Usually, he spent most of the time skipping through the previous night’s recordings and getting more and more annoyed at finding little in the way of entertaining footage.

Since moving into this neighbourhood five years ago, Angus had managed to sneak cameras into eight houses around his own home. Despite having eight families to watch, most of the feeds failed to satisfy his need for physical and mental depravity. The families sure weren’t angelic, but apart from witnessing the occasional slap and maybe the odd perverted act of sex, he thought his neighbours were rather boring.

Of course, his real problem stemmed from the fact that he’d expected more than his neighbours had shown him. He had expected wall to wall blood, guts, gore, and lumps of flying human flesh on a nightly basis. He should have realised that this town must operate on a gradient, and that not all the freaks in Brutality could be fucking sociopaths. There had to be a few townsfolk who were just mildly psychotic.

Angus giggled at that, as if anyone could be mildly psychotic. He then caught his reflection in the mirror. “Except for you perhaps?”

He discovered to his absolute delight that the old women were the exception. The mental fruitbats made his neighbours look like angels. Their behaviour, although it was just vile, wasn’t the worst he’d seen. Perhaps their inscrutable facade fascinated him. Even in this town of masks, he always thought that he could pick out the bad ones without any trouble. Yet these two dear old ladies had him completely fooled.

Watching the two women undergo their Jekyll and Hyde routine in an instant was a most divine experience. He sighed with happiness, especially when they directed all that hatred and violence at that lovely looking teenage girl. The look on her terrified face when their raging expressions suddenly swapped to benevolence made his loins tingle.

Angus couldn’t wait to get back home. He now had over eight hours of footage to go through. He just knew they would have abused and hurt that girl while he’d been working. He’d have plenty of masturbatory material to keep him busy until he dropped off to sleep.

He wondered how long it would take before the woman finally got bored of her. It only took them a couple of weeks before they got rid of their last captive. Although to be fair, he was just an old man, probably not much younger than the psychotic women. Watching him piss his underpants as they stubbed out their cigarettes on his legs wasn’t really all that exciting for Angus. Hell, wanking over that image, now that was fucking weird.

One of the lights on his panel blinked just once. He turned and glared at the LED, daring that fucker to do that again. Angus sighed as the light flashed again, this time staying lit. “Oh just great,” he muttered, staring at the red light. Someone or something must have tripped one of the perimeter sensors. It was probably another fucking squirrel; those little bastards just would not stay away.

Angus gazed in longing at the plastic Tupperware box containing his packed lunch. This was so annoying; it was almost time for him to tuck into his sandwiches. It had to be just an animal; none of the locals would dare venture anywhere close to the factory. This so wasn’t fair, Angus had no desire to leave his warm and cosy room; it was bloody freezing out there. Even so, the cameras didn’t cover that area so he knew he should just take a peek.

He had made himself banana and crisp sandwiches as well. Angus then sat up straight, staring open mouthed as one of the monitors showed him a couple of figures standing behind the chain-link fence. “You have got to me kidding me,” he muttered. One of them carried a rolled up package under their arm. Angus watched the figure drop it onto the grass. “It’s a piece of bloody carpet!” Oh, this was just too much to take in. They really were going to try to get inside.

The figure then threw the carpet up and it landed across the top of the fence, covering the razor wire. This sort of thing had never happened since the old man took over.

“The locals had been warned off.”

They had to be strangers, animal rights activists or something like that. Oh hell, this was so exciting. Angus had strict instructions on what to do if this situation ever did arise. Angus’s eyes rested on the locked steel cupboard bolted to the wall at the far end of the room.

Both the figures had scaled the fence and had dropped into the carpark. He watched them running across the forecourt. Angus felt a grin spread across his face, and his heartbeat increased as he thought of that cupboard’s contents. He’d been looking forward to something like this to happen for a long time. The cupboard contained a short barrelled shotgun and a box of shells. He just needed the authorisation code so he could get that fucking door open.

Angus unclipped the mobile phone from his belt and nervously punched in Daniel’s private number. It took him three attempts to get the number in correctly; his fat fingers didn’t help, nor did the fact that he couldn’t stop shaking with excitement. “Come on, old man,” he muttered. “Calm it down, and get a grip on yourself.”

“Hello there, my most favourite security guard,” answered the voice. “Are we having a fun night? Is everything still nice and peaceful at the factory?”

Did he hear a hint of amusement in his boss’s voice? His mum raised no fools. Angus knew something here wasn’t quite right; his tone sent a dozen warning bells ringing inside his head. “Daniel, I’m sorry for ringing you up at this time but someone has broken into the factory.”

Angus saw that they had now managed to smash their way into the main reception area. There was nothing sneaky about their intrusion; they just didn’t seem to care. That bothered him more than anything so far. The smaller figure left the other one, wandered over to the main check-in desk, and took off the black balaclava. Angus felt his mouth dry up as he saw her angelic face and the girl’s fine blonde hair fall down past her shoulders. This girl was absolutely fucking gorgeous.

“So, I suppose because of your little dilemma you want me to give you the code of the cupboard?”

Angus found himself nodding vigorously. “Oh, yes please, sir,” he replied. He decided to kill the big one first. That would free up his time to have some serious fun with that pretty girl. He’d show all the local freaks that you didn’t need to be born in this shitty town to possess some extreme psychotic traits. He could always blast the bitch a few hours from now, unless he hadn’t already fucked her to death.

The sound of an electronic lock disengaging reached Angus’s ears, but it wasn’t from the gun cupboard. He spun around and saw his door unlocked.

“Angus, do you really think that I’d allow a depraved person like you access to my shotgun? I don’t want you to hurt any of my children.” The voice chuckled. “This is so exciting, Angus. I so wish I could see your face right now. Unlike you though, I’ve never been a fan of voyeurism.”

“What the fuck?” Angus looked at the monitors and saw that the other figure had now taken off the balaclava. Oh no, he knew that face. It belonged to one of the gorillas who worked on the assembly line. Angus felt his bowels loosen when the huge lad tapped one of the security cameras with a thin bladed knife.

He listened to his boss laughing before he threw the phone against the wall. “Fuck you!” he shouted, running over to the door. He opened it, peeked out, and saw the girl slowly walking towards his room. Angus yelped, slammed the door shut, and raced over to the other side of the room. As he ran past the monitors, he saw Phil was running towards his room. He dived under the desk, finding that he couldn’t stop shaking. It wasn’t from excitement this time; it was from fear. That Phil was a right evil bastard. He really was a bad one.

Angus softly moaned as his door slowly opened. Oh fuck, this couldn’t really be happening. What the fuck was his boss playing at? He glanced over at the smashed phone; it’s not as if he could fucking ask him now. It was bloody obvious, though, that Daniel didn’t need Angus to tell him that these two were inside his factory.

“Hey there, fat man!” shouted Phil. “Come out of there, you slimy fuckstick. You have something that we want from you.”

“Oh God, come on, Phil, do we have to do this one?” asked the girl. “Why can’t we find a skinnier one?”

Angus watched the boy shake his head. “Poppet, we have already been through this. It’s got to be him, and you know that. We both heard what Daniel said. Now come on, Lisa, let’s get to work.

The girl let out a long breath and muttered something under her breath. She kissed Phil then walked over to his hiding place. Angus slid further back until his body was pressed up hard against the wood. He so wished the wall would just open up and swallow him. The girl crouched down in front of Angus.

“I so need you, Angus,” she whispered. “I desire you.” Lisa held her forefinger up and ran her tongue along the digit. She then ran the finger up her thigh, “Ah yes,” moaned Lisa. “That feels so good. Angus, there’s something of yours that I want to lick and suck.” She smiled and held out both her hands. “Come on, big fellow, don’t you want to make me happy? Come on, sweetheart, climb out of there, and let’s play.”

Angus was so confused. He watched her push that finger between her lips. Had he read their actions all wrong? She reached under the desk and rested her hand on his crotch.

“Oh my, that feels big.”

Angus gasped, and her hand gently squeezed his thick shaft. She grabbed both his wrists and helped him out then guided him over to his worktable. From the corner of his eye, he saw Phil had helped himself to his sandwiches. Lisa placed both her hands on his cheeks and kissed him, forcing her tongue into his mouth.

She pulled away and giggled. “Oh my, you’ve done that before, haven’t you? Right, I need you to climb on your table and lie down, Angus. You’re so going to love this,” she said, giggling again.

“Wait, what about him, is he just going to watch us?”

Lisa shrugged. “Does that bother you?”

Angus shook his head and winked at Phil, noticing that he’d emptied his lunch box. “Hell no, it doesn’t bother me at all.” Angus complied with the girl’s request and lay down on the hard surface, feeling a pencil dig into his back.

Phil walked over to the desk and looked down at Angus. He winked back. “I’m guessing you like it kinky.”

The girl started to unbuckle his trousers. “Well, would you look at that bulge, Phil? The old man really is packing a monster in here. It’s almost as big as yours.” She unzipped his fly and sighed. “That is very impressive,” she whispered licking her lips.

“Oh Jesus,” cried Angus.

“Okay, you’d better do your stuff, Phil, before I get too carried away.”

Phil dangled a length of wire above the man’s head. “Lisa, why don’t you show the man what you have under your robe.”

The girl nodded. As the robe fell to the floor, Angus gasped. She had sewn dozens of tiny bones into her skin.

“Do you not think that I look very pretty?” she asked, running her fingers down the front of her body. “You have no idea how good it was to hear those other people cry out just before we took out a piece of them.” She licked her lips. “I cried out, too, when Phil pushed these bones through my skin.” Lisa groaned out. “Oh, but it wasn’t pain that made me cry out.”

Phil pressed the wire across the man’s neck.

Lisa showed him the thin bladed knife. “I’m going to use this to remove one of your ribs, fat man.” She pushed the blade into his gut. “You can scream, if you like.”

Chapter Ten

Dave skidded to an abrupt halt. He thrust out both his arms and grabbed the side of the tunnel wall to stop his exhausted body from smashing into the ground. This was no good; he could not go on any further. Dave needed to stop to catch his breath; his heart felt like it was trying to escape through his ribcage.

He bent over, dropped the bundle of clothes that the tramp had given him, and pushed his hand hard against his guts. This stitch was killing him; he took in a deep ragged breath while watching the sweat on his brow drip and land on his filthy shoes.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I think we have lost them.”

Dave took his eyes off the now clean furrow on the top of his shoe to look up at Amber’s concerned features. He slowly nodded, unable to find enough breath to speak. The girl wasn’t even panting. Somehow that didn’t seem to be very fair. He felt like had had just run a bloody marathon.

Was this what true exercise felt like? Dave had never really considered himself to be that out of shape. True, he occasionally thought that his stomach muscles could have done with a bit of work, and he knew that he drank too much and ate way too much junk food, but he never felt unfit, at least until now. Oh Christ, he felt like he wanted to keel over and quietly die.

Amber walked back and crouched down in front of him. He stopped panting just enough to breathe in her scent, and unlike him, she didn’t smell like a rotting carcass tainted with an old man’s body odour. She gave his shoulders a gentle squeeze.

“You need to take a deep breath, Dave, come on, and breathe in and out slowly. You need to calm down.”

He looked into her eyes. “How come you aren’t fucked?” he gasped.

“I used to run for a team back at my old college.” She looked over her shoulder. “I hate to say this, Dave, but I don’t think we’ll be seeing our saviour again.”

Dave had reached that conclusion some time ago. If he were having trouble running from his pursuers, some old tramp would not stand a chance. He wiped his forehead and looked at the palm of his hand, wondering if he had any moisture left in his body. Well, at least his stitch had begun to recede. “Amber? I think we’re going to be okay.” Maybe he wasn’t as knackered as he first believed. A few seconds ago he wouldn’t have been able to talk to save his life.

She gave him a warm smile. “I think we have done incredible so far, Dave, considering.” She dropped her bundle of clothes. “This isn’t quite how I expected my night would end when I first saw you on the dance floor.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” Dave ran his fingers along the rough stone wall, “This place is a lot tidier than my bedroom, sweetheart,” he replied, smiling. “It would look miles better with a bit of paint on the walls and maybe a few posters.

“And a bed?” suggested Amber. She kicked off her shoes and then grabbed the bottom of her blouse and started to pull the material over her head.

He gazed at the girl in the dim light, not believing what she was doing. “For crying out loud, Amber, I thought you were joking!”

She giggled. “Oh, Dave. Look at the state of me; hell, look at the state of both of us. I need to get out of these stinking clothes.” Amber winked. “I hope that you’re not going to go all prudish on me, are you?” She threw the blouse on the floor and pulled her trousers down. “It’s such a shame, these clothes cost me a bloody fortune. Now, about your prudish behaviour? Come on, isn’t this the whole reason why you pulled me in the first place?” The girl bent over and pulled off her socks. “I suggest that you do the same, Dave. You really do fucking stink.”

Dave wanted to turn around and look at the wall as this beautiful girl undressed. Despite all the fear inducing madness that this night had thrown at them, he still knew hardly anything about her. He sighed to himself, wondering if he really had gone all prudish.

The grim fact that the pair of them might not make it through the remainder of this night alive had destroyed any erotic thought he had for her hours ago. Dave’s mind-set soon changed as Amber unclasped her bra.

He gazed at the girl’s perfect breasts and imagined his tongue sliding over those large, brown nipples. Dave discovered that his libido wasn’t yet quite dead in the water. Oh God, Amber was just stunning, and he really did want her.

Dave struggled out of his shirt and fumbled with the buttons of his trousers, his shaking hands unable to get them undone.

She stepped over to him and placed her hands over his. “Here, let me,” murmured Amber. The girl pushed away his hands then deftly unfastened the buttons and slowly pulled his trousers down to his ankles. “That’s better. Look how clean you are under these ruined clothes.” Amber stood up, wrapped her arms around his waist, and pulled him tight against her chest.

Dave caught his breath as Amber pressed her lips against his and kissed him, pushing her tongue into his mouth, and running it along his teeth. Her slender fingers travelled down his spine before moving around to his front. Her probing tongue muffled his groan when Amber slipped one hand inside his boxers and wrapped her fingers around his penis.

She squeezed and released his hardening organ before pulling his shorts down. “You have no idea how much I need to feel your length deep inside me,” she whispered, pulling her face way. The girl’s eyes travelled down his chest. “Oh my,” she gasped, running her tongue over her lips. “You are big.”

Dave placed his trembling hands over her breasts and ran his thumbs over her hardened nipples. “Oh Jesus, you are so beautiful.”

“Take me, Dave. Oh God, take me now!”

He growled and brought both his hands down to her hips and pull her body hard against his, groaning in delight as the tip of his penis brushed up against her soft thatch. Dave then paused in confusion when Amber’s whole body froze solid.

Amber struggled out of his grip, bent down, and picked the trousers from the pile of clothes. “I’m sorry!” she cried, thrusting them into his hands. “I… oh God, I’m sorry. I can’t do it, I just can’t.”

He let the clothing fall and laid his hands upon her naked shoulders. “Hey, stop that, sweetheart. What are you saying sorry for?” Dave ran his fingers through Amber’s thick hair. “Come on now, sweetheart, look at me, let me see those beautiful blue eyes.” He wiped away her tears and gently kissed her soft lips. “I have fallen in love with you, Amber. You do know that.”

She sniffed and nodded. “I know.”

“We have the rest of our lives to play with each other,” he said, grinning. “You’re right though, we do fucking stink. Besides that, what if our scruffy friend is still alive? Can you imagine how embarrassing it would be if he came back and found us both bonking each other’s brains out?”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Amber bent down and snatched up her new top. She struggled into it before passing Dave the trousers that he had dropped. “We are going to get out of here, aren’t we, Dave?”

“After all the shit that we’ve been through so far? Come on, sweetheart, what else can they throw at us? Look, we’re still kicking, Amber. Trust me, it’ll be all downhill from here,” he replied, trying to sound more confident than he was. He turned around to pull up his trousers, not daring to gaze in lust at those fantastic legs any more. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with his hormones? The girl was obviously in a shit load more stress than she had been letting on. Amber needed his strength and support and yet all he could think about was fucking her brains out.

When he finally turned back, Dave saw with some relief that Amber was looking more or less respectable. His passion cooled down now that most of her naked flesh lay beneath a layer of multicoloured cast-off clothing. “What a transformation! You really do look fabulous,” he said, grinning.

“Don’t take the piss, I look like a colour blind clown.” She placed her nose against her shoulder and took a deep sniff. “I now smell like a mouldy sofa.”

He threw on the rest of his clothes, sighing when he saw that he had to put on his shit-smelling shoes. Dave brought his arm up against his nose. “Amber, we both do. Still, it’s better than smelling like a tin of rotten cat food.”

Amber threw her arms around Dave’s neck. “Not that I’m complaining. I think…” She suddenly released him. “We have company!” she hissed, looking over his shoulder.

He spun around and started when he saw the tramp running towards them. He had honestly believed that they had seen the last of the man.

“Don’t just stand there staring at me!” he yelled. “Run!”

As the Tramp neared, Dave discovered that the man wasn’t alone. The dull light revealed three silent figures right behind the man, and they were slowly catching up to him. Amber grabbed Dave’s shoulders and pulled him forward.

“Come on, you heard what he just said!”

Amber raced off along the passageway. He glanced behind him one more time to see that the tramp had managed to put a bit of space between him and his pursuers. He turned back around and sprinted after the girl, feeling his aching body already complaining at the extra work.

“What part of ‘move your arse’ did you not understand?” shouted Max as he drew level with Dave. “Do you want them to catch you?” The tramp got behind him and slammed his hands into his back. “Move it!”

He stumbled forward, trying not to trip over his own feet, wanting to turn around and smack the man right in his face. He gritted his teeth, asked his overworked heart to forgive him, and put on an extra burst of speed, desperate to catch up with Amber. The passageway began to slope downwards; the incline did help a little. He honestly believed that if it had sloped the other way then he’d have just stopped right there, dropped to the floor, and let those maniacs do whatever to him.

Dave noticed the top of Amber’s head disappear around a bend, and somehow he found a hidden resource of energy to put on one more burst of speed. As he turned the corner, Dave saw that the woman wasn’t that far from him now. He watched her slow down and then stop. She spun around; her face displayed a look of complete terror.

“They’re in front of us as well!” she screamed.

Dave caught up with her and saw two more people heading towards them from the other direction. They were just kids; the oldest one couldn’t have been more then seventeen. Their grins widened when they saw Dave glaring at them. He couldn’t take this any longer, why could the bastards not leave them alone? Dave clenched both his fists. The idea of giving up dissolved. There was no way that he would allow a pair of snot-nosed brats to beat him.

“Come on then, if you think you’re hard enough,” he snarled. Dave took a little satisfaction in seeing both of them hesitate. He ran forward and raised his fists, just daring either of the bastards to take him on. Even so, it did take him by surprise to see both of them spin around and flee.

“Just see it as a minor victory,” muttered Max. “They’ll be back with reinforcements.” I hadn’t expected them to know about the other entrance; they must be desperate to catch us.” He gazed into Dave’s face. “I’m sorry, but that way is blocked now, my friend.”

“You mean we’re trapped?” Dave could hear the running feet of the others approaching. His bravado had all but disappeared, and he didn’t think he could tackle the ones that were chasing the tramp. “What are we going to do?” He felt Amber grab his hand.

“I didn’t say we were trapped.” He set off following the two fleeing kids. “There’s another way out.”

The other pursuers were now visible. Dave felt his bowels loosen at the sight of the silent crowd, there were so many of them, and each one carried a weapon. Dave set off after Max with Amber right behind him. He saw that the tramp was on his knees a few yards down the tunnel. The man looked up and pointed to the wall.

“Come on!” he hissed.

Dave couldn’t see anything—what the fuck what he playing at? Amber pushed passed him and dropped to her knees. He then saw it. Dave couldn’t believe what his eyes were showing him; there was a circular hole cut into the rock face. For some stupid reason, he imagined a giant mouse popping its head through. “Will you get a fucking grip?” he muttered. He fell to the floor and followed the girl through the hole.

The first thing that hit Dave as he exited the narrow tunnel was the light. He looked up and gasped at the sight of thousands of tiny lights embedded into the cavern roof. “What the hell is this?” he asked. The air was cold and damp. He shivered. There was a faint taint in the air as well; it reminded him of rotten eggs. Dave then noticed a column of worn stone steps directly in front of them leading down into the blackness. The stench was coming from wherever those stairs went.

Amber grabbed his arms and pulled him into her embrace. “This is all too fucking weird, Dave. Where is this place?”

He shrugged. “I think the only person who could answer that one is right behind us.” He looked at the foreboding steps, and his overactive imagination calmly informed him that those steps led directly to hell. He frantically looked around the new location, trying and failing to find another way out. “Oh God, I so hope those fuckers were as blind as me. I don’t want to go down those steps.”

“You can stop fretting, Dave. They won’t follow us in here,” replied Max. He pulled the rest of his body through the hole.” Oh, you’ll need this,” he said, passing him a small torch. “The illumination doesn’t reach farther than a few feet. Once we leave this cavern, we won’t be able to see anything.”

Dave flicked on the torch and shone the beam down the steps. He could see the bottom. He looked back towards the tramp. “Why? No, seriously, why won’t they follow us in here?”

The tramp looked up towards the roof. “They are so beautiful. It’s been decades since I last looked at those lights.” He looked at Amber. “They have never stopped giving out their bright blue light for thousands of years; not one of them has stopped working, you know.” He shone his torch beam around the cavern.

The light picked out stone columns, the remains of what looked like huge ornate doorways. Dave saw hundreds of hieroglyphics carved into the rock. They were everywhere.

“You’re looking at the remnants of a civilisation that flourished before the last ice-age. It was they who created the first township on this site, you know.” Max pointed the beam of light towards the hole. “The ones born in the damned town are terrified of what lies below their feet.”

Dave shone the torchlight into the man’s grinning face. “Is that supposed to fill me with comfort, Max? What the fuck is down there?”

The man pushed the torch out of his face and turned to Amber. “You need to trust me on this one, you both do. There is a very good chance that we’ll all get out of here unscathed.” He headed over to the steps and began to descend. “That will only happen if you do exactly as I say and you stay silent. Noise travels in the catacombs.” He looked at them. “Both the tribes hunt mainly by sound.”

Chapter Eleven

Did that foul-mouthed old bastard really mean what he said to her? Jackie sighed, already knowing the answer to that one. That loon was as mad as the rest of the freaks in this town. She peered around the edge of the rotten gatepost, relieved to see that he was almost out of sight. She watched him lean over a low brick wall on the other side of the road before shrugging and making his way back to where she had first bumped into him.

“Oh Jesus, what is wrong with the people in this fucked up town?” she muttered.

What was she going to do now? Jackie desperately needed to find out where they had taken her brother. She hoped to God that he was okay. She looked down at the piles of rubbish and weeds by her feet. Jackie crouched down and tentatively brushed her hand through the discarded human refuge. She picked out a rusty nail file. Shook her head and tossed it over her shoulder.

“Come on, lass. What did you think you’d find in here, a fucking machine gun?” Jackie sighed and carefully rose to her feet, keeping a close eye on the road. She had no intention of letting anyone else see her.

By her estimation, she had been away from that pair of crumbly nutcases for about ten minutes now. Jackie had spent those precious minutes trying to find anyone who was willing to help her. There must be someone who’d know where they had taken her James. The area where those mad women lived was deserted. She’d only just spotted the old guy hunting through a litter bin by the side of the park. If he hadn’t been standing beneath a streetlamp, Jackie would have walked straight past him.

His reaction when he saw her reminded Jackie of how the old bags acted. As she backed away from the foul smelling piece of trash, she just knew that she had made a terrible mistake.

There was no way that she would let him get too close to her. Jackie had spun around and raced along the darkened street, listening to the tramp give chase. He had no chance of catching her, though. Despite those freaks chaining her up, Jackie still had youth and fear on her side. The old man couldn’t keep up.

As she watched him continue to search along that wall, she wondered if there was anybody in this town who might be able to help her out. She shivered at the thought of what would have happened if she had found somebody else, somebody a lot younger and fitter. Jackie would have stood no chance of getting away.

“This isn’t fair,” she whispered, trying not to cry. She wiped her face, angry at allowing her emotions to get the better of her. She waited until the creep was out of sight before stepping out into the middle of the road. There was nobody else hanging around, but even so, Jackie still felt very exposed. She shook the feeling away; she had the road to herself.

“Time to get him back,” she muttered, running towards the centre of the town. After what she had been through with those two bitches, she just dared anybody to get in her way. Jackie slammed her hand over her mouth, wishing, just wishing that she had the guts to mean those words. She glanced behind her. If she couldn’t even stop one smelly tramp, what chance did she have with anybody else? “I’ll get myself a weapon, that’s what I’ll do.” He just surprised her, that’s all. The shock of discovering that it wasn’t just the two old bags that were off their trolley had thrown her. Jackie wouldn’t make that mistake again.

This was the road that she and James had travelled on all that time ago. She recognised the landscape. The darkness might have changed the feel of the place, but she wasn’t mistaken. Jackie had perfect memory recall when it came to finding her way around unfamiliar towns.

Jackie then spotted part of the landscape moving. She silently gasped and ran to the side of the road when the top of the old man's head came into view a few metres from her location. Was that bastard still looking for her? Jackie thought that he’d given up and gone to find a bin to look through or something. She crouched down and watched him. That bastard must be at least seventy years old, probably even older. “And you’re hiding from him,” she whispered. The old bastard must know everybody in this fucked up town. It also made sense that if he spent his life on the street then he was bound to know the comings and goings of the local population.

“I bet he knows where they took my brother,” she whispered. “Of course he’ll bloody know.” Jackie hurried along the side of the wall, keeping her head down, and staying a few metres distance from the man. The last thing she needed right now was for the man to spot her. Jackie stopped and leaned against the wall, wondering if she had the nerve to confront him. She could hit him with a rock or something; there were plenty around here, lying about.

She yelped aloud when a pair of car headlights picked her out. She threw her body hard against the ground, wincing as a dozen sharp stones dug into her stomach. Her fears calmed a little when the car didn’t slow down and continued on its journey. When she looked back, Jackie gasped again when she saw him glaring down at her.

“Well, ain’t this a lucky find!” he said, laughing. “You sure are one pretty little girly.” The man stooped down and grabbed Jackie’s hair. “It looks like I’ll be getting myself some booze tonight after all. I reckon that I’ll get a decent price for you, pretty girly. Maybe even a couple of bottles.”

She squirmed and wriggled, desperately trying to get this old bastard to let go. All she succeeded in doing was for him to grip her even tighter.

“Do you want me to rip out all your hair, is that what you want?”

“Get off me, you fucker!”

“Now you listen to me, pretty girly. You’re making this dead hard for me.”

“I hope your fucking cock drops off,” she snarled. The man brought her head to face his and laughed at her. The man’s breath stank of stale tobacco and cheap whisky. Jackie tried not to let him see how much pain the bastard was causing.

“Ain’t you got fire in your belly, pretty girly? I thought that Betsy would have beaten that out of you. She usually does.” He pushed her head down towards the front of his trousers. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. Because you won’t stop acting like a dirty wriggly octopus, I’ll play with you for a bit before I hand you over to the others.” The man moaned. “Oh yes, that does sound like a fucking great idea. I haven’t had a pretty girly that’s been breathing for years.”

Jackie stifled a sob.

“I didn’t think you’d like those apples, pretty girly. Sticking my thick cock into a warm arse will make a pleasant change, I think.”

Jackie ceased her struggles and burst into tears.

He nodded. “Now, ain’t that better? As you’ve stopped it with the moving, I’ll try to be gentle, pretty girly. I can be, you know.”

She nodded. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll be good; I’ll let you do anything you want to me.” As soon as she felt the grip on her hair loosen, Jackie flew out both her fists, hitting the startled man in the stomach. As he folded, she wrenched her head back. He still had one of his hands entwined in her hair. Jackie squealed in agony as she felt his tight grip ripping out the hair by its roots. She gritted her teeth then launched her left foot into his face, grunting in satisfaction when she heard the bones in his nose crunch.

“You’re a dirty, vile, diseased old cunt!” she snarled. “You are going to…” Jackie was just about to boot him in the guts when she lifted her head at the unmistakable sound of another approaching vehicle.

Jackie leaped over the wall and ducked down, trying not to cringe when she discovered that she had jumped into a large patch of nettles. The car sped past their location without stopping to see if the tramp was okay. For the first time since arriving, Jackie thanked the locals for not giving a shit about anybody. Unless they just thought he was sleeping.

She popped her head over the wall to see him on his hands and knees, slowly crawling along the leaf-covered floor. Jackie jumped over and used her foot to push him onto his back.

“Don’t hurt me again, pretty girly,” he whined, spitting blood out of his mouth. “I was joking; honest I was.”

“Yeah, sure you were.” She raised her foot and placed it directly over his face. “I’m not joking though. If you don’t tell me where they have taken my brother, I’ll stamp on your ugly head.”

The tramp spat our more blood and turned his head. He raised one arm and pointed towards the town centre. “Over there, they went that way. That’s where they took him, I swear on my life. Can I go now please?”

“I’d already figured that bit out, you fucking moron,” she snapped. “Whereabouts in town have they taken him?”

“They’ve taken him and the others to the nightclub, pretty girly,” he whispered. “It’s not far from here. I can take you, if you like.” The man looked up into her face. “I really am sorry, please don’t be mad at me?” he coughed again. “I see that I’m not convincing you; well, could you at least get me an ambulance? I think I’m close to dying.”

Jackie shook her head. “Are you having a laugh? I want you to die,” she snarled. “In fact, I want every one of you dirty fuckers in this bastard town to fucking die!” She launched a kick at the tramp’s exposed stomach before sprinting down the road.

As she neared the commercial area of the town, Jackie began to notice the faint stench of burning meat in the air. It smelled as if somebody had set a dozen barbeques on fire. The stench was vile. Jackie stopped and placed the sleeve of her coat tight against her nose and mouth.

She stopped dead at the sight of three young men hurrying out of a pub on the other side of the road. Her terror changed to confusion when they didn’t bother to give chase. They must have seen her, so what were they doing? They turned around and started to hurry towards the centre of the town. Jackie hurried after them, keeping her distance. If these fuckers did suddenly change their mind and go after her instead, Jackie wanted enough of a head start so that, unlike the tramp, if they did catch her she would stand a chance,

More people emerged from other streets and buildings, all heading in the same direction, and that smell was getting worse. Jackie held her nose and breathed through her mouth, but it was no good, she could now taste the stink. She noticed that none of the other townsfolk appeared to be affected by it. In fact, they didn’t seem to be affected by anything; they all appeared to be in some sort of trance.

Jackie then saw where everyone was going. A faint orange glow flickered through the row of large trees that lined the main high street. She slowed down and pushed her way through the tight knot of people crowded around her. They were burning something, and had built up a huge bonfire in the middle of that nightclub carpark.

Her stomach did slow summersaults when she saw a writhing figure at the top of the fire. “Oh no. No please. Not that.”

The people around had stopped as well; they were all turning to stare at Jackie. She looked into their eyes, and it felt as though she was staring into the eyes of dolls. Jackie backed away, not stopping until a streetlamp blocked her progress. She moved around it, keeping her eyes on the other people, and when she reached the alcove of a butcher’s shop, Jackie saw them turn one by one and continue walking towards the fire.

Oh, shit, they only reacted when she started to speak. Jackie placed her hand over her mouth, watching the rest of the people pass by her. She squeezed away her tears, determined not to break down and collapse right here and now. It might not be what she thought it was; they couldn’t be burning people down there, nobody could be that evil, could they?

Jackie watched the last of the people disappear from view and moved out of the alcove. Despite the danger, Jackie needed to find out. She passed an Indian restaurant and looked in through the window. The place was deserted, yet the tables were still full of uneaten the food. Jackie noticed that the door was wide open. She ventured inside and walked over to the first table. Jackie picked up a large knife from the surface. It wasn’t exactly a machine gun, but it was better than nothing at all.

She looked around the empty restaurant, trying to see if there was anything else she could use. Jackie’s eyes lit up when she spotted a telephone hanging from the wall just behind the bar. “Oh, thank you, sweet Jesus, that’s just what I wanted.” She rushed over and picked up the receiver. There was no dial tone. “You show me just one glimmer of hope before shitting it back into my face!” she cried.

“Fuck you all,” she snarled. They weren’t going to beat her, no way, not after what they had subjected her to. Jackie tucked the knife into the back of her trousers, picked a chicken breast off a plate, and stuffed it into her mouth, trying not to choke on the meat. She looked at the rest of the food just going to waste and sighed before running out of the restaurant.

It didn’t take her long to reach the outer limits of the crowd. It looked as though everybody who lived in this town was here. Jackie ducked down when she spotted the blank faces of Ada and Betsy not too far from her. She instinctively reached behind her back, knowing full well how easy it would be to push her blade into the old bitch’s hateful heart. Jackie took in a lungful of cold smoky air, trying to clear away the rage. She needed to find her brother before this group of zombiefied bastards realised there was a stranger in their midst.

Jackie leaned against a Ford Escort van and counted to three before pushing her way through the crowd, heading towards the next parked car. Nobody stopped or questioned her. She followed their line of sight and saw they were all staring at the flames.

Above the noise of the flames crackling, Jackie realised that she could hear the sound of a man’s voice. She stood on her tip toes and could just make out a cloaked figure standing beside the fire with his arms stretched out. Her heart then sang with relief when she saw her brother was down there, still alive. They had bound his arms and legs and placed him against the nightclub building along with several other people.

Jackie’s voice almost betrayed her when the crowd surged forward, pinning her against the van. Suddenly, the people around her moved back. She looked to her left and saw some of them part to allow several men through.

She dropped to the floor when Jackie saw the men were not acting drugged like the rest of the townsfolk. This did not bode well. They had their wits about them. Her heart leapt into her throat when she caught sight of that tramp tailing them.

Jackie rolled under the car when the men approached and watched their feet pass just inches from her face. There were nine of them, and Jackie now wished that she had found a machine gun in that restaurant; what bloody use was her silly knife against nine thugs? She jumped at the sound of one of the men passing her cry out in pain. Jackie scrambled as close to the edge as she dare. Three of them had a dark haired teenage boy in a bear grip. He was begging them to release him. One of the other men lashed out with the back of his hand.

The sudden punishment did not silence him; instead, it just made him worse. Jackie silently groaned when she watched a large youth at the front stop walking. He turned around and rushed over to the youth and then smiled at him before drawing out a long sword from behind him back. If made her knife look like a toothpick.

“Please, Phil!” cried the teenager. “Look, I’ll be quiet; I promise I’ll be good. Just don’t hurt me!”

Jackie thought that he was just going to threaten the teenager with his sword. Instead, he thrust the blade deep into his stomach. The men holding the teenager let him go, and the dying man fell to the ground, rolling about on the road, trying to stop his intestines from spilling out over the tarmac.

The men stopped and grouped around the teenager. His face was just inches from hers now. She saw that he didn’t have long before he left this mortal coil. Jackie wished that she could just hold him and give him some reassurance that not everybody in this town wished him harm. The boy opened his eyes and bellowed out a single ear-piercing shriek before his body stopped moving for good.

The men chuckled before jogging into the carpark. Through tear-blurred eyes Jackie watched them grab her brother and drag him over to the fire. She shut her eyes and slammed her hands over her eyes, trying to block out her brother’s screams.

Chapter Twelve

Gavin waved the torch beam along the roof of this abandoned mine shaft, looking in distrust at the decaying wooden beams, and trying not to think of how much weight must be above them.

“Why have you stopped?”

He shone the torch along the lichen-encrusted walls before he stopped at Gloria’s feet. Gavin tried to give the woman a reassuring smile then gave up when he realised that she couldn’t see his attempt in the dim light.

“I’m just checking to see if I can see any more chambers,” he replied, lying. Gavin had stopped because he thought he heard something that sounded suspiciously like footsteps. He wasn’t going to tell her that, though; the last thing he needed right now was for the woman to get hysterical. Gavin shone the torch behind Gloria, trying to work out how far they had travelled, but it was impossible. He couldn’t even see the entrance to the mine shaft anymore. He flicked off the light.

“Be quiet,” he hissed when the woman gasped. Aside from her harsh breathing, Gavin could detect no other sounds apart from the steady drip of water coming from somewhere in front of them. He doubted that any of those men would have followed them in here.

At least he hoped they wouldn’t. What he wouldn’t give for a decent firearm or even a blunt instrument. He wasn’t scared to tackle Andy or any of the others, but he wasn’t an idiot, those guys would make mincemeat out of him if he didn’t have anything to defend himself with. He turned the torch back on; he was confident that they hadn’t been followed.

Gavin was getting very nervous now. The men from town weren’t in here with them, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that somebody was here, hiding and watching. His copper’s instinct kept telling him that they needed to get out of here right now. His instinct had been wrong on the rare occasion in the past, but he had never felt it this strong before. Gavin shivered, he couldn’t help it.

“I felt that,” said Gloria. “It’s not that cold, you know.”

“You had better tell me why you were confident that your husband and the others wouldn’t come in here after us.” He wanted to kick himself. Why the fuck did he not ask this one before they were so deep inside the mine?

“You’re going to find this very silly, Gavin.”

Somehow, he thought his reaction would be opposite to her next words.

“Well, it’s not just Andy and the others in the station, the whole town is terrified of coming down here. I’ve lived in Brutality a long time, and as you have found out, they don’t tell us anything, even me, despite marrying Andy. Even so, you do pick up bits of information and catch snippets of rumour. They all seem to think that something else lives under the town.” She chuckled. “Some sort of bogyman, I think.” Gloria grabbed his hand. “You see, I said it was silly.”

Gavin played the light across the lichen-encrusted walls; he didn’t think it was silly at all, and it scared him shitless. His training and common sense told him that the locals were all just playing a prank on this rather dull woman, the same woman who probably fell foe to the striped paint prank. His deeper feelings, his cop instinct, informed him otherwise.

“Look, why don’t we just go back, Gloria? It has been ages since we entered this mineshaft. Those men would have left long ago.”

“No, we can’t go back” she gasped. “They’ll still be waiting for us, I just know it. Gavin, you have to trust me here. This is the only way out. They have cut off the town. I’ve been down here before. I used to come here when I was a kid.” Gloria caught her breath. “Brutality was not a nice place to grow up in if you weren’t born here, Gavin. This was my playground.”

The woman put her arms around Gavin’s waist. “This tunnel leads to just a couple of miles short of Eastmere, and you need to trust me on this.”

He nodded. “Okay, we carry on.” Gavin gently pushed her arms off him and wrapped his fingers around hers. He looked at this middle-aged woman, trying not to think about how lonely her childhood must have been. He wouldn’t wish growing up in this fucked up town on anyone. “Have you been down here recently, Gloria?”

She shook her head. “Good Lord, no. I’m not even allowed out of the house without Andy’s permission.” Gloria shivered. “I must have been mad. Andy, why on earth did I stay here? Why did I go marry some guy who was going to treat me like crap for the rest of my life?”

Gavin didn’t answer. From what he had seen, observing this woman, he figure that it wouldn’t have mattered where she lived; Gloria would have ended up with a man who wouldn’t treat her like a lady. He guessed that it was a little ironic to have grown up in a town where nearly all the men were complete bastards.

She dragged her finger down the side of one of the wooden supports. “You know, I used to wish that I had the guts to run away. Back then, I wasn’t so much of a doormat. I still had a bit of defiance left in me.” Gloria wiped her finger down her dress. “We had better get a move on, Gavin.”

“We’re not going to get lost down here, are we?”

“No, we won’t. There are no intersections or dead ends. It is one long tunnel that leads away from this evil place.” The woman laughed. “Can’t you feel the change in yourself, Gavin? I know that you haven’t been in the town that long, but just being here is enough to start to alter you. The further we get from the centre, the easier it is to think. Its influence is diminishing. Believe me; we are going the right way.”

He closed his eyes and tried to take in her words. She was making sense. Since being in Brutality, Gavin hadn’t given his old life back in Eastmere that much thought. His parents lived there and so did all his mates, so why had he not once considered getting in touch and asking how they were? Hell, he and a few of the guys from the station used to go out drinking to the local pubs at least once a week.

“Yeah, I think I can see what you mean,” he whispered. Ten miles was not that long. Going by his calculations, they had been down here for about an hour, that meant they could already be halfway there.

The old memories flooded into his brain. How was it possible for this town to suppress his desire to leave? God, the sooner he was out of here, the better. Gavin shivered; he couldn’t shift that thought that someone was watching them, no matter how hard he tried. Putting it down to simple paranoia wasn’t helping either.

He felt Gloria wrap her hand in his. He smiled, reassured at her warmth. How on earth did Gloria have the guts to come down here alone when she was just a kid? This place was creepy; the girl had more balls than he gave her credit for.

Gavin trudged ahead, following the rusted metal rail between his feet. The desire to pick up the pace ate into him like acid, yet he dare not. The thought of one of them tripping up and breaking a couple of bones pushed all thoughts of running out of his head. An injury like that could finish the pair of them.

“Oh fuck, what the bloody hell is that?” shouted Gloria.

He caught his breath and stopped, getting ready to run; he thought that the woman had just stopped his imaginary watcher.

“Over there, Gavin, can you see it? Shine the light on that wall. I’m sure that I saw something shiny.”

Gavin raised the torch and played the beam along the wall. The light picked out a couple of wooden supports and rough rock; nothing looked any different. He was about to ask her exactly what she thought she had seen when his light reflected right back at him. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered, gazing at the silver metal door embedded into the stone face.

“I’m telling you, that door was not there the last time I was down here, Gavin.”

He kept his mouth shut, not wishing to mention that it must have been over forty years since she last set foot in this mine, and it would have been just as dark as it was now. Gavin stepped over the rail and walked over to the door. His brief thought of using it to get out of here vanished when the first thing he noticed was the lack of a handle. Could this be a fire exit? As stupid as it sounded, it sure did look like one.

“Wait, I think this could tell us something,” he said, reaching up and wiping his hand along the surface. Beneath the wet fungal growth Gavin found a small rectangular metal plate bolted to the door. He shone the torch over it, seeing words embossed into the plate. “In the event of a lock-down, call the duty manager.”

“Shit,” commented Gloria. “Look at that.”

He turned and saw the remains of a phone hanging from the wall. “This is seriously weird. I didn’t think this town could creep me out anymore. Are you sure this wasn’t here?”

She shook her head. “Of course I’m sure.” Gloria stood beside him, “Shine the torch on that sign again, Gavin. Oh wait; I know where this goes to. Don’t you recognise that logo?”

He shook his head.

Gloria sighed. “It’s the meat processing plant. This must be one of their fire exits.”

“Because spending all that time, effort, and money creating a fire exit that leads to the middle of an abandoned mine shaft is normal? There is something else going on here, Gloria.”

“I’m sure there is, but does it really matter though?”

Gavin took her hand and led the woman away from the door. “No, I don’t suppose it does matter. Nothing in this crazy town makes any sense to me anymore. It’s just my cop curiosity getting the better of me.”

She pointed to the other side of the mine. “There’s another door there.”

He nodded and dragged the woman away; his cop curiosity wasn’t the only instinct trying to get the better of him now. That being watched feeling had returned, stronger than ever. It was making his skin itch. “Come on, you,” he hissed, trying not to panic. “We need to get a move on.”

Gloria stopped dead and looked wide-eyed over his shoulder. “No!” she gasped.

“We can’t stay here!” he growled. “Have you lost your mind?”

She spun him around. “I was not talking about the doors this time. Gavin, just look at that!”

He shone the light along the new opening cut into the rock next to the original tunnel.

“What do you mean that wasn’t there before, Gloria.?”

“What part of that did you not fucking understand? This tunnel has no intersections.”

Gavin saw marks around the smaller tunnel and nodded to himself. She was right, the tunnel was recent, and he didn’t really see a bunch of townsfolk deciding to start up mining for coal. He shook his head and tried not to think about where that tunnel would lead to. He headed over to the original tunnel, still following the line.

“Gavin!” she screamed, grabbing his arm. “What the fuck are they?”

He shone the torch down the tunnel and saw three figures loping towards them, and his light reflected from the creature’s amber eyes. He spun around and saw that he’d been right all along, there were another half a dozen behind them, and they must have been following them for hours. “Come on,” he said, dragging her into the new tunnel.

“Are they behind us? Please don’t tell me they are following us, Gavin.”

He squeezed her hand. “Just hush,” he whispered. “Look, if they wanted, those things could have run us down ages ago.” Gavin glanced behind him; he couldn’t hear them. “They’ve been following us for ages.”

“We’re heading into hell!” she hissed, gripping his hand tight. “Oh, we should turn back right now. I don’t like this one bit.”

Gavin dragged her further into the tunnel, the silly woman was right. HE could make out more detail as they ventured further in. He sighed and pointed at the ceiling. “Just hush, Gloria, that’s the best idea.” Gavin looked at the red light bulbs set into the roof of the tunnel; he was beginning to see some of what was happening now. Most of the situation made no sense but he did guess that this channel was connected to the factories. This was human built; he couldn’t imagine those monsters screwing in a light bulb. Gavin skidded to an abrupt halt when he turned the corner.

“What the fuck is this?”

He stared in disbelief at the two battered metal troughs running along either side of the wall. A couple of feet above the troughs he saw a dozen metal gutters jutting out of the rock. Foul smelling grey slop steadily dripped from each pipe.

“Oh no, they’ve followed us in. What are we going to do?”

Gavin slowly turned around and saw two of their pursuers standing in the middle of the cavern. He watched them both sniff the air before looking towards the troughs.

“They’re real,” she hissed. “The bogeymen are real!”

They both spun their heads towards the woman and growled. Gavin clamped his hand over her mouth just hoping the foolish woman would get the message. Oh Jesus, those things were attracted to sound! He watched them head straight to the two troughs, and he tried not to even breathe. This was just unbelievable. They might even be able to get out of here.

Gavin took his eyes off the creature just for a moment when something shiny caught his eye. A soggy cardboard lasagne cover floated past him. These things were feeding on waste from the local factories. It boggled his mind to wonder why anyone would go to so much trouble in keeping these sub-human animals alive and fed. From his experiences with the savages above ground, they weren’t that far removed from whatever the fuck these things were.

He took his hand away from her mouth and pressed his finger against his lips; surely she could see that it was her fool whining that caught their attention. Gavin let go of the woman and crept over to the two creatures, listening to them slurp up the vile lumpy mess; it took a large amount of self-control not to push them forward so he wouldn’t have to touch their bodies.

They both growled deep in their throats as Gavin squeezed between them, and the sound turned his bowels to water. He expected the pair of them to suddenly spin around and dive on him. Gavin caught his breath and thanked God when he got past the creatures. He turned and frantically gestured to the terrified woman.

“I can’t move, Gavin! Help me!”

As soon as she spoke, Gavin saw both of them raise their heads and sniff the air. He heart leapt into his throat as they started to growl again, he slowly backed off, listening as their growls grew deeper.

“Don’t leave me!” she wailed.

They stiffened, and turned to face the woman, when she moaned again. They both rushed her. Gavin silently whimpered and ran out of the tunnel with her frantic shrieking ringing in his ears.

Chapter Thirteen

He had always thought that the word ‘moderation’ was something only queers and losers said. Dave used that word all the fucking time, usually when it was his turn to get a round in, the tight cunt. Phil lived his life to excess, never moderating anything. Until now, he didn’t even think that you could get too much of a good thing.

Phil leaned back against the cracked white tiles and gazed up at the muted yellow lighting. This had been the first time that he’d ever been in the shitty assembly plant after clocking out, and it felt so strange to be in a familiar place without wearing his protective clothing, almost as odd as seeing all these strangers in here tonight. What was even stranger was how uncomfortable he felt with the whole situation; it was as if these brain dead fuck-heads had invaded his house. He pushed that stupid thought away; it had no place in his head.

The man at the front of the room currently standing on one of the packing tables was still going on about how the united consciousness of Brutality was now burning brighter than the fires outside. Phil tried to tune out the dickhead’s well annoying voice, but it was just no good. Daniel was impossible to ignore.

That man demanded the attention of everyone in the packed room. Phil reckoned that nearly every local must be in here tonight. Their rapt faces hung from every word that spewed out of that gobshite’s mouth. Most of Daniel’s audience were made up of the freaky zombie bastards. They really did make Phil’s skin itch. Daniel had already explained their situation to him and a few of the others who had escaped the zombification process. Apparently, the less imaginative just needed some more stimulation before they could begin the miraculous transformation.

Back when those sugar-coated words dripped from Daniel’s mouth, just like these fuckwits currently listening to the twat ramble on, Phil felt pride and gratitude fill him to the brim. That, though, was before all the artificial euphoria wore off. Looking back, he wanted to punch himself for falling for all that bullshit.

The blonde tart stood beside him. It disgusted him to see that the mental bitch wore the same cow-like mask as the rest of these clowns.

Phil examined all the other people around him, trying to find anyone else as bored of this shite as he was. It shocked him to discover that he was the only body in here that wasn’t paying attention.

What made him so different to all the others? True, most of the people in here were dumb fucking retards that had problems counting past four, but there were a few people in the room who did have more than just two brain cells, and they shouldn’t have fallen for Daniel’s lies. Maybe he was just the first one to awaken from this trance, and the others would be snapping out of it at any minute.

Phil was just like everyone else in the beginning. A pang of regret and a little bit of jealousy flowed through him when he remembered those first emotions after Daniel had fucked with his mind. God, the blood-boiling ecstasy that crashed through his nervous system when he saw the life draining from the outsiders that they had caught was just orgasmic.

He and Lisa had caught and killed four of them. Their first kill had to be the best, some mental old woman who had chosen the wrong time to leave her house to put some rubbish in her garden bin. Straight away, they both knew that she wasn’t a local. For a start, she was acting as if nothing had happened; she was even humming to herself. All that changed when the woman spotted the pair of them leaping over her low fence. The woman’s stupid mutt had run out from her house, galloped between the woman’s legs, and fastened its teeth on Lisa’s ankle.

Phil had pissed himself laughing when Lisa had picked up the toy poodle, swivelled her hips, and impaled the dog on the metal fence. The old woman had gone fucking wild at that. He had soon shut the bitch up, though, and a swift punch to her face had soon quietened that mouth. Her nose just detonated. The sight of all that crimson fluid flying from her face had acted like a trigger to the pair of them. The next recollection was of looking down and seeing that they had literally stamped her body into the lawn. Lisa was sat in the middle of the bloodied mess, licking off lumps of jellied blood from her fingers. He then noticed that she had removed her clothes. Phil’s passion had gone volcanic.

He sighed at the memory of the incredible sex that had followed; Phil had almost passed out again when he finally did cum. Before leaving the site of their first kill, Lisa had picked up one of the old woman’s ears and ran into the house. She had emerged a few minutes later with the organ sewn into the side of her stomach. It hadn’t bothered Phil; the extra kinkiness just incensed his passion and made him more impatient to find another outsider to slaughter.

The doubt that perhaps Daniel had fucked with his head only began after the third kill.

They had made their way to the town centre after a fruitless house search a few streets away. Lisa had told him that she needed to do another one so he could fuck her again. She suggested that although a lot of the outsiders will be cowering in their rabbit hutches, a few of the braver ones would have gone to town in search of answers, and they would be more fun to fuck up.

They had found their last kill easy enough. Two minutes after entering the town centre Lisa had started to tremble. She had pointed in the general direction of the shuttered up discounted supermarket. Phil then saw him, a young lad running into the alley between two buildings. He had recognised the kid immediately. The stupid looking lime green coat gave it away. Lisa had just spotted Phil’s next-door neighbour, a dorky little arsehole called Weston Briggs.

His annoying family had moved into the house opposite theirs a few months ago. In normal circumstance, Phil wouldn’t have paid much attention to new arrivals in the estate. In normal circumstances, new arrivals didn’t come with a well fuckable dark haired teen lass with perfect tits and shapely legs.

They followed the boy into the alley. It was weird, even as they were bashing the little cunt’s head into the wall, all he could think of was banging Weston’s sister and then doing his mum. He wanted to fuck the women without actually killing them. Oh, he’d have slapped them about a bit, that was normal, but he wouldn’t have actually done them in.

It dawned on him that the act of killing was just not for him. All his life, Phil had got a buzz out of torture, out of inflicting pain and hurting people, but the simple fact was that the dead felt nothing. Just like he felt nothing when they butchered their last victim, that freaky security guard.

He jumped a little when the blond tart snuggled into his arm. It didn’t really surprise Phil to see that Lisa hadn’t taken her eyes off Daniel. He wanted to push the bitch away from him. The new additions that she had sewn into her arm were digging into his skin, and it was well fucking uncomfortable. Phil then noticed that Lisa wasn’t the only one who had taken up the weird concept of trophy collecting. Gazing around the crowd, he found that none of the others were as decorated as Lisa, but Phil did spot a few of them that had collected the odd body part, mainly the younger crowd.

Daniel had turned the locals in his town into a bunch of fucking savages. The cunt had addicted them, getting them high on killing and violence, mainly killing. This fucker was no saviour; he was just another drug pusher. Phil wanted no part of this charade anymore. He wanted his old life back, and he decided that he preferred his violence in short bursts.

Phil broke out of his musing when he became aware that Daniel had stopped talking. He then saw that everyone in the room was glaring at him instead.

“Am I boring you, Phil?” Daniel walked up the packing table looking at each of the assembled people. “I have liberated all of you. I’ve set you free and broken the shackles that this town has placed upon you. Thanks to me, there will never be a need to hide your passions and desires.”

A low murmur emerged from the crowd.

“Yet, there is one man who isn’t so grateful. That one at the back wants to regress to how it once was. Phil believes that how you feel and how you behave is somehow deviant and should not be advertised.” A wry smile emerged from him. “Do you want to go back to how it once was?”

That low murmur increased in volume. Phil saw their dull expressions dropping off their gormless faces. A tiny shiver travelled up his spine when he saw just how angry they now all looked. Even Lisa was glaring at him. Daniel jumped off the table, the crowd parted as the man approached Phil.

“The thing is, young man, I do understand your feelings, I really do. I see you all as my children, Phil.” The man bent down and stroked the back of his hand down Lisa’s cheek. His fingers continued their journey down her front. The woman groaned when he cupped her large breasts. “I have been away from here for many centuries, Phil. I left disillusioned, not believing in the great work anymore.” The man then pushed Lisa onto her knees. “It’s all been a lie, there is no greater power, and the great work is a lie.” He began to unfasten his trousers. “So, you have a simple choice, you are either with me or against me.”

Phil then noticed the young slag in the tight dress he had lusted over in the nightclub. The little bitch was hiding just behind Daniel. Her appearance had diminished somewhat since he had last seen her.

“Let’s burn the bastard!”

The man spun around, his arm flew forward, and catching the girl on the side of her head she staggered back, crying out. Phil grinned when he saw the little bitch curling up under the table, weeping.

“Don’t you ever interrupt me!” Daniel screamed. He sighed, fastened up his trousers, and gently pushed Lisa back. He took a deep breath before pulling the girl out from under the table. “I think not. It would be a waste of good meat. Phil is a very big boy. I know that some of our lesser distinguished townsfolk who would relish such a quality meal.”

It took just seconds for Phil to work out exactly what the bastard intended to do. Daniel was talking about the two families. That cunt intended to feed him to the fucking regressives! The man closed the distance between them in two paces. Phil was ready for the fucker. He pulled out his thin-bladed knife and slashed out at Daniel, aiming to open up his guts. Daniel jumped back before the knife made contact.

Phil jerked up his head and glared at Daniel, and he then saw something move under the man’s skin. It stretched out like a fist pushing against the inside of a balloon. He wasn’t about to stop to see what would happen next. Phil kicked Lisa out of the way, pushed through the zombies, and ran through the double doors that led to the main factory. He hurtled down two flights of steps and raced into the main food processing area. He closed the door behind him and grabbed a sweeping brush lying beside the door. He pushed the pole between the two handles and stood back. That should hold them for a few minutes at least. He only needed a few minutes to get the fuck out of here.

Phil turned around, looking for a fire-exit. He needed one that would take him into the real carpark and not to the front of the building. His plan was to hide out on the wasteland behind the factory until he could work out what to do next. The idea of hiding went against the grain of his whole personality. Phil would punch any cunt who’d dare to call him a coward. Even so, he wasn’t stupid enough to think he could take on the whole town and win.

His pondering was interrupted by the sound of a quiet moan. Phil ducked down, annoyed with himself that his instinct had failed to inform him that he wasn’t alone. He stilled his breathing and slowly smiled when the low moaning restarted. The noise was coming from behind one of the huge steel mixers at the far end of the room. He silently hurried over to the bank of mixers and peered around the first metal drum. Phil grinned at the sight of their latest shift supervisor standing directly above a vat of cream sauce base with his trousers around his ankles.

The supervisor’s eyes were shut tight while his hand was gripped tight around his thick penis. Phil watched in fascination as he violently masturbated, occasionally releasing a quiet moan. He’d never seen anyone else apart from the women he fucked do this. He then realised just how pervy and weird it was to watch another man play with himself, and he shut his eyes.

Phil was so glad that he never ate any of the filth that came off these conveyor belts. His diet consisted of takeaways and restaurant food. Phil then remembered all the waiters and counter staff that he had threatened, abused, and generally pissed off over the years. He would never know what else they had added to his food after Phil had insulted them. He listened to the man cry out as he climaxed and felt a little sick, knowing that he could have very well eaten food diluted with another man’s creamy seed.

He waited for him to finish dripping the fluid into the vat before he rushed over to him. Phil reached around and placed his thick fingers around the man’s penis. “I’m not entirely too sure why you weren’t with the rest of the clowns upstairs, buddy.” He gave the man’s deflated organ a sharp squeeze when the man tried to wriggle out of Phil’s grip. “If you do that one more time, you vile fucker, I’ll rip off your cock and make you eat it.” Phil squeezed it again, just to make sure he had received the message. He tapped the man’s cheek with his knife. “When those cunts come down here, you’re going to tell them that you haven’t seen me, okay?”

The supervisor nodded. “Please let go,” he squealed. “You’re hurting me.”

“I could cut off your cock, if you like. It would hurt a lot less than me just ripping it off.”

Phil’s own cock started to harden at the sight of the man’s tears rolling down his cheeks. “Okay, I think you’re getting the idea. Just remember, I will be watching you. I’m sure you can guess what I’ll do if you do betray me.”

The supervisor nodded again.

“Just remember what I said, fuckface.” He released the man and ran over to the storage bays, heading for the fire exit when he heard the sound of splintering wood. He ducked behind a brick pillar and listened to that two-faced fucker screaming out Phil’s name and telling his pursuers exactly where Phil was heading.

“Bollocks,” he uttered when he caught sight of three figures rushing past his hiding place. They were running straight towards the fire exit, cutting off his escape. Oh, this was so frustrating. He should have just drowned that pervy twat in the white sauce. Now what was he going to do? His eyes travelled down to his feet and saw that he wasn’t trapped after all. He was standing on one of the many sluice outlets dotted around this floor.

He crouched down, forced his knife into the gap between the floor and the circular metal plate, and lifted the cover up, trying not to make any noise.

The ladders below led into the vast network of pipes that ran under every food producing shop and factory in Brutality. All waste products were fed into the tunnels through conduits that led to the two families’ domains. Their contribution helped to keep the populations getting too hungry and emerging out into the open to search for other food sources.

It looked like he would be going down there after all. At least this way, it would be on his own terms. If they had caught him, the fuckers would have probably worked him over and broken a few of his bones before tying him up and leaving him down there as helpless as a baby.

He held his breath and lowered his body into the hole. Phil grabbed the first rung of the ladders; it fucking stank disgusting down here, mainly of old food. Still, the smell must be mild compared to the sewers under the two abattoirs and the takeaways and restaurants in town.

Phil watched Daniel holding the supervisor over the vat. It appeared that the man wasn’t all that happy with the supervisor. From what he could make out, Daniel was asking him why he hadn’t kept hold of Phil. He watched Daniel drop the man into the sauce before placing the plate back in place.

Phil slowly climbed down the ladders, and the sewers were now pitch black. He wished that he had brought a torch. Hell, he’d given up smoking a few months back, so he didn’t even have a lighter on him.

“This is just so much bollocks,” he muttered. Phil reached the floor and groaned when he landed in a puddle of freezing water. “Where the fuck do I go now?” He stiffened and grabbed the rungs when he heard the sound of something growling close by.

Chapter Fourteen

Caroline Hardy balanced the vodka bottle and tuna sandwich in one hand as she reached for the living room door. “Oh, you sneaky little bugger!” she cried as the sandwich slipped out of her hand. The bread and contents splattered across the kitchen tiles. Caroline sighed; she opened the door, stepped over the mess, and strode towards her work desk. The sandwich catastrophe could stay on the floor for all she cared. Caroline was just thankful that it wasn’t the vodka that had slipped out of her hand.

“What would it matter?” She turned and stared at the floor, imagining if she would have left it there if it had been smashed glass and vodka spread across the tiles. She shrugged, and knowing how she felt, the answer would probably be yes. After all, there was still one more bottle hidden at the back of the cupboard, kept there for emergencies, just like this one.

“Fuck them all,” she whispered. Oh yeah, this was an emergency all right, her emotional well-being was officially shot to shit today.

Caroline looked over to the phone, noticing that she hadn’t bothered to replace the receiver. Just like the mess on the kitchen floor, there now didn’t seem to be any point in taking the time and effort. Hell, it is not as if he was going to ring her up and explain that it had all been a huge mix up.

“He had enjoyed telling me that,” she muttered, reaching for the bottle. “Oh yeah, that bloody Andy had certainly got off on my sister’s death alright.” She caught her reflection in the bottle, and it occurred to her that she had not shed one tear since that copper had gleefully told her that her brother-in-law had killed April.

“I’m not really grieving, that’s why.” She prised off the cap. “I’m just going through the motions.”

Caroline had never been able to stand the bitch, and if she searched her feelings, she found that she was happy April was finally out of her life.

“No, no way. Fuck that, I do not believe that!” Caroline got the cap off the bottle and poured herself a generous measure, doing her best to keep her hand steady. She put the bottle back on the desk and fell in her chair. “No, it’s not really true,” she whispered.

She gazed in despair at the untidy pile of workbooks on the desk in front of her. She should have marked these at school, but Caroline didn’t wish to spend more time than necessary at that horrible place. The last job she wanted to do right now was to go through these books. The desire to just take this bottle, collect the other one, and lock herself in her bedroom sounded like the best idea in the universe.

“I need to stay focussed.” Caroline drank half the contents of the glass, groaning with pleasure as the liquid burned its way down her throat. Maybe not totally focussed, just enough to remember what planet she was on. Book marking, as tedious as it was, would help Caroline put her confused mind back into some sort of order.

As she picked the first book off the pile, the feel of the cheap wallpaper under her fingertips evoked memories of her time at the school as a pupil. There were some practises in Brutality that were timeless, and the teacher asking the kids to cover their workbooks with wallpaper was one of them.

Caroline placed the book in front of her and ran her fingers down the front, smiling. Their mum had found a spare roll of wallpaper in the attic, and Caroline remembered squealing with excitement at the sight of the paper. She hadn’t seen that pattern for years. Their parents had decorated her bedroom three years previously, mainly due to April’s insistence that eleven-year-old girls do NOT have teddy bear wallpaper in their room anymore.

What April demanded, she usually got. Her sister has refused to cover her book with what she had described as childish rubbish; instead, she had chosen the cover of some teen magazine. April had always tried to gain the upper hand in every situation. She had completely dominated Caroline’s life whilst growing up.

She drained her glass and poured herself another measure. Caroline then took a swig from the bottle. April hadn’t gained the upper hand in every situation though. The delicious memory of discovering that Caroline had managed to pass her teaching qualifications and her sister hadn’t passed any of them came flooding back.

“A bitter victory,” she murmured.

Caroline opened the workbook and squinted at the pages of tiny incomprehensible writing. She squeezed her eyes shut, and then opened them. It was no good; she hadn’t drunk enough of the vodka to turn the words into something that she could understand. Caroline flipped through the beginning of the workbook and stared at the rest of the pages in confusion. The presentation for the girl’s previous assignments was beautiful. It was as if somebody else had written her work today. Caroline leaned closer and sighed in resignation as the words focused into legibility. The girl had filled four pages with just three words. She’d written ‘fuck you Caroline’ in microscopic writing.

“Oh, you are so hilarious.” She drew a large red X on all the four pages then dropped the book on the floor.

Both sisters had shared the dream of becoming teachers ever since leaving primary school; apart from having opposing personalities, it was one trait that shared. Caroline might have been the only sister to achieve her dream, but the reality was nothing like she had imagined.

Being a teacher was probably the closest that she ever got to interacting with normal people in this diseased town. The kids in Brutality didn’t start to get really mean until their hormones kicked in. Caroline picked the next book off the pile. Her job had not been that bad a few years ago, but back then she used to teach the primary kids. All that changed when they moved her to the larger school.

The weird and fucking terrifying change had never affected Caroline or April. They weren’t true natives though. Their family had relocated to Brutality when the sisters were only two years old.

“This is a very bad town,” she whispered.

Caroline stood up and walked over to the kitchen; this was no good, she really did need to put something in her mouth. If she didn’t find anything to soak up the booze in her stomach, she’d be unconscious within an hour. “And that’s a bad thing?” She was only twelve when the first kid in her class went through the change. After that single boy had turned, the rest of the class soon followed suit until only she and April were left. She felt like a lamb in a classroom of wolves. It had been a terrifying experience.

She had learned very quickly that to avoid them singling her out, she had to emulate their vile and disgusting behaviour. Caroline had cried herself to sleep on many of those unforgettable nights. She had been a very bad girl during her teenage years; it was the only way to survive though. She and April weren’t the only non-native children in the town. While most of them had copied the locals, not all the kids were quite so eager. The ones that didn’t commit acts of debauchery disappeared.

Thanks to the drink, Caroline had managed to block out most of her behaviour during that dark period, but she did remember that her sister had been able to fit in a lot easier than Caroline had. Her sister had shown no remorse with feeding rat poison to the dairy cows that grazed in the fields behind their house. April had even laughed along with all their mates when they died one by one. April had been the first sister to join in with their friend in playing the popular game of catching cats and trapping their tails in mousetraps.

She stepped over the mess on the floor and saw the fruit bowl on the end of the counter near the bread bin. “That’ll do,” she said, grabbing an apple. Caroline wandered back to her desk, remembering that April never cried herself to sleep.

“What the fuck am I still doing here? I should have run away from this horrible place fucking years ago.” She laughed bitterly. It was strange how Caroline only asked that very important question after she had started to drink. “Welcome to Brutality. You’ll never leave here alive.”

That statement was so true. Once the town had sunk its hooks into your mind and body, it never relinquished its victims.

As the years went by, Caroline had tried to kid herself that she couldn’t leave the town; that she had to stay here for the sake of the kiddies. The poor little blighters needed to experience some piece of normality before whatever was wrong with this town grabbed them and turned every one of the kids into pint-sized monsters.

Caroline took another swig from the bottle then took a bite of her apple. She ran her hand down the front of the workbook in front of her and read the name scrawled in large red letters along the top. Caroline was so tempted to just throw this one straight into the bin. This one belonged to Tony McAllister. She let out a large groan and gulped down another mouthful of vodka,

She filled the glass with what was left from the bottle and dropped the now empty bottle in the bin beside her desk. It was so difficult to stop herself from just dropping the workbook in there as well then staggering back into the kitchen, grabbing that other bottle, and just going to bed. “Are you going to let them beat you, girl?” she slurred.

Tony was the first child in her class this year to have undergone the change. His hormones reared their ugly head just a couple of weeks ago, and he was already becoming more than just a distraction. Caroline had spotted a couple of others in the class who were starting to change as well.

The boy was due to disappear in a few days; she’d already been informed that Tony was due to go on a ‘vacation’ by the head. This always happened when the kid’s behaviour became too unmanageable. The kid would be absent for about a week and then return to class.

The change in their attitude was alarming. Gone was the open defiance, the bouts of violent tempers, and the unpredictable screaming. The returned kids just sat at their desks, kept quiet, and got on with their work. She swigged back a mouthful of vodka to stop her body from shaking when she remembered the dread of gazing into their dead eyes.

The adults, the locals had re-shaped their kid’s minds. Their own parents had conditioned the poor little bastards and taught them how to hide their deviations, how to pass off as normal kids.

“They’re monsters in lamb’s clothing.”

Despite knowing exactly what would welcome her beyond the cover of Tony’s workbook, Caroline still opened it. She shivered again, trying not to feel queasy at the sight of the boy’s crude and grotesque drawing that covered every one of his pages. His illustrations were of what Caroline guessed was Tony, judging by the hock of ginger hair on the drawing. Each figure was naked and proudly displaying his erect genitalia. He had drawn himself in various poses, pushing that monster into some poor woman. Despite the fact that his artistic skills were not that good, it didn’t take much figuring out to see that the woman was supposed to be her.

“Fuck, I really do need to get out of here.” The need to leave this fucked up town had never been greater. Caroline knew she just had to escape before something bad happened to her. Judging by the filth that was going through Tony’s sickened mind, Caroline had a good idea just what was in store for her if she didn’t take notice of her drunken mind.

“Will you just admit it to yourself, woman? They are all lost causes.” She looked at her glass, not realising that she had emptied it. Caroline was close to becoming a lost cause herself. She dropped the glass in the bin followed by Tony’s workbook.

Caroline might have lived in this town for nearly all of her life, but it still wasn’t enough for the others. She wasn’t born in Brutality, and consequently, never felt like she had truly belonged. The natives took great pleasure in reminding her of this fact on a daily basis.

Their closed mouths and refusal to involve her with their lives had not stopped Caroline from hearing of the repeated rumours of strangers coming to Brutality and never leaving, at least not alive or in one piece.

“But I’m not a fucking stranger!” she cried, rubbing her hands over her moist forehead. “I don’t know where else to go.” She gripped her desk, trying to stop the shakes. Oh, God, she was such a fucking mess.

Hell, of course she was a stranger to the natives. It didn’t matter to these people if you had been here for twenty years or twenty minutes. It was about time she woke up to the plain and simple fact that she was wasting her time and effort with these kids. They didn’t need Caroline; the people in Brutality didn’t need anyone.

Caroline jerked up her head. She was sure that she’d just heard the sound of tapping on the window behind her. She scraped back her chair and managed to get up without tripping over her wobbly feet and falling onto the carpet. This vodka really had fucked up her balance. There was nothing there; it was probably just a sparrow head-butting the glass again. She sat back down and automatically picked up another workbook. Her anxiety of staying in this dammed town was already starting to fade as the alcohol made her feel very tired.

The reality of her situation was simple. Sure, Brutality was not the best place to live, but it was her home, and despite the locals never making her feel very welcome, they had at least left her to her own devices. It made logical sense to believe that if they wanted to make her disappear, they would have done it years ago.

At least here, Caroline knew where she stood. Unlike everywhere else in this shitty country, you could at least be guaranteed to be safe at night. “Unless you’re a stranger,” she whispered.

Caroline screamed out in shock when the glass in her patio door exploded inwards, showering fragments across her tiled kitchen floor. She spun around and cried out as Tony McAllister pushed his large body through the now empty doorframe. The youth brushed lumps of glass out of his hair before striding over the Caroline.

“So, this is that your home looks like,” he said, standing over her, with his big hands pressed against his hips. “It’s a bit of a shithole, miss. There’s fucking glass everywhere. Ain’t you a lazy bitch! Don’t you ever clean up?”

She watched three more boys climb through the patio doorframe. They strutted over and stood behind Tony, each one wore a similar smirking face. She knew all three of the other boys. They were a year older than Tony and she vividly remembered their disruptive presence in her classroom last year. Despite the age difference, it was clear that Tony was their leader.

God, it seemed like he’d grown even larger since she’d last seen him yesterday. How was that even possible?

Tony picked the workbook out of the bin. “I see that you have had a look at my drawings.” He grinned, showing off his block-like yellow teeth. “I think they’re pretty good, although I’m a bit upset that you threw my book away.”

Caroline watched another figure climb into her kitchen.

“Andy? Oh god, what the fuck is happening here?”

The man held up a black piece of scuffed material and shook it. The material rolled down to display a selection of kitchen knives. “Don’t just fucking stare at her, Tony. Grab the bitch and hold her down.”

Caroline staggered away from the two men. Her feet then betrayed her and she crashed to the floor. “Please don’t hurt me!” Through blurred eyes, she saw Andy stood at the back; he wasn’t even looking at her. He now had taken one of the knives out of the roll and was running his finger along the blade.

“These knives took away your sister,” he said. “I remember you once saying to me that you wanted everything that your April got.”

The approaching boy took a deep breath. “You embarrassed me in front of my mates last week, miss. I did not find that very funny. I got my own back by imagining me fucking your juicy little cunt until you passed out, hence the drawings. I can’t believe that it’s really going to happen.”

She screamed out when Tony lunged forward and slammed the palm of his hand against her forehead. He then grabbed her leg and pulled. “Save your pretty voice for later on, Miss, you’ll need it. Don’t worry, miss. Andy isn’t going to fuck you; he just wants to try out his new toys on your flesh. It won’t hurt, at least not at the beginning.” Tony rolled Caroline onto her back and sat on her stomach. “Andy says I can have a play once he’s finished with you.” He placed his hands on the woman’s breasts and squeezed. “Don’t worry though, although I do intend to act out all my fantasies on your broken body. I’m sure that you’ll enjoy yourself as much as I will.” He laughed. “I tell you, I can’t fucking wait.”

Chapter Fifteen

Amber kept hold of his hand while she pulled Dave through the dark labyrinth of tunnels. He glanced behind and moaned at the sight of Max lagging behind. It looked as though the man’s almost superhuman virility did have a limit. “Wait on, Amber,” he whispered. Dave let go of the girl’s hand, turned around, and ran over to Max.

“What are you slowing down for?” he panted. “Come on, move those feet.” He felt Amber leaning over him. Dave grabbed the man’s arm and waited for Amber to grab the man on the over side. “Are you ready?”

Amber nodded. “We need to move,” she said. “They’re getting closer.”

Dave picked the man off the ground. He just nodded, Amber was right about the things gaining, and he could smell the bastards.

He picked up the pace, trying not to stumble over the river of tiny sharp stones beneath their feet. They carried the man along the tunnels which descended into what felt like the bowels of the earth.

“Oh fuck!”

Dave fell back against the sharp stones with Max landing on his feet; Amber had lost her grip and slipped down the slope. “Are you okay?”

“No, that bloody hurt.” Amber picked herself off the floor and limped towards them. “I’ll survive; it’s mainly my self-respect that was hurt.” Amber helped Max up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

He wanted to push Max out of the way, wrap his arms around her body, and hold Amber tight against his chest. Dave looked at her. “Okay, we’ll try this way. Help him onto my back.”

Max shook his head and looked deep into his eyes. “No, that’s not going to happen.” He whispered. “You two need to go on; just leave me here.”

“No way!” he gasped. “We can’t do that.”

The tramp nodded. “Yes, you can, Dave. If we all stay then we will all die down here.”

“What did you just say?”

“Amber, talk some sense into this idiot. He says that we have to leave him down here.”

Amber ran over to them. “We won’t abandon you, Max. Don’t ask us to do that.”

He shrugged. “I’m only being practical. This body has served its purpose. It’s already started to break down. Don’t you worry about me. My Ka will find another one. Despite him burning most of the corpses, there will be another one somewhere. Just follow these tunnels. They will lead you straight to the meat packing factory.”

“Wait, what do you mean that you just find another body? You make it sound like you’re just going to try on another fucking coat. Nobody can swap bodies.”

Max smiled at Dave before turning to Amber before sighing. “Girl, listen to me. I was wrong earlier about the powers ignoring my pleas. They have been listening, I can see that now.” He pointed to Amber’s grazed knee. “There is fresh blood in the air now. They know that their quarry is hurt. They’ll not give up. They don’t often get the opportunity to consume red meat. The locals keep the families fed, but they daren’t give them fresh flesh; they don’t want them to get used to the taste.”

Max then spun around, pushed past Dave, and sprinted in the opposite direction.

“Oh God, no, Max, come back!” Dave tried to run after him, but Amber already had her fingers dug deep into the fabric of his jumper.

“Let him go,” she shouted, pulling him back. “Come on, let’s get out of here. He’s made his choice. Don’t let him sacrifice his body for nothing. You know that we’ll see him again.”

“Oh, my God, you honestly don’t believe that mountain of bullshit that he just spun, do you?”

“Does it matter what I think, Dave? He fucking believed it.” She grabbed both his shoulders and pushed her face into his. “Time to go!”

He nodded, and then looked over his shoulder one last time. Dave finally saw what had been running them down for the last few minutes. He couldn’t see it clearly because it was still too far away, and the low flickering yellow light fucked with his perception, but he knew for a fact that it wasn’t human. It was more apelike. The thing slowed down and finally stopped moving. It crouched down and watched the tramp slowly approach. Max then stopped himself and turned around.

“Get out of here!” he screamed.

The creature jumped; it obviously wasn’t expecting the man to make any noise—unless it was just confused. Dave remembered what Max had said about them relying on sound to hunt, and he moaned in horror as the snarling creature charged and dived on the man. Dave grabbed Amber and ran. He glanced back again just once to see that a dozen more creatures had joined the ape creature. They seemed to be fighting amongst themselves; there was no sign of Max.

Dave choked back a sob, “Oh fuck,” he panted. “I still can’t believe that he went and did it.”

“They’re not following us now.”

“Not yet anyway,” muttered Dave. “I’m not sure how much more of this madness I can take.”

“You can stop feeling sorry for yourself. You told me that we’re going to Alton Towers tomorrow. Just remember that.”

Dave tried to answer and found that he just couldn’t get the words out, not without breaking down in tears. It seemed like hours ago since he had said those words to Amber. Back then, he had honestly thought that their troubles were almost over. Dave increased his speed, keeping up with her. The noises coming from those creatures were eventually dying away, but he had no illusions that this evil town had finished with them just yet. There would be something else even fucking worse around the next corner.

The tunnel then came to an abrupt end. “Oh, fuck!” he cried, falling to his knees. “This can’t be happening.” Was some fucker up there taking the piss? He didn’t mean his last thought. Dave shut his eyes, counted to three, and opened them again. It hadn’t worked; their path was still blocked.

“Now what do we do?”

Dave shrugged. He dug the torch out of his back pocket and shone the light at the rock-fall. He approached the blockage and tried to pull one of the stones free. He gave up after a few seconds; this wasn’t going to shift. He knew for a fact that they hadn’t passed any other turnings or junctions since coming down those steps. Yet there must be another way out of here; those other fuckers must have come from somewhere.

“Dave, I’m sorry, I really can’t take any more of this,” uttered Amber. She dragged herself over to a large stone by the wall and sat on it.

How could he offer any comfort to Amber when he felt exactly the fucking same as she did? Dave shone the torch along the side of the walls one last time hoping that maybe that had missed something. He sighed heavily. Who was he kidding? Why couldn’t he just admit to himself that this really was the end of the line?

“I don’t want to die down here, Dave.”

He hurried over and knelt down in front of her. “Let’s have a look at those knees,” he said, avoiding her eyes. “They don’t look so bad.” He licked the palm of his hand before gently wiping away some of the dried blood. “You have beautiful knees, Amber.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Dave moved his hand away from her and paused. “What the fuck?” the palm of his hand cooled down. He licked his hand again and pushed it between her legs.

“Dave?”

“Bloody hell” he gasped, I think I can feel a breeze. Amber stand up” When she jumped over his arm he press his hand flat against the wall. “Oh, this is just unreal!” he giggled. He crouched down and traced his fingers along a gap between two stones, smiling when his finger went straight through. He placed his hands between the stone below, counted to three, and pushed, shouting in triumph as the stone fall forward leaving a hole.

“Oh my God, it’s a bloody opening!”

Dave nodded, trying to keep his relief in check. “Yeah, we might have just found our way out of here.”

Amber crouched down next to him and helped to clear away the loose stones. “I think there’s enough space now for us to crawl through, Dave.” She grabbed his head and kissed him. “I’m having a hot dog then an ice cream before you take me on any rides, sweetheart. I’d better warn you now, I’m not cheap.”

He pulled away from her kiss. “That sounded wrong on so many levels, Amber.” He grinned. “Not that I’m complaining.” Dave pushed his arm through the opening, shivering, cold; it was cold so on the other side of this wall. “Let me just check this out first.” He stuck his head through the gap and then swung the torch beam around, growing excited as he saw a rough path leading from the gap in the wall. He pulled the rest of his body through, then crouched down, and helped Amber through the small hole.

“I don’t get it, Dave. Why didn’t Max tell us about this hole?”

He shrugged, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that question. He started to push the fallen stones back into the gap. “To be honest, I have no idea. Perhaps he just forgot, or maybe he didn’t know about the cave in.” He shone the beam of light at the blocked up hole. It wasn’t as good as before, but he figured it would fool them as long as they didn’t inspect it too closely. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?”

She shook her head. “Don’t ask me that. I have no idea how I feel apart from very tired and feeling like my heart is about to burst out of my chest every time I hear a noise.” She put her hand over his. “I do know that if you hadn’t been with me I wouldn’t have gotten this far.”

“We’re almost out of it; I know we are, sweetheart. Come on, let’s see where this leads to.” He started to walk away from the blocked up opening, thankful to see that they were now going uphill. Dave went through all of Max’s conversations in his mind. Until now, his words had never truly sunk in. That man had said more than once that he’d been around for centuries. As improbable as it sounds, Dave began to wonder if there could be a grain of truth in what he said. After all, how was it any more fantastic than what he and Amber had experienced tonight?

“Amber, Max did mean every word of that, didn’t he?”

She nodded. “He knew what awaited him, sweetheart. What do you think?”

“I think that I might have been wrong, and there is a chance that we’ll meet the man again.” Dave stopped when something crunched under his foot. He shone the light onto the path and saw that he had just crushed a small bone. He didn’t want to know what animal that bone came from—if it even was an animal.

“I hope to fuck that those things back there don’t know about this tunnel. I’m not sure I’d be able to out run them if they did find out where we went. I think my body is about to fall apart.”

He turned and shone the light behind them. “I’d like to think that those creature were about as intelligent as a dog or maybe a cave dwelling ape,” he replied. “They’d probably bash a rock on your head, but I don’t think they’d be able to hide an opening with a bunch of stones.”

“Neither do I. So, who the hell did it?”

“I honestly don’t have a bloody clue. Maybe it was Max. Maybe it’s been there for decades or even longer, I don’t suppose it matters.

The roof was getting lower. Dave took off his jacket and used a sharp stone to cut the thread around the sleeves. He ripped them off and handed them to Amber. “Here, you’d best put these over your knees. I think we’ll be doing a fair bit of crawling for a bit.”

Dave kissed her. “Wait here.” He ran forward until it became impossible to stand up straight. Dave shone the torch to try and see if he could work out how long this tunnel was. It was no use; he couldn’t see more than a few feet.

“Could you see anything?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied. “I don’t think it’s that long.” He walked as far as he could before he had to drop to his knees. As he crawled, he did notice that the tunnel was getting a little lighter. Dave turned off the torch and looked behind him; he was relieved to find that he could make out her outline. “We might be close to the top, April.”

She sighed. “I don’t know. We did seem to go down very far, Dave. We haven’t been travelling upwards that long.”

The light was getting brighter; it felt wrong though. It wasn’t sunlight, it felt colder, like harsh light from a spotlight. Dave then grinned when he saw what looked like the way out. Oh yeah, as he crawled forward, the mouth of this tunnel became more definite. This tunnel led into another cavern, but this one was huge, and from where he was, Dave could see the shape of the cave; it looked exactly like the temple that they had first entered. As far as he was concerned, that must mean they were close to getting out of here.

His smile fell off his face when Dave reached the lip of the tunnel. “You have got to be fucking joking,” he whispered, gazing down at the cavern floor. The floor was full of sleeping people. At least, he guessed they were people. It was hard to be sure. They looked more human than the things they had encountered in the other tunnel but not by much. These reminded Dave of Neanderthals. He took a deep breath and looked back at Amber.

“We might have a problem here.”

Amber pushed past him and stiffened. “Shit.” She looked at him. “It looks like they are all asleep,” she whispered. “Look, we need to get past them; we have no other choice.”

Dave nodded. He gazed at them again, and he saw a pile of bones close to the edge of the sleeping men. “Wait here,” he said. Dave climbed down and quietly walked over to the bones, trying not to make a single sound. Before he bent down, Dave looked over at the bodies, listening to the snores. He guessed that there must be almost a hundred of them on the floor. Dave grabbed a skull and held it close to his face. At first, he thought it was human until he saw the ridges above the eye sockets. These must prey on the sub-humans. Oh hell, they had just crawled through their path to the human’s hunting patch. Oh shit, these fuckers were as bad as the other. He didn’t want to think how they’d react if any of them woke up to find him and Amber in the middle of them. They needed to get the fuck out of here. Dave gestured to the girl and was relieved to see her carefully picking her way towards him.

He wrapped his fingers around hers and could feel her shivering. Christ, this was just so unreal. He felt like they were tiptoeing through a minefield or a field full of sleeping lions, and jumping at every snore or unexpected noise.

Dave paused when Amber tapped him on the shoulder. He followed her pointed finger and grinned at the sight of a set of (a set of what?) leaning against the cavern wall. There was another tunnel over there. He pushed forward trying not to rush. Dave grabbed the ladder and pulled himself up onto the ledge above.

He turned and helped Amber onto her feet. For the first time since this nightmare began, Dave saw that she was actually smiling. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Look behind you,” she whispered.

Dave turned and smiled as well. There was another tunnel cut into the rock, but this one was different. Dave saw tiny ceramic tiles stuck to the four walls. It looked like an entrance to an underground railway station. What ever it was, he knew that the freaks behind them hadn’t built it.

“Time to go,” he hissed, grabbing her hand. He led her over to the entrance and into the tunnel. Unlike the other one, this wasn’t so long, even from the mouth, Dave could make out the shape of an archway cut into the wall. “I think we’re nearly there!”

Amber nodded, “Oh God, I can see a door; please tell me that’s a door.”

His excitement cooled down a little when they reached the end and noticed that they were no longer alone. He gazed down at another skeleton leaning against the wall. Unlike the others in the cavern this one was definitely human. There was a sword still gripped in one of its hands. He bent over and wrenched it out, feeling a little better now that he had a weapon.

“I think it was a Roman,” Amber whispered.

He nodded. He didn’t have a clue as to why he wasn’t all that surprised to find the skeleton of a Roman centurion down here.

Dave used the ancient sword to force the door open, and he jumped back in surprise. Of all the views that he expected to see, Dave did not expect that. “You have got to be shitting me!” He looked at Amber. “I’m not dreaming this am I?”

Amber shook her head and kissed him. “No, it’s not a dream. Come on, we can’t stay here.”

He led the girl through the door, looking in amazement at the shelves crammed with tinned food. This was somebody’s pantry or storeroom. He saw another door at the end. This one was just a plain door; one that he would expect to see in any house. Dave shut the door behind him and was not surprised to find that you could no longer see the metal door.

“Look at this, Dave.” Amber had picked a tin of beans off the shelf. “It doesn’t run out until next year.”

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s see where we are.” He took her to the other door and reached for the handle when he jerked back. “Amber,” he hissed. “I can hear someone on the other side.”

Chapter Sixteen

Jackie felt as though she’d circle. Her new hiding place was as distasteful as her spot behind the two women, only without the chains. Not that it made much difference; she couldn’t go anywhere. She looked up through the wooden floorboards a few inches from her nose, trying to breath in as much fresh air as she could. Jackie wanted to cry out; she wanted to throw up. It was just no good. No matter how much clean air she forced into her lungs, it just couldn’t obscure the stench that surrounded and threatened to suffocate her.

It should have clicked before she burrowed her way under this bandstand in the town’s park. The was the ideal hiding place all right, and by the looks of it, half the town already knew this little nugget of information. Jackie wasn’t alone under here but she was the only one still breathing. Dozens of decomposing animal corpses packed the narrow gap between the boards and the hard ground. Judging by the amount of dry skeletons under here, this place had been in use for decades.

The one right next to her hips wasn’t a dry skeleton. The poor doggy couldn’t have been here for more than a week. Some bastard had tied its paws together with shoelaces before torturing it. She had seen so much horror and wickedness in her time in this town, but this was just beyond evil.

Her activities after witnessing her brother’s demise had just blurred together. She felt as though she had spent hours just running and hiding from her pursuers, with no end in sight, and no way to escape this place, while wondering just how long it would be before her luck finally ran out and somebody did manage to catch her.

Jackie’s good fortune had almost come to a violent end just a few minutes ago. A group of young women had spotted her trying to break into a garage and had chased Jackie into the park. She had been able to slide her body under here before any of them had time to stop her vanishing. Their attention soon swapped from hunting her down to chasing some terrified boy around the swings. Jackie watched horrified as the women cornered the kid and just kicked him into a bloody pulp. What brought tears to her eyes was that each one of them were laughing every time they kicked the boy, yet there was nothing malicious about their giggles. It honestly sounded like they just having a fun night out, and murdering boys half their age was the best way to end a great evening.

The girls had left the park ages ago, but Jackie dare not leave here just yet. A bunch of eight young teen lads had passed by here less than two minutes ago, each lad boasting at how they were better at killing the outsider than any of the others. Like the girls, they saw the process of executing the strangers as just another part of their normal life. She knew right then that Jackie would find no sympathy with any of them; every local was intent on killing them all.

She closed her eyes after promising herself that she wouldn’t start crying again. Jackie was going to get out of here, and if any of those bastards thought otherwise, they’d soon get a taste of their own medicine. Jackie knew exactly how to get out of here, and she’d already found out the hard way that there’d be no help coming. While evading the roaming townsfolk, she’d tried every phonebox, only to discover all of them were broken. The others like her were no help; if any of the poor bastards were still alive they’d be too busy trying to stay that way.

What has happened to everybody? They sure weren’t running around like maniacs when she and James first came through the town. Sure, now she knew that the freaks were probably born all fucked in the head, but they had kept all their loony tune behaviour locked up. Jackie gazed through the floorboards and at the full moon. Maybe they all just went mental when the sun went down. Jackie had been in the town for a long time, but thanks to the two freaks who were permanently mental, she had no idea whether it was dark or light, locked up behind that chair.

Jackie then remembered the police station; they had passed the building on their way into town. They would have facilities to allow them to contact the outside world; of course, they would. She could head for that and hope that they hadn’t all gone crazy as well.

Her only remaining option was to just stay hidden under here, lying with the rotting animals, and wait for the sun to come up. Maybe they would have all changed back into normal people, or perhaps someone else had got lucky and had been able to call for help. That was a pleasing thought. Jackie pictured herself waking up to see a beautiful blue sky and sunlight streaming through these boards, turning her head to watch flashing blue lights from hundreds of police cars illuminating the park, and then smiling as soldiers and armed police were rounding up all the locals, “and blowing their heads off their shoulders,” she snarled.

Something cold dropped onto the back of her hand; she jerked her head around and saw a stream of maggots falling out of the dog’s mouth. They wiggled across her skin and fell through her fingers. Jackie gasped and rolled out from under the bandstand. She wiped her hand on the damp grass, wanting to vomit. Oh, that was just fucking vile. Why was this happening to her? Jackie checked both her arms and looked down her legs, making sure there were no more on here. No matter how many times she checked, the feel of those things crawling over her skin would not leave.

Jackie looked up at the moon, broke down, and sobbed. Jackie felt the tears down her cheeks but made no move to wipe them away. She wanted her brother back, and she wanted to leave this hellish place and go home. It wasn’t fair. Jackie dug her fingers into the wet grass, imagining that the dirt between her fingers was one of the locals. Right at that moment, she detected the sound of soft footfalls. There was no way she’d run and hide, not this fucking time. She looked up and saw one of the girls that attacked that poor kid heading straight for her. Jackie saw the look of amusement plastered all over her face; there was no fear whatsoever showing. She would soon show her that was a mistake.

“Come on then, you dirty bitch,” she growled, raising her fists. “You’re about to find out what real pain feels like.”

The other girl just giggled. “I knew it! I told the others that you hadn’t run off.”

Jackie’s stomach slowly turned over at the sight of her companions running out from behind a brick wall. She paused, not believing that she’d been so stupid to think that there was only one of them. She spun around and raced towards the main gates. She could hear them behind her trying to give chase, but they just weren’t able to keep up, and her need to escape far outweighed their desire to catch her. As she rocketed out of the park, Jackie turned to see that only two had managed to keep pace.

She ducked behind some bushes when another group of women ran past her. Jackie looked up and saw the town centre full of locals looking behind every bin and shop front. Oh God, this was a mistake, she should have ran the other way. She waited until the two girls who had chased her out of the park had run past before darting over the road, heading towards a discount supermarket. She nodded to herself when she spotted a narrow gap between the two buildings. It was an obvious place to run to, but Jackie was hoping that the locals had thought that as well and checked the place out already.

The coast was clear for the moment. She raced towards it, hoping that it would lead into a back yard; there might be somewhere for her to keep low until at least the sun had come up. There were just too many people around for her to try and get out of the town right now.

A large man holding a cricket bat burst out from the alley. She choked back a cry, knowing that this was how she was going to die.

“Don’t even think about screaming!” he hissed, glancing behind Jackie. “Believe me, I’m not going to hurt you, miss.”

Jackie shook her head, her confused and overloaded mind refused to believe the man’s words.

“Fuck, they’ve seen you.” He lunged forward and grabbed her shoulder. “Get behind me,” he said, pulling Jackie over to the wall.

Jackie flew towards the wall, holding out her hands to stop her head from crashing against the stone. What was going on? Had she actually found someone like her? She then noticed a police uniform under the man’s heavy coat. “You’re a copper?” The man did not reply, and she then saw why reason for his action. Those two girls from the park had doubled back and were walking towards them. The bitches were still smiling; did they not see the big man holding the cricket bat? Were they that arrogant to think that he wouldn’t use it? Jackie moaned. Why not? She did not even know that.

“Stay where you are,” he said. “No, scratch that idea; bugger off, the pair of you. I don’t want to use this.”

The girls just carried on walking towards them.

The man surprised the hell out of Jackie by running forward; he swung the bat and slammed the end into the side of the closest girl’s head. Her blood ran cold at the sound, and the girl fell to the pavement. The other girl’s face just dropped. She staggered back before spinning around and running back into the park.

The stranger looked down at the girl. “Oh Jesus, I think I’ve killed her.”

Jackie watched him slowly drag his finger through the crimson fluid dripping off the end of the bat.

“What the fuck have I just done?” He stared at Jackie. “I’ve known her all her life. I…” He growled and swung his arm back.

“Don’t get rid of it!” she cried. “Look, you did what you had to.” She took the bat out of his limp fingers. “I would like to go home, please. Please tell me that there’s a way out of this fucking mad town.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but we’re trapped in here. The bastards have blocked all the exits.”

“What do we do now?”

He seemed to come out of his trance. The man closed his eyes and rapidly shook his head. “The first thing we need to do is to get away from here; the remaining girl will no doubt be reporting our location as we speak. Come on.”

She followed the man further into the town, always looking to her left and right. There were other people in sight, but they weren’t watching them. She didn’t get it; why the fuck weren’t they coming after them? Was it because they weren’t skulking about? Jackie didn’t have a clue, although she did feel a little more secure now that she was no longer alone. Maybe it was the fact that she had hold of the bat, so those fools must think that they were locals too. She tightened her grip around the handle just praying that one of those nutjobs would realise that they were outsiders and rush towards her. Unlike the man, she had absolutely no conscience in battering one of them to death.

The man suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her into a wooden shelter designated for smokers outside a pub. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Look at that.”

Jackie peered around the scratched wooden panels and saw about a dozen people walking up the middle of the road; they all carried shotguns. They were staring at everybody, and she guessed that it wouldn’t be so easy to fool these men that they were locals.

“They’ve raided the police station.”

Her heart began to speed up when she noticed two of them peeling off from the rear of the group and start walking in their direction. It wouldn’t be long before they noticed them hiding in here. The man darted across the carpark, keeping his head down. Jackie followed him when she saw that he was heading for the pub doorway.

He pushed on the door, crying with relief when it opened. The man ushered her inside, followed Jackie, and shut the door behind him. He closed his eyes and sank to the floor. “Jesus, I think I need a drink.” The man then raised his head and stared at the girl. “I’m Gavin, by the way. Have you just got here? I don’t recall seeing you around here before.”

Jackie wandered over to the bar, thankful that the place was empty. She climbed onto the barstool and turned back round to face him. “I’ve been here in your fucking horrible town for months. The reason why you haven’t seen me around is because two of your delightful residents kidnapped me and my brother.”

She watched his face go through a variety of conflicting emotions; the man was clearly in pain. Jackie reached over pulled one of the vodka bottles off the shelf and then walked over to the man. He was seeing his own town getting pulled apart. Jackie suddenly stopped before she reached him. “Wait up, why isn’t all this freaky stuff affecting you? What makes you so different?”

He pulled the bottle out of her hands. “Isn’t it obvious?” The man took a swig. “I’m not a local, miss. I’m like you, from out of town. I’ve just been here a bit longer that’s all.” The man got to his feet and held out his hand. “I’m Gavin by the way. Under the circumstances, it’s probably best that I don’t say welcome to Brutality.” He held out the bottle.

Jackie took the bottle and took a swig herself before placing the bottle on the bar. “I should thank you for saving my life. Have you any idea what we do now?”

The toilet door then opened, and they both stared at the startled old man coming out. He ran for the door, trying to dodge the pair of them. The policeman grabbed the man’s collar and pulled him to the floor.

Jackie saw that the old man looked terrified. She dropped the bat on the floor, wanting to vomit at the thought of hitting anybody with that. Gavin had already placed the old man’s arms around his back, and the old man cried out.

“Gavin! Wait, oh god, I think you’re hurting him.”

The man nodded. “That’s the idea,” he replied. “He’s a local. He’s one of them.”

Jackie rushed over to them, watching in horror as the man started to fit. Gavin released him, stepping back as the old man jerked about on the floor.

“Do something!” she cried. When he didn’t move, Jackie kneeled beside him, trying to remember basic first aid. When she placed her hands on his chest, the man suddenly stopped moving. He opened his eyes and grinned. Jackie saw something move before crying out as he punched her in the face. She fell back, and the old man turned around; he grabbed the bat and swung it at Gavin.

The man dodged out of the way. Their visitor then threw the bat at the pair of them and ran out of the pub. Gavin grabbed Jackie’s hand. “We’d better make ourselves scarce.”

“Oh Christ, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

He shrugged. “Don’t be. Come on, I know where we can go.”

Chapter Seventeen

Tony McAllister pushed the chocolate bar into his mouth and ripped off another chunk. As he chewed the chocolate into soft mush, he gazed down at his black walkie-talkie lying beside him on the school bench. For the first time since the boss had handed it over, the fucking thing had stopped its chatter for more than a few minutes. Tony was so close to booting it across the pine floor. He stopped chewing when he reached the sweet syrup in the middle. That was fucking gross. Tony spat the mess onto the floor and threw the rest of the bar down as well. He decided that he didn’t like that one.

He leaned over, picked out a chewed up raisin from one of his cavities, and examined it. The last sweet to contain raisins was seven bars ago. Tony dropped it, watching the raisin fall into the middle of the mess between his feet. He never actually believed that he’d ever get sick and tired of eating chocolate bars. Tony grinned. He had never eaten eighteen one after the other before. Doing exactly what he wanted was just fucking brilliant. Tony knew that he’d reach saturation point eventually, but hopefully not for ages though. He looked at all the wet, brown mess stuck to the polished floor. It reminded him of the greasy, black sludge that he had noticed gathered around those burning people.

His whole life had been thrown into a tumble drier for the last few hours. Instead of coming out clean and fresh, Tony believed that he was the dirtiest, evilest motherfucker in Brutality. Well, the second most, anyway. The honour of most evil belonged to their boss. It was strange to think that until he had walked out of the nightclub, Tony believed that his life had gone to complete shit; nothing had been going his way for fucking weeks.

Tony was large for his age. At fifteen, he knew that he could pass for eighteen, easy. He was used to getting want he wanted. His formidable size and mean reputation ensured that nothing was denied Tony. The fear that he saw in people’s face as they passed him gave Tony such a hard on, and he was desperate for more.

Tonight, he took the next step. Tony decided to expand his territory and venture into the most popular nightclub in town. Common sense told him that he really should have started smaller, like trying for the local pub first. After all, this was adult territory, and they wouldn’t like him muscling in. As far as he was concerned, his common sense could go fuck itself. Tony McAlister did nothing by half measures.

The desire to bring this nightclub and the people to their knees just flew out of the window when he spotted that stunning blonde girl swanning around in that tiny fucking dress. He just knew that he had to have the bitch. Tony had already worked out what he would say to her; it was just the simple process of introducing himself. He had smiled, knowing that the piece of flesh already belonged to him, and he was going to spend the rest of this night fucking her senseless.

Tony dug his nails into the bench, taking deep breaths, and ordering himself to calm down. Even now, he couldn’t believe that the fat cunt Phil Banks had dared to square up to him. God, the shame still burnt. On his way over to the bar, heading over to his new woman, Phil had accidentally bumped into him. Looking back to the incident, it might have been a better idea if he had just swallowed his pride and apologised to the man for spilling his pint.

Phil was in many ways very much like Tony, the major difference being that Phil was a few years older, and he packed a bit more muscle, not to mention that Phil had a few more fights under his belt. Tony’s hormones wouldn’t let it lie, and he had made the mistake of telling Phil to mind where he was fucking going.

Looking back at the incident, Tony guessed that the employees must have marked him out as a potential trouble maker as soon as he stepped through the door. Four bouncers had grabbed the pair before any punches were thrown. It so annoyed Tony that he was the one that those cunts had decided to throw out and not Phil. What pissed him off more than anything was watching that girl—his girl—gravitate towards Phil.

Tony had put that big fat cunt right at the top of his list of cunts to fuck over before this night was over. He’d show him what happened to cunts that fucked with Tony. He took another chocolate bar out of his bulging pocket and started to unwrap it.

He stopped the delicate procedure of stripping off the package when he saw the far door open. This was what he had been waiting for. Tony so hoped that his followers hadn’t failed him. He nodded in approval when the three boys strutted into the school hall. His second in command, Zachary Bird, had found himself a rather tasty teenage girl. He watched in amusement as he gave the bitch’s left tit as hard squeeze when she started to drag her feet. By the look of hatred etched on her face, Tony guessed that Zack had been doing that little trick a lot.

He continued to follow their progress over to him; their prize obviously hadn’t got the message and wouldn’t stop attempting to struggle out of her captor’s hold. Her exertions were a waste of time as there was no way that the bitch would get free. She was the seventh unaffected cunt that his followers had brought to him now. They were getting very efficient at restraining them.

“Hello there, Natalie,” he said, smiling. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to be the one to sort you out. I was kinda hoping that none of the others had caught you.” It did seem to be a bit daft now to think that he had spent over a year lusting after this pathetic girl. He had thought he had been in with a chance, too. Despite being two years younger than her, he was still better looking than the mongrels she usually end up with. That had upset him; Tony was far better than anyone, and it so fucked him off that this bitch had ignored him for so long.

“Bring the bitch a little closer to me.” When his followers nodded and dragged Natalie over, he just had to suppress a smirk. God, he fucking loved being the Kingpin. Tony wrapped his thick fingers around her long brown hair and jerked her head back. His loins tingled when she cried out in pain. Oh, yeah, he so was going to enjoy doing this filthy little tart.

His time with the teacher, though it had been fun, just hadn’t lasted long enough. Andy had caused far too much damage with those knives. The dirty bitch had ended up dying before he had even had the chance to cum inside her. Now that all the excitement was slowing down, Tony supposed that it wouldn’t hurt to vent his lust out on this little bitch.

“Where’d you find her, Zack?”

The blond boy laughed. “Oh, this one was a right slippery maggot. We saw her slipping out of the nightclub. Can you believe that? What a genius place to hide out. Anyway, her luck disappeared when we saw her. It took us a good ten minutes to chase her down, but chase her down we did.

A terrible thought crept up the back of Tony’s head and lodged there, refusing to budge. “So, you were in the nightclub? I bet all the lads sniff around your little cunt. Now, tell me, bitch, do you know of Phil Banks?” He silently counted to three, patiently waiting for an answer, and when it became obvious that she wasn’t going to tell him jackshit, he back-handed her.

“Oh yeah, she does know the fat bastard,” muttered Zackary.

Tony slowly nodded, finished unwrapping the Mars bar, and bit off the end. This could complicate matters. “Zack, when you say that she knows the fat cunt, what do you mean? We all know him, Zack. Do you mean that he’s fucked her?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean, Tony. Our Danny has seen them together a couple of time at the club.” The boy leered at Natalie and licked his lips. “My brother said that they were practically eating each other. That bitch is well up for it.”

Just the gross image of that dirty fat cunt ramming his tiny dick into this pathetic bitch who was doing her best not to cry threw all thoughts of Tony shagging her right out of the window. This was just shit; Tony’s fire had cooled all right, but only with this one. What was the point of being king of the jungle if he couldn’t get a decent fuck? To make it even shittier, Tony suspected that they were running out of bitches as well.

He saw the woman jump when Tony’s walkie-talkie crackled into life. His swagger died along with what remained of his lust when he heard the tinny voice of the big boss demanding to know where he was. That fucker was the only person remaining on this planet who could make Tony felt like a little boy again.

Reluctantly, he hurried back to the bench and picked up the radio. He listened to the man ordering him and the others to drop everything and meet Daniel back at the factory. That did make him grin. If the boss was telling his group to go back, he must be asking the others to do the same. Something big was going down. The boss might even have caught Phil and wanted to use the fat cunt as kindling. Oh, he so hoped so. He’d have to ask Daniel if he could light the match. That would be fucking awesome.

Tony looked behind him and ground his teeth together in annoyance when he saw that the others had already decided to fuck her. Two of them were holding her down while Zackary was doing his best to remove her already ripped blouse. “For crying out loud!” he shouted. “We don’t have enough time for this. The boss wants us back, like right now!”

“How is that fair?” spat Zackary. “You did the teacher; why can’t we do one? After all, you made it clear that you didn’t want her.”

From the corner of his eye, he watched the girl punch the remaining boys. They weren’t ready for her to fight back. She wriggled out of their loosened hold and sped out of the hall.

“You stupid fucking, dozy-arsed retards!” he screamed. “Don’t just stand there gawping, go get after the bitch.” Tony jumped off the bench and ran over to Zackary. He placed his big hand around the boy’s throat and squeezed. “I think you can figure out that I’m not very happy with you at this moment.” He watched his face for a few seconds as the skin lost its colour before letting go. Tony slammed his hand into Zackary’s chest, watching the boy tumble back.

“I’m sorry,” he coughed. “Really I am. I didn’t know she was going to run off. I can sort this, I promise.”

Tony dug out one more chocolate bar, noticing that he’d emptied the left pocket. That was annoying; it looked like he was far from reaching saturation point. “Zack, buddy, have you any idea what the boss would do to you if I told him that you were dumb enough to let the bitch go?” At last, he saw fear in Zack’s eyes. Tony knew the boss probably didn’t give a fuck about the girl escaping; all he wanted was for everyone to go back to the factory. Tony wasn’t that bothered either. He’d already decided that he didn’t want to fuck her any more.

“Please don’t tell him, Tony.”

The simple fact of the matter was, his followers had been very slack, and for that the fuckers needed sorting out. It made sense; it’s what the boss would have done. “If she does get away, it’s you that he’ll punish, Zack.” Tony ran over to the doors and pulled them open. “He’ll probably eat your eyeballs, cut off your cock, and then set you on fire. Go on, then; you’d better get after the bitch.”

He waited for the panicked boy to stumble out of the door on the other side before he unwrapped his chocolate. He took a bite and tried not to giggle. Oh yes, he was definitely having fun tonight. Tony turned around and ran over to the other door on the far side of the hall. He pushed through the double doors and raced towards the school kitchens. Unlike those morons, he knew his school like the back of his hand, and he had a good idea where she’d be heading. Tony ran through the fire door and into the small kitchen. He kicked open the fire door and ran into the dark playground. There was only one route available to the girl, and he intended to get there before she did. Tony ran past the disused toilet block, smiling at the happy memories of organising dogfights in there last year.

The fire door to the biology labs was right in front of him. Tony got to his knees and pushed his fingers under the crack at the bottom; he counted to three and pulled. He grinned when the broken fire door silently swung open. The caretaker was supposed to have fixed this door ages ago. As far as anyone else was concerned, he had fixed it.

The caretaker had owed him a favour regarding unpaid dogfight bets. Tony had decided to let him off a couple of grand in return for him to leave this door how it was.

He entered the corridor and eased the door shut, grinning at the sound of the girl’s laboured breathing getting closer. The bitch was heading for the physics building in the new block. Everybody knew that the fence behind the building was a bit dodgy.

Tony flattened his back against the wall, doing his best to keep quiet. This was going to be so cool! As soon as Natalie raced around the corner, he lunged out and grabbed the side of her head and then slammed it into the wall. He looked up and giggled at their shocked faces as his followers raced into the corridor.

“You’re all fucking useless,” he said. Tony frowned as Zackary kneeled beside Natalie and placed his hand against the side of her neck.

“Oh no, she’s fucking dead now,” he muttered, glaring up at Tony.

He couldn’t believe this. The soppy bastard had tears in his eyes. “Jesus, man, what is it with you? Zack, we were going to kill her anyhow. Why the sentiment?”

The boy jumped up and ran up to Tony. “I wanted to fuck her, Tony, that’s why.”

Tony pushed him back, “For fuck’s sake, man. Daniel is waiting for us. Are you really that lacking of brains, or are you now thinking with your bollocks. Come on, for fuck’s sake. There are still tons of girls out in town. We’ll find you another one, I promise.” He grabbed Zackary and pushed him out of the door. “Look, I’ll tell you what; we can always come back here once we find out what Daniel wants.”

The other boy shook his head in confusion. “I don’t understand. Why?”

Tony laughed. “It takes a while for a body to cool down, that’s why. Did you not pay attention in biology?”

Chapter Eighteen

Phil had kept his temper in check and finished off counting to thirty. It was fucking obvious that whatever was waiting in the darkness wasn’t going to leap out and attack him after all. He slid his knife back into his belt, feeling a little miserable. Phil had been so looking forward to venting his frustration on whatever had been lurking around at the bottom of this shaft.

The sound of splashing water grew fainter. “Yeah, that’s right,” he shouted. “You go run off that way, and you’ll live another day!” Unless he was just a look-out or a scout, those fuckers wouldn’t tackle an enemy; they’d go get reinforcements. Phil shrugged, so what if they did? There wasn’t much he could do about it.

For the first time since he felt Daniel’s artificial rapture wearing off, Phil started to ask himself the simple question of just what he intended to do now that he had got away from that bunch of losers. It felt a little bizarre to know that everyone that he’d ever known now wanted him dead. He then smiled at that thought. Phil found that he liked the fact that he was now a wanted man, an outlaw. His first proposal was to turn the tables and go after them one by one. Hunt them down, make them hate and fear him. Now that would be pretty awesome.

“Like you’d last the night,” he sighed. Phil couldn’t fault his own common sense. They would catch him eventually, there were just too many of them, and Phil had no plans to let them set him on fire.

He couldn’t leave the only town that he knew. There was nothing for him outside of Brutality. Phil couldn’t be the only one left in town who wasn’t too keen on blindly following that wanker’s commands. Granted, Phil guessed that he was probably the only one strong enough to break out of Daniel’s grasp, but there could still be pockets of locals who hadn’t tasted the smoke.

Daniel had burnt dozens of bodies, but he couldn’t have reached everyone. It made sense that he should try to find them before the idiots above ground got to them first. “You’re really going to locate them down here, you arse.”

Phil would do just that as soon as he got out of here. He looked up at where he thought the cover was and wondered if he should take a chance at going back the way he came. He chucked the idea away. That bastard and his poodles weren’t going to stop looking for him. No, he needed to find another route to the surface. He looked to his left and then to his right. Both directions led into impenetrable darkness. “Like it makes much difference which way I go.” Phil chose the left, mainly because he thought that was where the splashing went.

Daniel had told his core group that once all the town’s outsiders were no longer a problem, he would feed their craving by bringing more people into the town. Even back then, Phil’s cynicism had thought that idea was bollocks. Brutality was placed in the middle of nowhere, away from any main roads. Visitors were rare. Phil had also heard from the copper, Andy, that Daniel wanted to march the townsfolk into the next town. That slimy bastard had his own agenda, and Phil believed that the only person to win from this fuck up would be Daniel.

The bastard had to go; there was no other option. Just who gave him the right to waltz into his town and fuck everything up? He skidded to a halt. Wait on; Daniel wasn’t even a local! Oh fuck, how come nobody had picked up on that? Oh, this was just fucking fantastic. His days were numbered, and with that clown out of the way, the town should go back to how it was before, to how it should be. Phil splashed through the dark tunnel, grinning. It was a good plan.

As Phil traversed further along the tunnel, he believed that his eyes must have started to adapt to the darkness. He could actually see the back of his hand. Phil then noticed what appeared to be tiny crystals embedded into the rock beside him; they were giving out tiny pinpricks of light. It reminded him of looking up at the night sky. “Okay, so that’s a bit fucking weird,” he muttered.

The light was getting brighter, though, and he knew that these crystals not only contributed to the brightness, they were responsible. The tunnel then opened out into a huge cavern. Phil looked up and saw what appeared to be natural light filtering in from the top. “What the fuck is that?” Phil gazed in wonder at the bright light. “This is bollocks, it’s dark outside.”

Phil tore his eyes away from the light and looked ahead, wondering if he was dreaming. A multitude of grey stone buildings spread out before him, stretching as far as he could see. This place was huge. He didn’t understand any of this. How the fuck could there be another town under the ground? He’d stumbled upon the home of one of the first families, he must have, but they didn’t live in towns, they were just fucking animals.

The town wasn’t empty. He noticed movement inside a few of those glassless buildings. He watched as a dozen grey emaciated naked people emerged from the buildings and tentatively walk towards him. More of them followed. It didn’t escape his attention that a few of the people carried hefty looking clubs Phil reached around and wrapped his fingers around the knife handle. If these jokers wanted a fight then he’d give them what they wanted.

As they people got closer, he saw that those clubs were actually human bones. They were cannibals. Oh, this was just fucking brilliant. He should have gone the other way or at least tried getting back into the factory.

A young girl pushed her way through the gathered crowd. She too was naked. Phil then noticed that just like Lisa, the girl had sewn several pieces of human body parts into her skin. He doubted that it was a coincidence.

Phil kept as still as a statue as the little girl got down on all four and crawled over to him. She slowly got back on her feet and walked around him, sniffing at his body; she was acting just like a fucking dog. He knew he could have his knife in his hand within seconds if she did try anything like trying to bite him or something. He didn’t care what the others did to him; there was no way that he would let this brat cut off any part of his body. Before he could decide whether he should slit her throat, she spun around and ran back to one of the men holding a club. She whispered something into his ear before slipping back into the crowd.

Should he try to communicate with these dirty savages? He wasn’t scared of dying, but he’d rather stay living. He watched as they all abruptly turned around and dispersed, leaving Phil more confused than ever. He noticed that they all hadn’t gone, one man stayed behind, and like Phil, he wore clothes. Unlike him, the stranger’s clothes were just filthy rags; he looked like he spent his life begging for money in the town centre. He had no idea how old he was. HE placed the stranger’s age from anywhere between thirty and sixty.

The stranger turned and watched some of the others disappear into the buildings before turning back around and nodding at Phil. He walked a little bit closer to him. “I hope you weren’t thinking of using that on me, were you, friend?”

Phil sighed heavily; he slid the knife back into his jeans and attempted to give the man a friendly smile. If the clown did try something, he was confident that he’d still be able to take him with a weapon; he didn’t look that dangerous. “So, who the fuck are you supposed to be? Seriously, you look like Robinson fucking Crusoe.”

“What is your deviation, friend?”

“My what?”

The stranger pointed at Phil’s chest. “You are town born. You must have a deviation. All in the town are damned, friend, some more than others. Even so, compared to these abominations, we play the game, pretending to be normal while hiding away our dirty secrets. At least, we were until he came back and altered the rules.”

Phil reached for his knife. “I won’t fucking tell you again, friend.”

The man rested his thin hand over Phil’s arm. “Please don’t do that. They are watching you. If you take your little pointy thing out of your belt one more time, they will chop and dice you. The only reason why you still breathe is because the chief’s daughter thought you looked really funny.” The man wrapped his fingers around his wrist. “You had better follow me. Your presence is making them nervous.”

Phil allowed this freaky bastard to lead him through the collection of rough stone buildings. He stared at the faces watching him through the windows, suppressing the urge to stick his tongue out at the skinny fuckers. The freaky bastard was taking him closer to the largest structure down here, a stone circle composed of dark stone pillars. Unlike the rest of this weird Fred Flintstone toy town, this structure looked well crafted. He doubted that any of these brain-dead cavemen could have built it.

As they got closer, Phil saw that right in the middle there was a man tied to the thick wooden pole; at least, he thought it was a man.

“Impressive, isn’t he? The creature belongs to the other tribe. He’s part of the first family.”

Phil shook his hands off the freaky bastard and approached the stones, running his hands down the surface.

“Please don’t enter the circle, friend. I won’t be able to guarantee your safety if you cross the threshold. They don’t approve of people like us interfering.”

“Oh, this is just fucking surreal. I mean, they told us about the families during the conversion, but I didn’t actually believe that they were subhuman. Is that what it is?” As the creature leaned to the left, Phil then saw numerous strips of flesh missing from the side of his body. Fuck, the bastards were peeling him like a fucking orange. Phil stumbled back when the creature opened his eyes and stared at him. He stared back, gazing into those big, beautiful amber eyes, seeing a mixture of fear, sorrow, and pain. For the first time in his life, Phil actually felt empathy for another creature. He knew that he had to stop this madness, those bastards were eating him alive. He had to stop it right now.

Before he could step into the circle, the other man grabbed his shoulders and wrenched him back. “Don’t even think about helping him,” he hissed.

Phil shook his head, feeling like he had just been drugged. “What the fuck just happened to me?”

“They have the ability to strip out your deviation, friend.”

“I wanted to help him.”

“Yes,” he nodded. “As soon as you got a little closer, it would have ripped you into pieces.”

“It’s a meat eater?”

“Of course, creatures do not have elongated canines to eat grass, not that there is grass down here.” He laid his hands on Phil’s shoulders. “I wanted you to feel one emotion that the powers don’t allow us locals to feel. Now come on, we need to get out of here!” He pulled him away from the circle and threw Phil against a stone wall. “Get over it and duck down. Move it, friend.”

Phil obeyed the freaky bastard, shocked at the man’s strength and trying to work out how he felt after looking into the thing’s eyes. As stupid as it sounded, Phil wanted to go back and gaze into those hypnotic eyes one more time. There was no chance of that happening, for the other man was right behind him as Phil scrambled over the wall.

He turned and peered over, staring in disbelief at the sight of more of those sub-human things running through the middle of the town, each one carrying a weapon.

“What the fuck is going on?”

The other man smiled at him. “Welcome to the real world, friend. Your games above ground are just a pale imitation of the true source. The creatures are constantly killing, torturing, and eating each other. The game plays in an endless cycle. That is a first family raiding party, friend. I suggest that you sit back down. Unlike the others, they won’t ignore you—or me, for that matter.”

Phil watched them all file past the stone circle, ignoring their injured comrade as if he didn’t exist, before he sat back down. “What is your deviation, friend?”

Phil glared at the freaky bastard. “What the fuck are you talking about; why do you keep asking me that?”

The man chuckled. “Oh, good grief, you really have no idea who I am. That is really funny.” He then grabbed Phil’s wrist again, this time the touch was not so gentle. “Tell me your fucking deviation, you jumped up cunt, or I’ll break your fucking arm.”

Phil bit down hard, trying not to scream out. Oh fuck, the pain was so intense. This clown was a lot stronger than he looked. There was something else as well; that voice had sounded so familiar when the freaky bastard added a bit of aggression to it. Oh bollocks, he did know that voice.

“Has the cat got your tongue, boy?”

“I like to hurt things,” he said through his clenched teeth.

The man released him. “Yeah, I thought it would be something like that. You never were the gentle type, Phil.” The man looked at him and grinned. “I remember thinking that when I interviewed you for the job.”

Phil did a double take. He leaned closer, not believing this. Oh yeah, he could see it now, take away the mass of long white hair and add more than a few pounds and he’d be looking at the ex-director of the meat factory. “Alistair? Alistair Harris? Jesus, man. What happened? You were such a big fat cunt.”

Alistair giggled. “My, you really haven’t lost your eloquent use of the English language, boy. Look around you, how many hotdog stands and cake stalls can you see? Okay, you enjoy inflicting pain. That will explain why Daniel’s power wore off so quickly.”

“Yeah, thank you, Einstein, I’ve already figured that bit out.”

“Good for you, so what? You’re going to find others like you and kick Daniel’s arse?”

Phil nodded. “That’s the general plan.”

“There are no more like you, Phil. Well, except me, and they won’t let me leave.” Alistair got to his knees and peered over the wall. “Oh, that’s a shame, they have the little girl.”

Phil jumped up and watched the subhuman drag the girl through the camp. “I don’t get it, why the fuck aren’t the others stopping them?”

“They have to play by the rules, Phil. Nobody can break the natural order, just as you couldn’t stop torturing kittens when you were a kid. Nobody, that is, except Daniel. You need to stop him.”

“What, by myself?”

The man shook his head. “No, there are still some townsfolk not born here in town. Daniel hasn’t caught them all, but he is close.”

He yanked Phil up and led him through the town towards a huge set of stairs. “Even if they did allow me to leave, as soon as I reached the surface I’d be affected. Hurry, Phil. Sort this mess out. My brother is waiting for me in my cellar; he’ll be all dry now and beginning to smell. He needs me to look after him.”

Chapter Nineteen

It felt like an age had passed instead of just five minutes. Dave slid his phone back into his pocket and peeled his ear off the door. Nothing beyond this storeroom stirred, and he began to wonder if he had heard anything at all now. It still didn’t give Dave the assurance to prove his theory and actually check.

He turned and slid down the door, stretched out his feet, and rested the back of his head against the wood.

“It might not have been someone looking for us, you know.” Amber passed him a tin of corned beef. “That’ll be easy enough to open; the key’s on the side. We don’t know where we are, Dave. This could be somebody’s pantry, and all we heard was one of the residents getting up to go to the toilet.”

Dave had considered that idea as well.

“Although, I’m probably wrong on that score. Most of the tins in here are out of date. That corned beef ran out two months ago. Sorry, it’s the only one I could find to open; none of the others are ring pull. This place hasn’t been used in years”

“You could have used the sword, Amber.”

She chuckled. “Give over; you prised that out of a dead man’s hand. It’s not exactly clean, is it?”

“Are you for real, Amber?” he asked, smiling at her. “After all the blood, muck, and shit that we’ve had on us tonight, do you think it’ll make that much difference?”

She placed her hand oh Dave’s thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I am so tired of this, baby. I’m so tempted to just lie down on your lap and go to sleep. This is the first time since this nightmare started that I have felt reasonably safe.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. Not yet.”

Dave opened the can, dug his fingers into the tin, and filled his mouth with the cold meat. He didn’t care how out of the date it was, he hadn’t tasted anything so delicious in his life.

He silently agreed with Amber, Nobody had been in here for a long time. Dave only saw his and Amber’s footprints on the dust-covered floor. “This town is a maze of secrets.”

“I don’t give a shit what it is,” she muttered. “I just want to leave.”

“I’m sure the worst is over, baby. We’ll be out of here before you know it.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost five.” That had come as a bit of a shock to him. They had been travelling under the town for almost four hours. They didn’t have long to wait before dawn.

He so ached to see the sun again. There had been countless occasions, running, crawling, and hiding down there when he believed that he’d die without feeling its comforting warmth on his face. Dave sighed, and then placed the now empty can on the shelf beside him.

His desire must have been just an emotional response for it made little practical sense. Dave somehow doubted that the presence of daybreak would dissuade the locals from chasing them down. Brutality had shred its thin skin of lies; there’d be no going back now. The presence of daylight would make their life so much harder to hide from their pursuers.

“Dave, I think we had better get a move on.” She looked up at the food on the shelves. “If we don’t go now, I’ll not want to leave here.”

He silently nodded. She’d already explained that she had to find out if her father was still alive, and that maybe the tramp had got it all wrong about the fires and nearly every outsider was now dead. He could see why Amber had doubts; after all, they had survived, so far.

He leaned across and gave her a gentle kiss. “I’m ready when you are, baby.” His practical side had already told Dave that the chances of her father still being alive was slim to none, and even if he were alive, the man would be hiding just like they were and certainly wouldn’t still be at home, drinking tea and watching telly. They needed to get the hell out of this hell, and not waste time looking for anyone else. The longer they stayed in Brutality their chances only increased that some of those freaks would find them.

If he had been in Amber’s position, though, he would have wanted to do exactly the same.

Amber choked back a sob. “I know what you’re thinking, sweetheart, and yeah, I do know that this might be a waste of time. I would understand if you chose to stay here. I mean, you’ve only known me for a few hours, I’m still a stranger to you.”

“Don’t say stuff like that, Amber!” he hissed. “Of course I won’t leave you, and I don’t think we are strangers, not anymore. I love you, Amber. It’s that simple.” Dave kissed her again, not wanting to let her go. “You have got me forever now, sweetheart. Where you go, I go. Look, we’ve just been chased by a bunch of giant meat-eating monkeys and crept through a tribe of sleeping cannibals. These jokers in town are nothing compared to those.”

He got to his feet and helped Amber up. “Let them try to fuck us over,” he growled. “I’ll ventilate the bastards”

He stuck his head against the door, just to be sure. There was still no sound. At least that was good news. Dave grabbed the handle, pulled it down, and poked his head through the gap.

Dave had not expected to recognise their new location. “You have got to be shitting me,” he murmured, stepping out into the corridor. He held the door open for Amber while looking from left to right.

“Where are we?”

It had been years since he was last in here. “This used to be our favourite place to eat until it closed down a few years ago. It used to be the only shop in Brutality where you could grab yourself a half-decent sandwich during your work break. To be honest, I had forgotten all about the shop.” Harsh white street lighting streamed in through cracks in the wooden board nailed across the windows. It didn’t give them much light but enough for him to work out that they weren’t the only occupants in the abandoned shop.

Three pale faces stared at them from behind the counter, and now that they’d been seen, all three stood up; the boy on the side of the big kid in the middle placed his hand over his mouth and giggled.

“I told you, Tony. Didn’t I say that they were hiding in here?”

The boy in the middle nodded. Dave knew this one all right; he was at the club earlier. In fact, he knew all three of the thugs. The whole town knew of Tony McAllister, Zachary Bird, and Danny Harlan. These schoolboy bullies ran riot around the centre every Saturday night. He tried to quiet his beating heart, for just the thought of what these three evil bastards wanted to do to them now that the restraints were gone made him wish that he was still in those tunnels. “Aren’t you up past your bedtimes?” he said. “Tell you what, if you fuck off right now, I won’t tell your mums.”

“You’re funny. No really, you’re fucking hilarious.” The large boy pushed the companion on his left in the shoulder. “Don’t just stand there, you fucking moron, bring me that girl.” Tony licked his lips. “You ain’t as pretty as your blonde mate, but you’re better than nothing.”

“He’s got a sword!”

Dave grabbed Amber and backed away, keeping the sword held out in front of him. “Well spotted, dickhead. Now, unless you want to see your insides, outside, I suggest you leave us alone.”

“He suggests,” laughed Zachary. “Ain’t that so polite.”

Tony pushed Danny out from behind the counter. “Go on, you cowardly fucker. He ain’t going to do anything.”

Danny smirked. “I might not even hurt you if you give me your sword, fuckface.” He then snatched up a tin of beans off the glass counter and threw it at Dave before charging him.

Dave jerked to the side and the tin flew past his head, He screamed and lifted the sword, watching the arrogant boy run at him. This bastard wasn’t going to stop; the arrogant boy really did believe that Dave wouldn’t have the nerve to use it. Rage boiled away his rationality, and he wildly swung the blade, gasping in shock as the tip of the sword sliced through the boy’s throat. It opened up like a burst pipe, spraying him with thick warm blood. The body dropped to the floor, landing on Dave’s feet. The blood continued to piss out, mixing with the dust.

“Tony, oh fuck,” gasped Zachary. “It isn’t supposed to happen like that.” The boy glared at Dave. “You’re not supposed to kill him, you fucker!”

Dave slowly looked up and found to his utter astonishment that the other boy was grinning at him.

“Yeah, I did kinda notice that the poor cunt has bought it,” Tony replied. The boy gave a noncommittal shrug. “So what of it? He was beginning to get right on my tits anyway. Besides, with him out of the way, it makes my plan a bit easier.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a large pistol. He giggled. “Look what Daniel had given me.” He pointed the weapon at Dave. “Oh, it’s real.”

Dave squeezed Amber’s hand, kept his eyes fixed on that very large barrel, and slid his feet out from under the body. The cocky little bastard wasn’t even looking at him. He took a step backwards; the door was only a few steps away. Dave wasn’t going to stay here, that bastard was going to kill him.

“Who the fuck said you could move?”

Dave stopped. He got ready to throw the sword at Tony; it would do a lot more damage than a tin of beans.

“Listen to me, Zack; put away your whinging voice. It’s simple. We both know that it was Danny who let the bitch fucking run off. I only came down hard on you cos you’re my second-in-command. Look at this bitch. She’s just as tasty. We can share her; I don’t mind a spit-roast.” Tony chuckled. “Come on, Danny would go fucking mental, he had to die.”

Dave pushed Amber towards the door; he knew he was going to die but didn’t care anymore, as long as she managed to get away. He braced himself, waiting for the fatal shot when the door slammed open. The gun in the boy’s hand bucked, it sounded like a bomb going off. Dave screamed out, astonished to find he was still alive. He dropped to the floor, taking Amber down with him. Just as a large object flew through the open door, the boy fired again. Dave looked at the large rucksack lying in front of the counter and crawled back; he had no idea what was going on, he just didn’t want Tony to remember that he was about to shoot him.

He stopped and stared in disbelief as a large man charged into the shop holding another rucksack against his chest. He threw the package hard at Tony and dived on the lad, wrestling the gun out of his hand. When Tony lifted his head, the man head butted him down.

“Stay there, you little shit!” screamed the man.

Dave didn’t believe it; he knew that voice. It was Phil.

The man swung around, glared at Zack, and then fired. The back of his head splattered against the wall. He turned, aimed at Tony, and pulled the trigger. The man looked so upset when the gun failed the fire.

“That’s a bit shit,” he muttered. Phil booted the boy in the head then leaped over the counter. “Fuck me,” he said, grinning at Dave. “How did you two losers manage to stay alive?” He held up his hand. “Don’t bother answering that, I couldn’t really give a shit. Have you seen anyone else?”

“Why the hell should we tell you anything, you bastard?”

Phil glared at Amber. “Cos if you don’t, I’ll pull off your tits.”

“We haven’t seen anybody, Phil. We’re about to check out Amber’s house.” Dave sighed. “He saved our lives, honey.”

Phil laughed. “Oh, please, look at you two lovebirds, where’s the fucking vomit bucket? Well, don’t just fucking stand there. Lead the way before any more of the town’s fucktards show up.” He threw the gun over his shoulder. Phil pushed them out of the door. “Fuck, what part of ‘move your arse’ did you two not understand?”

Dave didn’t quite know how to feel. He looked back at the last few hours that he’d spent with Amber, being on the verge of facing death at every turn. He knew that he had changed; this beautiful woman hurrying along the road beside him had changed as well. Phil hadn’t changed though; he was still the same as he’d always been. Dave thought back to Max’s tale about the locals being unable to change and saw that now.

“Fuck,” Dave said, lurching to a stop. He turned around and watched Phil glare at him. “What are you playing at you big, stupid clown? You’re one of them, you lot have been trying to kill us all fucking night!”

He expected the big lad to lose it, to pull out a knife, stab him or at least growl, and throw a punch. Instead, he just burst out laughing.

“In all the years I’ve known you, Dave, that’s the first time that I’ve seen you lose your temper. You ought to do it more often, it’s fucking hilarious.” He turned to Amber. “Tell me we’re close to your gaff; my legs are fucking killing me.”

Amber shook her head. “No, we’re just about here.” She led Dave over to the small terraced house. “I had a feeling that I might be taking you home, Dave.” She kissed him. “Just not like this.”

He pushed open the gate. “Look, do you want me to go inside, sweetheart?”

She shook her head, pushed past Dave, and ran over to the front door. He followed her inside, listening to Phil sighing behind them. He just couldn’t work out what his game was, if he had one at all.

Phil caught his breath. “Fuck,” he whispered. The man grabbed the back of Dave’s shoulders and wrenched him back. He tried to scream out to Amber to warn her, but the lad clamped his hand over Dave’s mouth.

“Don’t even fucking dare!” he hissed. Phil pushed him to the floor and lunged forward.

Dave watched Phil push past Amber and race over to the stairs. What the fuck was he playing at? He was already at the top of the stairs before Amber had a chance to pick Dave off the floor.

“Can’t you smell it?” Amber cried. “Oh, my God, it’s Lisa. I’d recognise her perfume anywhere. That bitch is in my house!”

Amber raced after Phil with Dave right behind her. He could smell the scent now. He almost felt bad about believing that Phil was about to murder the pair of them as soon as he stepped foot over the door—almost, but not quite. Amber ran through the door opposite. For all he knew, they could be walking into a set-up. Maybe the outsiders were the prize, and the locals were killing each other to bag the last ones. Oh fuck, yeah, that made sense. Dave wildly looked around, desperate to find some sort of weapon. A brief scream coming from the bedroom cut short his attempt to find anything. Dave ran forward.

“I thought you’d be behind them, Dave,” said Lisa, grinning. “You fucking little coward.”

The girl held a loaded crossbow in her hand, and Dave saw her wave it from side to side. Amber wasn’t looking at any of them. His stomach knotted up at the sight of a small man spread out against the wardrobe door, covered in sticky blood. Dave saw the man’s throat cut open. He couldn’t fall to the floor because two nails driven through his hands and into the wood held him upright. He knew without asking that Amber was looking at her father.

“I see you’re admiring my new sculpture. This is Amber. I never really liked your dad. The pervy bastard wouldn’t stop staring at my tits. At one time, I even saw him lick his lips and wink.”

Amber shivered but didn’t turn.

“Hey there, lover boy! Ain’t I the lucky girl? I didn’t think I’d find you with these two fuckheads.” She giggled. “Daniel is coming, by the way. He’s so eager to get his hands on you.” She edged over to the corpse. “I think he wants to burn you, Phil. I do like that idea, but I want to nail you first.” She laughed again. “Oh, that’s good, how ironic, considering it’s you who wanted to nail me.”

Amber caught her breath and backed away. Dave’s eyes widened as the corpse beside Lisa raised its head and looked at its hand. The corpse pulled the hand free, and the nail stayed in place. Amber released a quiet gasp and rushed towards the bedside cabinet. Phil got there before her. He threw the hammer onto the bed, pulled back his fist, and punched her.

She flew back, landing at the corpse’s feet. Dave saw that it now had freed both its arms. It bent over and grabbed the girl, lifting her up. Lisa turned to Phil.

“Get this fucking thing off me!”

The corpse dragged her over to the window.

“No, please,” she cried, as it lifted her up. “Put me down!”

Dave watched it press her body against the glass; the window shattered, and it threw her out. It turned around and staggered forward. Phil grabbed the hammer.

“No,” shouted Amber. “Don’t you fucking dare, that’s my dad!”

As Dave watched, the wound on the corpse’s neck knitted together, it raised its head, and looked at him.

“Hello again, Dave.”

“Dad?”

“I’m sorry, honey, your father’s spirit had left this body.” He winked at Dave. “I did tell you that I’d get back to you.”

Chapter Twenty

Jackie raced out in front of Gavin, her rapid footsteps just eating the metres as they sped along the middle of the road. She had explained to Gavin how she and her brother had entered the town all those weeks ago and theorised that there was a very good chance that the locals hadn’t blocked it. It seemed like a reasonable assumption, but it did help that since leaving the pub they hadn’t spotted a single local. Gavin had no idea where they were and didn’t really care as long as they stayed away.

“We’re almost there,” she whispered, turning around.

He caught Jackie up and pulled her to the side of the road. “Wait,” he whispered. Gavin’s eyes had caught sight of movement in the undergrowth to the left of them. He hoped it was just an animal, but he dare not take any chances. He pulled Jackie down to the ground, watching the top of someone’s head appear over the top of a patch of small trees. He looked at Jackie. “They’ve got this covered as well. Wait here.”

Gavin scrambled along the side of the road, staying low and against the bushes. Just as he suspected, the locals had blocked off this road as well, with a couple of cars. He counted five men, all armed, leaning against the two vehicles and no way around them.

He retreated, not too sure what to do now. Gavin crouched down beside the girl.

“You don’t need to say a word,” she hissed. “I can tell by the look on your face.” She looked behind her. “Okay, we find somewhere safe and wait until daylight?”

Gavin nodded and allowed the girl to take them back the way they came. It felt as though the locals had beaten them. He wasn’t altogether happy with his decision to let the girl take them back. He knew, deep down, that given time, they could have got past those men. Gavin looked behind him, feeling as if he was being somehow manipulated.

“Come on,” she hissed. “I know where to go.”

He shrugged to himself and buried that ridiculous notion. There was nobody trying to make him stay in Brutality; the whole idea was just fucking ridiculous. “Where are we going?”

The girl didn’t answer; she just increased her pace then slipped over a stone wall. “I know where we can stay, Gavin,” she whispered, when he peered over the wall. She helped him over. “Look over there.”

He followed her pointing finger and saw a row of four stone terraced houses standing opposite a field. Gavin knew exactly where they were. Jackie had described the women’s house already. Jackie had led them back to her kidnappers’ house. If she had escaped any other day and wandered into the station, accusing the two women of kidnapping her, Gavin would have had a hard time believing her story. That was in the past, though, before the wool was well and truly ripped from his eyes.

“What the hell are we doing back here?” Gavin didn’t need her to answer that one; her set features had already told him the answer.

“It’s simple. We run inside, chain the bitches up, get what info we can from them, and wait for the sun to come up.”

The girl was serious about this idea. Gavin didn’t see anything in her eyes but hatred. She just wanted to make those two women pay for the torment and the suffering that they caused to Jackie and her brother. He didn’t blame her; if Gavin was in that position, he’d want to do the same. “Look, it’s not long before dawn, Jackie. It will be safer to just find an empty garage or something. Look, we don’t know if they’re even in there or if they have company.”

She turned away. “What’s wrong with you? This could be our only chance of finding out just what the fuck is happening here!” Jackie glared at him. “I want to know why those evil fucks killed my brother!”

Gavin ducked and pulled her down when the front door slowly opened. One of the old women peered around. Had she heard the girl shooting off her mouth? He got ready to run, just in case she started screaming out. The woman left the house and wandered over to a large rose bush in the middle of the lawn. “What is she doing?”

“Ada’s doing a bit of gardening.”

He just looked at the girl. “You made that sound like gardening in the middle of the night is normal.”

She shrugged. “It is for her.” Jackie sighed. “Yeah, you’re right, Gavin, we could find somewhere else to hole up, and we might even get out of here. Thing is, if we can get those two old bags to talk, we might find a way to stop more innocent people dying. Isn’t that what a copper is supposed to do?”

Gavin didn’t believe he was hearing this! Jackie had the balls to try and change his mind with the oldest and crudest psychobabble technique in the book. She was right though.

He stood up and ran across the street, not caring if the old woman heard him. She spun around, her astonished eyes finding his, and they widened even more when the old woman caught sight of Jackie. Gavin slammed his hand over her mouth, spun her around, and pulled the woman tight into his chest; he snatched the snips out of her fingers. “Calm down, lady, and stop struggling.” He pushed the snips against the side of her neck. “Don’t make me kill you.”

“Stab the bitch,” growled Jackie.

Gavin ignored her and leaned closer to the woman. “She doesn’t like you very much, old woman. Are you going to be a good girl, or do I give you to Jackie?” He sensed the fight leave the woman. Gavin pushed her over to the door. “Who’s in the house?”

Ada sobbed. “There’s just me and Betsy, I swear! Please don’t hurt me.”

“The only reason why I haven’t jumped on your head, you old bitch, is cos you let me go,” Jackie snarled.

He pushed the old woman through the door, tensing himself. From what Jackie told him, it was the other woman who would be the problem. Gavin looked around the kitchen, nodding with relief when he saw the inner door closed, “Is the other one in there?” he whispered.

Ada nodded. “It would be best if you just left; she won’t be very happy with you coming here.”

Gavin slid a knife out of the wooden block, placed the snips on the counter, and pushed the woman over to the door. “Just don’t get any funny ideas.”

The old woman let out a tiny whimper. He turned around and stared at Jackie. “That means you as well. There’s been enough killing tonight.” Gavin braced himself, opened the door, and pushed her through while lightly pressing the blade into Ada’s back. He was confident that the nasty bitch wouldn’t do anything stupid. She might be the dominant one in this weird fucking relationship, but Gavin was convinced that despite her the evil streak running through her body, she wouldn’t want to see him kill her only friend.

The other woman was sat in her chair, gazing at the television. Alarm bells rang when she glanced at them framed in the doorway before she turned her attention back to the television. She leaned her head back and smiled.

“I did have a feeling that you’d make your way back here, little missy. I see you’ve brought a friend as well.”

The girl pushed her way into the living room and marched up to the old woman. “How can you just sit there acting so calm? Come on, show us your true colours; you’re supposed to rage at us.”

The old woman laughed out loud. “Oh, you poor child. You look like you have been through hell tonight.” She grinned. “Of course, if it hadn’t been for me conditioning you, I suspect you wouldn’t have lasted more than five minutes out there. Hmm, I don’t hear you thanking me.”

Gavin pushed the old woman into her chair and pulled the sobbing girl away from her before she did something really stupid.

“No, child, I’m not going to rage at you, unless you want me to. I can if you want, I mean, if you’re missing it. See the favour as a last request.”

Jackie shook off Gavin’s grip and hurried around the back of the two chairs. He watched her bend over and grab the chains. The thought of what these two deranged women had done to the girl made him go cold. The girl fully intended to make them pay; Jackie wanted to put them through what they did to her. “Sweetheart, no, there’s no need to chain them up. They’re not going anywhere.”

Betsy got onto her knees and looked over the back of her chair. “Oh, you’d so like to do that, child. I can see the hatred blazing behind your pretty little eyes. But the man is right; we’re not going anywhere. Why should we? Ada and I like it here. Oddly enough, I think that we’ll be the only ones left in town when Daniel takes the others with him.” She sat back down and sighed. “Look at their faces, Ada, they have no idea what is really happening.”

Gavin gazed in confusion at the two woman. They didn’t seem the least bit bothered that he and Jackie had forced their way into the house. Ada just sat there, watching the newsreader announce some new war erupting. Jackie walked up to him and grabbed his hand.

“They weren’t like this before, I swear.” She looked at the TV then stared at Gavin. “Oh fuck, this isn’t one of their videos.”

Betsy laughed. “Oh no, this is live, it’s happening right now. Thanks to Daniel, the whole world is becoming just like our town. We’ll no longer be freaks.”

“I don’t understand any of this,” he muttered.

“Of course you don’t, you silly man. This town and the people who dwell here, under and above ground, exist only to keep you in check. We are both the apple and the snake. Without us following our pre-programmed lives, you will all revert to the template. You’ll become homicidal savages. Don’t believe me? Watch yourselves destroy each other.”

Gavin turned away from her shining eyes and watched in disbelief as the grim-faced newsreader announced tragedy after tragedy happening across the globe. Gavin turned away from the horrific scene of a huge bomb blast in Paris and looked back at the old woman.

“You came here looking for answers, Mr Policeman. Brutality was the last town of its kind. We were holding back humanity’s evil. It’s going to get a lot worse. Just you wait until the ones beneath our feet make their way above ground.” She looked over to the window. “And speak of the devil,” Betsy chuckled. “I’m so going to enjoy this.”

He saw a dark shape run past the window then followed by another. Gavin pulled Jackie away from the two women, “We should have stayed outside, Jackie. That mad old bitch has told the other townsfolk.”

Ada shook her head. “No, it isn’t them. I’m so sorry. Betsy told me to go outside. Child, please forgive me.”

Gavin jumped back when he saw what looked like a huge apelike face pressed up against the glass. “Oh fuck, please not those things.” He pulled the whimpering girl away from the window. He spotted another door on the far side of the living room and ran over to it, praying that those things didn’t have the intelligence to work out how to open a door. He gasped at the sound of a window breaking that came from the kitchen. Those fuckers were already in the house. Over the sound of Betsy’s giggling, he heard the sound of large feet padding across the kitchen tiles.

Gavin spun around, looked out of the rear window, and saw another three of them in the garden. “My God!” he gasped. “These things are even bigger.”

“What do we do?”

“Up the stairs, Jackie, and don’t make a single fucking noise!” He turned at the sound of the kitchen door splintering open. Two of the creatures lunged into the room. They saw Gavin, stopped, and growled.

“Say goodbye to your dirty girl, Mr Policeman!” cackled Betsy.

Both the creatures spun around, leapt over Ada, and landed on Betsy. The woman shrieked as they both tore into her.

He pulled open the door, and silently wept when he saw a flight of stairs. He pushed her forward. “Go hide somewhere,” he hissed. Gavin ran forward and pushed the blade into the back of another creature climbing through the smashed window. He tugged it out then ran over to the stairs. That felt so good. When Gavin reached the door, he turned and saw the subhuman monsters were ripping the other woman apart. One of them had pulled the woman’s head back and was tearing out chunks of flesh from her neck. He left them to their meal and ran up the stairs, after closing the door. Maybe they’d leave the house once they had finished with the women.

Gavin gazed down at the blood dripping from the knife, not understanding what possessed him to do that. He shivered when that feeling of not being responsible for his actions creeped over him again. Jackie stood at the top of the stairs.

“Are they dead?”

He nodded. “They made noise, just like you are. Hush.” Just what would have happened if they had stayed outside? He didn’t even have to answer that one; those things would have ripped them to bits.

Jackie glanced fearfully behind him before hurrying over to the nearest closed door. Gavin gazed at the knife again, wishing it was a gun, and then ran up the rest of the steps. She opened the door and rushed in. He stopped at the threshold and began to shake, seeing the smashed window and the glass spread across the carpet. Those things were already up here.

A huge arm reached in through the window, grabbed Jackie, and pulled the shrieking woman forward. He could only watch, his whole body numb as the creature pulled the girl out of the window. Gavin slowly gazed down at the knife still in his hand, watching droplets of thick blood fall onto the green carpet.

He now realised that, just like the rest of the inhabitants of this town, he no longer controlled his destiny. His free will had just been a cruel illusion. Gavin shifted his eyes and stared at the huge creature leaning against the far wall. “Is that all I am?” he whispered. “Just food to feed you?”

The huge sub-human took one step closer to him and blinked. Gavin stared into those beautiful amber eyes and felt the last of his resistance leave him. He smiled, watching it open its heavy jaw. Gavin closed his eyes, knowing that this was not his true end.

Chapter Twenty-one

He brought his hand up to his face, unable to stop it clenching and unclenching. The excess life-energy coursing through his body made Max feel as though he could run forever. He had forgotten just how good it felt to climb into a new unoccupied body. In reality, Max knew that he hadn’t really allowed the knowledge to vanish. The powers had just stripped out the experience. It made sense, really. If they had allowed him to remember just how fucking awesome it felt, he’d be swapping his body at the merest hint of illness or damage to the shell.

The terrified expressions plastered across the faces of Amber and Dave made him feel a little guilty. He so wished that he could pass on some of this energy to them; it would make the last part of their journey so much easier. Even the thug looked a little unnerved at seeing a dead man return to life.

“Right, I’ve had just enough of this weird shit,” growled Phil. He glared at Max. “I know you’re not the little tart’s dad. I knew him, and you ain’t that bloke anymore.” He peered into Max’s eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”

He smiled at Phil. “You and Dave stepped over me on your way to the pub last weekend. Dave stopped you from giving me a good kicking.”

“You’re that dirty tramp? Fuck!”

“You wanted weird shit,” said Dave, sighing.

Max ran over to the window and looked down at the broken body below him, wishing that he hadn’t killed her. Max hated needless waste; he also had the feeling that Lisa might have been able to tell him where the knives were.

“Are you going to tell me or what?”

He turned around. “Phil, this town is a machine. The people who were born here, both on the surface and below the ground, are the working parts, the basic components. When the powers gave your species the gift of self-awareness, your primal instincts to rule, murder, and obliterate just overcame every other emotion. Your species raged across the land. You destroyed everything then turned on each other.”

“Don’t we do that now?” Dave shook his head. “I ain’t buying this. You only have to turn on the news to see the violence. We kill each other every day.”

Max nodded, “Yeah, you do, but the violence is still isolated. Before you roll your eyes, just think of how many humans live on the planet; there’s only a fraction of you who cause harm to each other. Can you imagine every human acting like that?”

“Sounds like our town.”

Max glanced over at Phil, “Yeah, and until Daniel took matters into his hands, the violence stayed out of sight.”

He moved away from the window, wondering how much time they had left. “The powers were faced with two simple choices; they could remove the gift or create a controlled pressure point. They refused to admit defeat so they created Brutality and towns like this one.” Max took a deep breath and looked at Dave; the boy believed him. He wondered just how much of this tale he would have believed if he hadn’t already seen the two families.

“What the fuck are those things under the earth?” asked Phil.

“You are not the first sentient civilisation to live on this planet. Like your civilisation, the two before you needed these locations.” He smiled at Amber. “Machines need maintenance. My job and the others before me were to ensure that nothing went wrong and that everything ticked along smoothly. We allowed the components to carry on with their depraved behaviour, safe with the knowledge that as long as the deviations were concentrated here, your species could carry on, living their lives relatively free from evil.”

“What happened to them?” asked Dave. “The ones we saw.”

Max took a deep breath. “Natural disasters; the planet grew colder and two ice ages reduced the species back to primitive levels.”

“What is Daniel?”

He avoided Dave’s gaze. This was one shameful explanation that he wasn’t looking forward to. “That man is, I mean, he was, just like me. Daniel was another guardian.”

Phil shrugged. “So, we kill this bastard and everything is cool, right?”

Max shook his head. “If we do that, his Ka will just inhabit another body. One of your friends found a set of knives. The police found them; I thought that Lisa might have had them. It looks like I was mistaken. They are the only tools that will end him. The Powers only bestowed this knowledge when I was between bodies.”

“You mean you had no idea before,” asked Dave.

“Well, it’s not something that they would advertise.”

Dave and Amber ran over to the other desk and started to pull out the drawers. “Wait!” said Dave. “How old are you?”

“Daniel and I were taken at the same time, Dave. We had been sent here to discover why none of the inhabitants had paid tax to the king.” Max smiled. “This was King John, by the way. Anyway, we were both caught and killed, and we both woke up in our same bodies, armed with the knowledge that a guardian needed to keep the machine running smoothly.”

Max sensed movement. He turned around and ran back over to the window. “This is not good. Come on!” he shouted, running out of the room and down the stairs. They didn’t have much time left. Max’s face drained of blood at the sight of one of the first family staring into the room. “Oh no,” he gasped. No, not this, not again.”

Phil grabbed a sweeping brush and stood in front of Max. “Fuck off, get out of here. I’ve got your back.”

Max shook his head. “Phil, they’ll ignore you and me, it’s the outsiders that they’ll go for.”

The hulking monster growled and entered the house, jumping as the door behind it slammed shut. It fixed its gaze on Phil and licked its black lips.

“It’s not ignoring me.” Phil looked around. “Dave, just fuck off, will you and take your loose tart with you.”

He raised the broom and swung it, cracking the pole into the side of the creature’s head. It staggered, shook its head, and then lunged for Phil. Max ran over to the pair, not wanting to watch the carnage. This just was not possible; how the hell had Daniel done this? Those creatures were programmed only to attack the outsiders. “In here!” he shouted, pushing them into the living room.

Max and Dave pushed the sofa up against the door just as he felt the wood shudder. The creature had seen where they went. This door would not hold it for long. “Get to the back of the room!” he shouted.

“What do we do now? We’re trapped.”

Max ran past them. “Haven’t you learned anything yet, Amber?” He ripped off the wallpaper on the far wall with both his hands, trying to remember the sequence. He moved his fingers along the wall, feeling for the indentations, painfully aware that the creature was making short work of that door, and it would be in here any second. He grinned when he felt a distinctive click. Max pushed, grinning as the wall slid forward a few inches. He spun around and pushed them through the gap, moaning at the sight of the creature climbing through the shredded door. He squeezed himself through the gap and pushed the wall back into place just in time.

Dave looked at Max. “Oh God, I can’t believe that Phil is dead.”

“Are you serious?” Amber retorted. “A few hours ago that bastard would have tossed our bodies onto a huge fucking bonfire.”

Max wrapped his arms around the girl. “You should mourn him, Amber. He was able to break from his programming; it is something that none of the others above ground were able to achieve. I suspect that it was because Phil was nowhere near as bad as the other locals. I always assumed they couldn’t change any more than a lion will stop hunting. At least, that’s what I thought. Phil sacrificed his life to help you escape. I suggest you think on that.”

The girl pushed him away. “I don’t know what to think,” she cried. “Not anymore! Oh Jesus, you’re in my dad’s body, and that is creeping me the fuck out.”

Dave grabbed Amber’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I should have persuaded you to stay in that storeroom.” He glared at Max. “These steps in front of me, don’t say they lead back to those fucking caves.”

Amber moaned.

“There is no way we can go down there again.”

“We have to finish this, Dave.” He started to descend, knowing they had no other choice but to follow. The energy was beginning to dissipate, and he wished it would stay for a little longer; he needed the boost to help him complete this and to cover the incredible guilt for what he was leading these two into.

The Powers had only told Max enough for him to see that they had never abandoned him or the town. An involuntary shiver went through him when he thought about what else they had told him.

“It’s getting lighter.”

Max nodded. Dave was right. “Look, none of the families will be down here, they’re all above ground.” He quickened his pace, not wanting to share his fears with them. Oh, he so hoped he was wrong about this. Max stopped at the base of the stairs and gazed into the large chamber; it was empty, at least of living people. He shut his eyes and tried to hold his tears back. The Powers had already hinted of this, but to actually witness Daniel’s ‘work’ just turned his bowels to water.

He slowly walked out of the tunnel and into the first family’s slaughter room. They brought their food in here. Max looked in horror at the parallel row of several wooden poles jutting out of the ground; a narrow trench was between the poles where the creature’s gutted their food and watched them bleed out before eating the drained meat.

“What the fuck is going on?” cried Dave, walking past Max and looking at the occupied bodies.

“This is where me and Daniel died all that time ago,” he whispered. “It looks like he has never allowed the experience to leave him.”

“But I thought he wanted to set the people free!”

“Nobody can set them free but the Powers. Everyone is going to die, Dave. The man is going to turn this planet into a funeral pyre,” said Max. He watched his words sink in. The boy was almost ready for his ultimate betrayal. The sequence was close to termination. Max couldn’t stop their final plan, even if he tried. “The first families have dozens or chambers like this one. That maniac will slaughter all of them.” He wished he could stop this charade.

Dave spun around. “Oh no!” he cried. “Where’s Amber?”

Max wanted to throw up.

“Amber?” screamed Dave.

The lad raced back up the stairs. Max swallowed his fear as he followed Dave, just hoping that the Powers would be merciful. He groaned when he saw the huge shaggy pelted sub-human creature at the top of the stone stairs. It waited until Dave was almost at the top before it pushed its claws into Amber’s exposed throat. Thick blood blasted from the entry wounds, splashing against the rock face. Max grabbed Dave and jerked him back as the creature pulled the girl’s body into another hidden tunnel. “She’s dead, Dave!”

He was just thankful that the Powers heard his plea. The sub-humans had not allowed his last body to die so easily. “Come on, we need to finish this.”

“It’s not possible, she can’t be gone, how is that fair?”

Max turned him around and grabbed Dave’s shoulders. “If we don’t stop him, it won’t be just her, everyone alive will perish.” He dragged the lad down the stairs, hating every second of this. He had no choice; he had to see this out to the bitter end.

He re-emerged out into the chamber, feeling like he was dragging a ragdoll. The bodies hanging off the gutting poles had donated most of their blood. Max passed them, not wanting to gaze at their pale faces, frozen in tortured screams. Their agony must have been unbelievable. He tried not to let his feelings blind his rational side. Max knew that if these creatures had possessed true self-will, then their punishment might have even fitted their crimes.

“I can’t live without her,” Dave cried.

“Focus that misery and grief, Dave. Turn it into hate. The person who caused this is in one of these chambers. Don’t let her death be in vain. Help me stop him, help me before he kills everyone.” Max saw the lad’s fire erupt. “We still have time to stop Daniel before he finishes his plan.”

He saw several faces watching him as he entered the next chamber. Daniel’s next victims were already tied to the gutting poles, but the boy holding the curved blade had yet to cut through their flesh. Max saw Daniel standing next to a police officer. The other guardian spotted Max and grinned.

“Ooh, I see you have a new body. That’s a bit cleaner than your other one. What do you think of my body?”

Max took one step towards the boy.

“He has orders to start slicing if you attempt to stop him.”

“Daniel, please don’t do this.”

“Is that it? That’s your whole argument?” Daniel started to laugh. “Oh dear, in all the centuries I’ve known you, why do you never fail to amuse me, Max? You are so utterly predictable, so tragic, and so devoted to your duties.” Daniel walked a little closer to them.

Max waited. Tony was staring at Daniel. Before Max could nudge Dave, the lad shot past him and swung his fist into the boy’s stomach. The boy folded in half. Dave snatched the blade and pushed the blade into the boy’s neck.

He watched Daniel’s expression alter; he didn’t rage, the man just laughed. “Well done! I hadn’t expected that one, Max.” He took the blade from the policeman and charged Dave; the lad stood no chance. Daniel plunged the knife deep into Dave’s heart. “There you go,” Daniel said, panting. He stepped back after retrieving the curved knife. “There, that’s the end of your silly little scheme to stop all of this. Now, will you let me continue? I’m way behind schedule as it is.”

Max walked over to Dave; he bent over and closed his eyes. “Forgive me?” he whispered. Max picked up the knife and said, “You don’t believe in the Powers, do you?”

The man shook his head. “You already know the answer to that one.”

“They believe in you, my friend.” He held the knife out in front of him. “This will end your life, Daniel; it will remove your Ka from this realm.” The uncertainty in Daniel’s eyes lasted for just a few seconds, but it was enough to tell Max that he knew it was true.

“Don’t just stand there,” shouted Daniel. “Go get your fucking knife back!”

Max waited for the man to turn before he turned the blade around. “If I go, my friend, so do you. We died together. You were gutted right where you are standing, Daniel. You are about to experience your death again.”

“No, you can’t do this!”

He sighed, feeling the last piece fit into place. “You don’t get it. Our time has come, Daniel. The Powers planned everything. Neither of us has free will. They planned everything.” He looked over at Dave’s slumped body. “They are our replacements, Daniel. It has all been preordained.” He took a deep breath and pushed the knife into his chest, smiling at the sight of the bright light removing the pain, and taking him to meet the other guardians.

Epilogue

Dave opened his eyes and gazed at Amber lying beside him. He slowly sat up and saw another couple lying in a bed on the other side of the room. He rubbed his eyes and looked down at his chest. There was no wound, no nothing. It happened, Dave had no doubts; he could still feel the fucker slicing into him.

The others began to stir. Dave wrapped his fingers around Amber’s hand then leaned over to kiss her. She opened her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You are the most beautiful sight I have ever seen.”

“Oh my God, I thought I was dead.”

“You were dead,” said the man from the other bed. “We all were.”

Dave looked over at him. Dave had seen him around town a few times.

“I’m Gavin by the way, and welcome to the end of the world.” He got up and walked over to the window. “It’s about to start, do you want to watch?”

“I don’t follow you.”

Gavin nodded. “It’s okay, the Powers have yet to fill you in. We have been here a bit longer than you. It’s the end of humanity, Dave. North Korea fired three nuclear tipped missiles at Seoul. One of them went astray and vaporised China’s capital city. We’re sitting on the edge of Armageddon.”

“What, I don’t get it, did Max fail?”

The man laughed. “Max did everything he was supposed to. He wasn’t meant to stop Daniel. The plan was to recruit the next four guardians. That’s us, by the way. We’re going to be caring for the inhabitants of the next town that will be built on this spot. We’re going to look after the fourth family.” The room exploded into white light. As normal light resumed, he saw Gavin sitting on the bed holding the girl.

“There goes London. We have a few minutes before the three missiles heading for this area turn us into radioactive dust. Make these moments matter, buddy. Once the town is ready, the Powers will resurrect us and we’ll be able to start our work.

The end.

BURGER

By

Ian Woodhead

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright Ian Woodhead, April 2016

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, scanning or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.

.

Acknowledgements

A big thank you to the following people for taking time to beta read this little story. You all rock, seriously!

Matt Hickman

Kyle M Scott

Anna Garcia-Center

Leslie Whitaker

Becki Narron-Heath

Pat Singer

Amy Farmer

Daniel I Russell

Lisa Redden

BURGER

There's this old woman living next door to us.  Now this mad bag is never seen during the day.  She only comes out at night and then spends the hours from dusk to dawn roaming the deserted streets on the look out for stray cats.

A few days ago,  my older brother ordered me to murder her.  He dropped my favourite scissors into my hands,  giving me that famous intense stare that he'd perfected since childhood and calmly informed me that the bitch had stolen Fluff,  my brother's black and white kitty.

We both knew there wasn't a chance that Fluff still lived.  My brother's mental pet would be in kitty heaven, killing rats and rabbits and terrifying any celestial postman.  You see, old Mavis Potter didn't wander through the town at the dead of night,  collecting these cats out of kindness.  Oh no, she killed the cats,  ate their soft bits and fashioned cutlery from their bones.

A bit mental you think? A crazed loon, someone who deserved the twin points from a pair of scissors stuck through her chest? Sure she was, what else would you expect from another local, born in our quaint town of Brutality.  She was one of us and that's the sole reason why I couldn't do her in.

I love my brother and I'd do anything for him, up to a point. He knows this and obviously, he takes advantage.

I did set fire to the woman's house when she was out though.  Gavin even joined me. He even smiled when the sounds of the animals that she must have collected the previous night began to scream.

It still wasn't enough for Gavin.  Because I had failed to kill her, despite doing so would have broken the ultimate rule, I still had to pay penance.  That brings us to why the pair of us are now standing in this crappy kitchen, with me cooking in this rather splendid frying pan and Gavin leaning against the doorframe, holding one of the occupant’s sharp knives and watching the last few drops of blood fall onto the blue tiles.

For the first time since the disappearance of Fluff, my brother had dropped the Gavin glare into his mindbox and closed the lid, to the obvious relief of myself. Gavin wasn’t exactly the nicest person to be around when he had his glare cemented onto his face. Granted, my brother was a bit of a cunt to me nearly every day, but at least now, he was able to direct his cruelty at somebody other then me for a change.

In fact, I do believe that I see a hint of a smile glued to his face. That’ll be due to that knife. Gavin so loves a good sharp knife, especially when given the opportunity to use one.

“You sure that’s not done already? If you ask me, you’re going to burn that meat.”

“Yeah well, nobody is asking you, are they? Look, I don’t tell you how to carve, and you don’t tell me how to cook. Them’s the rules, man.”

My brother grumbled for a seconds under his breath but didn’t come back with any smart retort. I did lower the heat though, just a touch before I turned to finish off preparing the rest of the meal.

The Soaper family didn’t exactly live like paupers. I found everything I needed in order to construct my two fresh steak burgers.

The steak was very fresh.

I had bread rolls, enough iceberg lettuce to sink the Titanic, a block of mature cheddar cheese, burger relish as well as a few cans of beer to wash this fantastic meal down our throats.

The meal would go down in the annals of Brutality history as the best burger ever created in this shitty town.

My brother laid the knife on the counter, next to the cooker. “Hey, Jamie. Do you remember that hiker we found near the Bishop farmhouse?”

“Sure I do,” I replied. I gently turned the steak over, watching the blood sizzle in the hot oil. Those meaty aromas were beginning to make me drool. Why did Gavin bring up Sandy Mears all of a sudden? There wasn’t a chance that I would forget that beautiful young blonde woman in a hurry. She was my first fuck, a proper little goer she was too.

“I recall you crying like a little baby when I made you eat both her eyes.”

What a mean little bastard. I looked into those piggy brown eyes, and so wanted to punch him right on the nose. He just wouldn’t let anything lie. He brought this up, just because I had a go at him. He’s always got have the upper hand.

“So fucking what? You’d have done the same, Gavin and don’t pretend you wouldn’t either. Everyone knows you have a dodgy stomach.” It’s weird how my mind brushed all the icky wet stuff under the rug and only allowed me to remember the fun bit of actually fucking the woman. Sure, I did have to wait my turn and Gavin wasn’t exactly gentle with her. He used a knife on her before he pulled down his pants.

Thanks to Gavin’s mean words, my lovely experience with the hiker was completely ruined. He shattered my post-coital slumber by passing me his favourite knife before he sat down on Sandy’s chest. While he flicked her nipples, my brother ordered me to dig out her eyes.

Look, don’t get me wrong here. It’s not that I minded the job. I’ve done it a couple of times before. I was kinda hoping I’d be able to get another fuck out of her first. She wasn’t all that badly damaged. The shock of taking her eyes would kill her and unlike Gavin, I wouldn’t be able to fuck a corpse.

Thinking back, I should have mushed them up, while taking them out of her shrieking face. At least I wouldn’t have felt so horrible when I bit the first one in half and all that slimy stuff squirted all over my chin.

I wouldn’t have been able to mutilate those eyes, it just isn’t in me to do such a thing. I’m a perfectionist. Always have been and Gavin takes advantage of that.

The first steak was just about done. I carefully removed the meat and placed it on a warm plate, still wondering what my brother was up to. I looked at the knife and then at him. “We have a few minutes before that’s ready. Don’t you think you should be getting the other steak ready?”

His grin deepened. “You can cut your own steak.”

I looked back at the steak I’d just cooked and wondered what he’d do if I told the bastard that I was taking that one, and he could cook his own pissing steak? Like I even needed to imagine his response. I sighed heavily, picked up the knife and walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, with my brother right behind me, giggling like some five year old.

Candice Soaper and her husband Damien both stared at the knife in my hand as soon as I entered the room. The man wasn’t paying as much attention as the woman. I put that down to the huge loss of blood and the large hole in the back of his leg. Considering the pain he must be in, he wasn’t doing that badly, probably putting on a brave face to help comfort his terrified wife. It did sound like the sort of thing he would do.

The Soaper family moved in to the old Laker house when Gavin and I were both kids. Even then, we knew there was something really strange about the couple. For a start the pair of them were really nice to us. They gave us sweets and cake and pop and all sorts of stuff nobody else on the street gave us. Both mum and dad told us to leave them alone and not to bother them. It’s only much later that we were told that neither of them were from Brutality.

Even to this day, I have no idea how they managed to stay alive for so long. I mean the pair of them. You would have though that at least one of the family would be dead by now, the woman most likely. She was very pretty.

When we set fire to the old bag’s house, these two came running out to help put out the flames. It made the pair of us grin while watching them pull grief stricken faces when they heard all the trapped animals howling and shrieking. I even noticed tears run down Candice’s cheeks. It was very funny. Damien made it even better by handing out beer once the fire was out.

It was my brother’s idea to make burgers from bits of these two. He even asked me if I was fine with that, in his annoying condescending manner. I saw no problem at all with his plan. After all, unlike the old bag, they weren’t born here so that made the pair of them fair game.

Gavin altered a plan once he’d secured Mr and Mrs Soaper to adjacent wooden dining chairs, and he saw the family photographs decorating the wall above the open fire. Neither of us noticed these two had a young daughter of around twelve.

It came as a complete shock to discover the couple had bred. Oh sure, we knew they fucked each other. I’ve seen them at it a number of times from my bedroom window. It’s just that neither of us knew. Believe me, keeping secrets in Brutality is near impossible.

My only explanation to this oddity was some relative in another town looked after the little bitch, and she only visited her proper parents on occasion.

That did kinda make sense. After all, who the fuck would want to send their kids to a school in Brutality? Only the proper stupid do that, or the ones who are totally blind to what goes on in town. There are a few kids not born in Brutality who go to my school and believe me when I say they regret it every single day.

“I think I can see those tears already in the corner of your eyes, Jamie. Admit it, you’re shitting your pants at the prospect of cutting into her leg and eating the meat.”

“Will you stop that!” He was such a child. “Look, it’s totally different okay? Those eyeballs were raw; also, I suppose it’s offal. You know, soft bits, like liver and kidney. No, as per usual, you don’t have a clue want you’re talking about. This is totally different.”

I stopped directly in front of the weeping woman and rested the business part of the knife on the top of her yellow blouse and slowly drew it down, cutting through fabric and skin. She howled through the sock gag. “My brother probably expects me to make a similar noise when I carve my steak.” I dropped down and pulled her white sock down to her ankle. “We’ll show him though, me and you, Candice.” I took off my belt, wrapped it around the top of the thigh before tightening as much as I could. This is something Gavin didn’t do which probably explains the huge lake of thick blood around Damien’s chair legs and why he’ll probably be dead very soon. I then used the point to cut a shallow oval around the flesh. Candice did everything she could to stop me from cutting into her. Thankfully, Gavin was on hand to punch her hard in the throat to stop any such nonsense.

My brother, who thinks he knows everything about everything,  peeled off the skin before carving out the steak. That’s because he’s a fucking idiot and really has no clue what he’s doing.

I sliced deeper, angling the blade up, towards the surface, before repeating the same action on the other side. I grinned up at Gavin as my steak lifted straight from the back on the thigh with the minimum of fuss.

“Show off,” he muttered.

I couldn’t help myself, I just grinned like a loon. That had to be the best compliment he’s ever given me. I placed my steak on a couple pieces of kitchen paper before pushing a load of screwed up balls of the stuff into the indentation I’d just made.

“It’s not like a fish, Jamie. You can’t cook the steak with its skin on.”

“Yeah, I know that, it just makes it easy to remove it without killing the person.”

“Who’s cares about that?” he replied, sniffing. “Look, can I eat mine yet?”

I nodded. “Yeah, it’ll be ready now, the meat is nice and rested. Do you want me to prepare it?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s cool. I think I know how to slap a steak and some salad in between a bread roll, thank you very much.” As he passed me, he looked back at the clock. “Just don’t take all day with yours. Remember, we only have about twenty minutes left.”

It took Gavin a while to torture out the location of their lovely daughter, even longer to discover the time when she was due home. Like I mentioned earlier, my brother sure does know how to use the knife, especially when it comes to extracting information. I glanced around at the mess he’d made with cutting out his steak. Okay, probably not that much of an expect in meat carving. I could have done a better job with my eyes closed.

His reminder did make  me move my arse. My brother said that the little girl was going to be the ultimate sweet after we’d eaten our meal. It also made me silently curse my stupidity for not offering to make up his burger. It didn’t matter how much time he put into the construction, he wouldn’t be able to make one as delicious as anything I could make.

So why the rush to please Gavin all of a sudden? Isn’t it obvious? If I made the big man’s taste buds orgasm, he might contemplate allowing me to enjoy the girl properly before him and that knife of his completely fucking ruined her.

Gavin ran back into the living room with a tomato in his left hand.

“You want me to slice that for you?”

He looked at the woman briefly before turning his attention to me. “Didn’t you hear that?”

“Hear what?” I replied, shaking my head. “Do you want me to do your burger, Gavin? I don’t mind, honestly.”

My brother strode over me, reached the woman and clamped his big hand around her throat. “You’re such a lying little bitch,” he snarled. “She’s in the house isn’t she? Hiding somewhere, no doubt.” He leaned closer until his nose almost touched hers. “Here’s the plan. You tell me exactly where she is right now and I promise I won’t kill her.”

The woman’s eyes had gone into full fucking waterfall now. I slowly got to my feet and stood beside my brother, shaking with rage, unable to comprehend that these two were actually able to hide this information from me and Gavin..

“and to think I spent so much time ensuring that you’d live through this.” The man was dead, not that I cared much about this development. My knife was still on the floor, next to my steak. The blood had already leaked through the paper. Good job really. If I still had it in my hand, there’s no telling the damage I would have done to her pretty face. Thinking about it I think I would have started with her nose.  “Where the fuck is she, you bitch?”

My brother grabbed the back of my collar and pulled me away. “Like anything you say is going to make her tell us?” He let go and rushed over to the door that led to the stairs. “We can find her ourselves, Jamie. This house isn’t that big.”

“Wait on, what about the burgers?”

“Fuck the burgers,” he said. “Seriously, leave them. They’re no longer relevant. There’s scores to settle.”

I dutifully followed my brother to the door. What temper I felt regarding her deception had already left me. “You shouldn’t have lied to us, Candice,” I said, watching her tears drip onto the carpet. She really should stop it with the waterworks before she ran out of body fluid. Then again, considering her eventual fate, I guess that death by dehydration would be a lot less painless to what Gavin would be doing to her once he’d found the bitch’s daughter.``

Gavin had already made his accent up the stairs. I did consider letting him find the girl alone, while I finished off my burger. It felt like such a shame to leave it lying there. After all I’d probably only get in his way.

“Get your arse up here!”

I sighed to myself, so much for that plan.

It didn’t take much fuckery to rile up Gavin. Telling a little white lie would do it. So would trying to make him feel stupid or getting one over on him, but to hit the man with all three, in front of his little brother? Well, you might as well dig your grave and jump in it.

He stood in the middle of the narrow landing, his fingers scratching at the crappy floral wallpaper while he looked up at a wooden white board recessed into the ceiling. Gavin must believe that our prey was hiding in the loft, shivering away, her little bare arms wrapped around the girl’s tiny, fragile body. It made me shiver in delight at what my brother had planned for her.

“Up there?” I whispered.

He slowing nodded, Gavin turned his grinning face towards me. “You had better check the other rooms anyway. You know,  just to be sure.”

Unlike me, he made no effort to lower his voice and why should he? It’s not like she was going to escape. She was practically ours now, it was only a matter of time before I’d be able to penetrate that soft virgin flesh.

“Why are you still there? Go do as you’re told, man.”

Shaking my head, I peeked into the first room and found a normal, boring looking bathroom. I saw nothing out of the ordinary, and no places, apart from the bath, large enough to hide a child. I closed the door and squeezed past Gavin to get to the next door.

This one heralded a few hidey holes. The double bed with shitty pictures of flowers on one side and photos of motorbikes on the other wall told me that I’d entered the bedroom belonging to the dead husband and soon to be dead wife.

Gavin was watching me so I had still had to check it out. I dropped to the floor and peeked under the bed. Apart from a pair of slippers and some magazines, there was no child under there. The wall cupboard and the wardrobe in the corner of the room gave me bin bags, old clothes, a ton of shoes but no kiddie.

The last room up here had to belong to our future pleasure piece. I left the domain of mummy and daddy and rested my shaking hand upon the door handle, knowing full well that if Gavin was wrong about her location, it would be me who’d get to her first. If I was quick enough, I might even be able to at least have a pretty decent grope before Gavin snatched her out of my hands. I twisted the handle, expecting to find my eyes bombarded with pictures of ponies and princesses.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I said, stepping inside. There wasn’t even a hint of girly pink in here. I felt like I’d just stepped into some kind of medieval torture chamber, only for animals. I brushed past a fish tank, containing the dried up corpses of mice, rats, a couple of guinea pigs and what might have been a kitten. In the gaps between the bones and bodies, I saw razorblades in little plastic holders, glued to the base of the tank. “What kind of sick shit is this?”

There was a three foot high metal pole in the middle of the room, with seven thick chains leading down from the top. Each one held the remains of a large animal, two of them were definitely dogs. I moved a little closer and stopped dead when I recognised the corpse of another creature on a large wooden table at the back of the room. Thick nails were driven into each paw. It looked like it had died very recently and in a great deal of pain. My mouth went as dry as sandpaper when I felt my brother standing beside me. How was he going to react when he saw what had happened to his Fluff?

What was going on here? This is exactly how I imagined the mad old bag’s house to look like, not some innocent little girl. I slowly turned to face Gavin when the realisation finally dawned on me. “She’s like us, Gavin. The girl was born here.” Shit. That old woman wasn’t collecting for herself. She must have been hunting for the kid.

“Like it matters,” he growled. “Like any of that fucking matters now. I’m still going to get that girl and hurt her bad.”

He turned around and left the room. If he had seen what she’d done to his cat, Gavin gave no indication. I stayed where I was, Trying to put this new development into perspective. “Gavin,” I shouted. “We have to leave. We have to leave now.”

“Not a chance. She’s all mine. I’m going to split the little bitch in two. It’s that simple.”

I turned and ran out of the room. “No, this is all wrong, can’t you see that? We’re messing with the glue that binds Brutality. We have to leave.”

Gavin grabbed me again. This time he wasn’t so gentle. I gritted my teeth as his hard fingers dug into the flesh around my shoulders. My brother didn’t say a word in reply, he just released a low growl. Right then, I knew any more words would be wasted. If anything, me opening my gob again would probably result in finding Gavin’s fist inside it.

He nodded to himself then pushed me away before he went into mummy and daddy’s bedroom. He’d obviously decided on some course of action, he just hadn’t informed me about it. I shrugged to myself, knowing at this point, this was totally out of my hands. I just hoped that whichever demented Gods who controlled our fucked-up town would taken that into consideration.

After some banging and a grunt of satisfaction, my brother returned with the skeleton of a small set of drawers. The contents and the drawer components were thrown on the double bed. Gavin still intended to go into the loft to get the girl.

This could only end in tears. If that girl was capable of doing all that horrible stuff to a bunch of innocent little animals, I hate to imagine what she could do to us, especially once she found out what we hade done to her parents and the chances were good that she already had a bloody good idea about that already.

Gavin had gone again. He then came out of the bathroom with a toilet brush in his hand. He manoeuvred his makeshift step ladder until it was directly under the wooden hatch then climbed onto the surface. My brother gave me a single wink before using the brush to push up the lid.

It’s difficult to put into words exactly what happened next.

I heard this thick, wet meaty thud and saw Gavin’s knees buckle. His body just toppled forward, my brother’s head smashing into the soft pile, inches from my feet. A fist sized, square hole in the top of his skull, told me everything I needed to know.

I’m not ashamed to admit that I panicked, especially when a thick tuft of matted, blonde hair followed by a grinning face appeared through the entrance to the loft.

I ran into the bathroom and locked the door when I saw the weapon she’d used on my brother, a lump hammer.

My mind kept asking how such a little thing was able to wield such a heavy tool with such effectiveness, while my body ordered my mind to shut the fuck up. I stayed there, against the door, listening to nothing but my harsh breathing. She hadn’t come down, I was sure of that. I’d heard no sounds that indicated the little girl had dropped onto the carpet.

Reluctantly, I pulled the bolt back and opened the door a crack. I couldn’t believe it, the girl was still in the same place, still grinning, still holding her lump hammer. My luck was holding. It was time to get out of here, to get back home as fast as I could and put all this down to one very bad, very unforgettable experience. It looked as thought our demented Gods were going to be kind to me after all, either that or they had a very weird sense of humour.

I wasn’t hanging around to find out why. I left the bathroom, gave my dead brother one last look before racing down the stairs. Trying to wonder exactly what I’d done wrong to deserve such mistreatment. I reached the door leading into the living and took one deep breath, deciding to honour my brother’s memory by not going home straight away but to head into town and order two burgers from the café. It seemed like a fitting tribute.

I opened the door and gaped at the sight of the one body, still tied to the chair while the other chair was now empty. Also, the piece of thigh I’d cut was missing and so was the knife.

“I’m guessing you’ve met our little girl?”

I tried not to scream when I felt the tip of that knife pressing into the side of my neck. “Gavin’s dead, Candice.”

“Oh is he? That is a shame.”

She pushed the blade harder against my flesh. The warm sensation streaming down my neck told me she’d broken through the skin. It was easily fixable. I had some plasters in the kitchen drawer. “Didn’t you hear what I said? Gavin’s dead. Your daughter’s killed him. You know that’s against the rules.”

The woman pointed to the empty chair. “Sit down, you do look like you need a rest.”

“Candice, you have to let me go.”

The woman took out a roll of heavy duty tape and fastened my feet to the legs. I was in too much shock to even try to escape. She then rolled the tape around my chest three times, holding me tight against the back of the chair.

Once the woman was satisfied that I wasn’t going anywhere, she limped over to the door. “Honey, can you come down here for a minute?”

I craned my head, trying to see every part of my brother’s murderer. She sidled around the door, moving more like a weasel than a human. Even at such a young age, I could see this one was going to turn into a complete man killer, in more than the literal sense. She was absolutely stunning. The girl followed her mum over to where I was sitting, not giving her dad a single glance.

“Honey, do you think you could fetch me the metal funnel from the kitchen? It’s in the top cupboard under the microwave. Just make sure you bring the metal one and not the plastic one.” She then turned to me. “I don’t want that one to melt.”

The fear I felt upstairs then made an unwelcome return, which increased when I saw a neat row of flames under a saucepan on the hob. “Please let me go.”

The girl returned with the metal funnel.

“Good girl. Now I need you to push the narrow bit into his mouth, as far down as you can.”

“This might come as a shock to a psycho like you, but I don’t appreciate you and your brother bursting in to our house, torturing us and then allowing my husband to die. Saying that, because I have a little psycho of my own to cope with I can understand your depraved urges.” She paused for a moment. “I guess you’ve already guessed this, but in case you are as stupid as you look, the pan contains a full bottle of oil and now it should be hot enough to fry a chip in.”

I tried to scream, I tried to stop the little bitch from doing what her mum asked, then I pissed myself in utter terror when I watched the woman pick up the pan and limbed towards me.

The End

THE SHED

By

Ian Woodhead

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright Ian Woodhead, May 2016

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, scanning or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.

This short story is dedicated to Kyle M. Scott and his beloved cat.

Acknowledgements

A big thank you to the following people for taking time to beta read this little story. You all rock, seriously!

Dean Setters

Erin Kelly

Rebecca Narron-Heath

Lisa Reddon

Lisa Swearengin

Dane Hatchell

The Shed

Oh my word, whistle for the Man and find his cat! What is she doing standing in front of my gate, with that smug grin plastered over that ugly, screwed-up tissue paper face. I tried to smile, knowing Mrs Harper had already spotted me through my kitchen window, but the upturn just would not materialize. Everyone in Brutality knows that Mrs Harper hates my guts and I certainly reciprocate her abhorrence. Even the Man and his cat knows it.

Her hand is now resting on the gate, her long scarlet nails, idly picking at my beautiful green gloss paintwork. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, probably along the lines of how she’s spent her life constantly chipping away at everything I hold dear. Oh heavens, this really has ruined my entire day, it’s even made the previous delicious aroma coming from my bubbling broth smell like old cheese.

I nudge the heat down a couple of notches before popping the kettle on. She’s already started making her way up the garden path, her head swishing to the side like a horse shooing flies, while gazing at my blooms in that typical Mrs Harper glower.

“Yes, my old friend,” I said, finally finding my smile. “They are better than the pitiful weeds you have in your garden.” I give the woman a little wave and open the cupboard door above the microwave to see if I can find a cup appropriate for this royal visit.

Of course, my fingers gravitated towards that old cracked cup, right at the back. The one I dropped and glued back together. The one I once filled with menstrual blood and made a certain young boy drink for being so perfectly naughty. I couldn’t though, Mrs Harper deserved much worse. I had to show the woman that I was so much better than her. My fingers paused next to the Brutality two century commemorative mug and the reason for her surprise visit smacked me right in the face.

She must have heard about my nomination, that for the first time in over ten years, that horrible witch might not win this year’s coveted Happy Day Scythe. I froze, in mid-stretch, listening to the woman rap on my door. I just knew that Mrs Harper had also discovered I was expecting a very special guest.

Both the previously mentioned cups stayed right on the shelf and I selected some generic white ceramic plain mug to hold that woman’s hot fluid. She deserved nothing better. Besides, Mrs Gloria Price would get my best cup, the one that I’d reserved for the Man, in case he ever decided to visit this humble woman.

“I wouldn’t even give this old thing to the Man’s cat.”

I let her bang a couple more times before taking my time in my trek from this room, into the hallway and to my door. I waited another couple of seconds, not to further annoy the diseased hag on the other side, but to fix my face. It just wasn’t becoming for me to greet her with a frown, in case anyone else was peeking. Also, I knew my frown would only make Mrs Harper insanely happy.

“Whistle for the Man!” I exclaimed, opening the door wide. She too wore a painted grin. It was perfectly grotesque. Picture a red crescent scrawled on a greasy brown football by a retarded child and you’ll be close to what she looks like. “If I had known you were banging upon my door, bruising your delicate skin, I would have run to greet you.”

“Melissa, you look simply exquisite today. Love the dress. You know, it reminds me of the garment we buried my grandma in, all those years ago. It does look good on you though, my dear.”

The woman pushed past me and strolled straight into my kitchen. I took a deep breath, so trying not to choke on the foul woman’s perfume vapour trail and followed her through. I was so going to fix her wagon for that hurtful retort, that was so not deserved.

“What are you cooking, my dear? It does smell good.”

“I have a guest, later on, Mrs Harper, so I’m making my signature dish. In fact, I was about to prepare the meat. Would you like to help?”

Her whole face lit up. “You’re cooking stew for her?”

The woman’s restrained emotions slipped enough for me to recognise the bitter, twisted and nasty girl I remember all the way back from school. I also spotted another emotion in there too. I believe it was jealousy. The whole town knew the legend of my delicious stew, just as they were aware that I vowed never to make it again after my darling husband passed away, ten years ago.

“Did I hear that right about you cooking stew?”

“Yes you did, Diana Harper. I believe the time is right. The Man also gifted me with what can only be described as providence.”

“In that case, my friend. I would be delighted and honoured to help you make your famous stew,” she said, eagerly rubbing her hands together.

I'll confess to finding conflicted feelings running through my head over her reaction. The cynical part of me stood at the top of the hill shouting that she only wanted to steal my recipe, that she’d thrust one of my knives into my back as soon as we entered the shed. Yet, my rarely seen Zen mother was sitting down at the foot of this hill, as calm as you like, explaining that, nobody in town actually liked either of us. Diana knew that. She was the closest person I had to a friend, and she knew this too.

A trifle deep and perhaps a little too convenient? Perhaps, it didn’t prevent me from releasing a little girly giggle though. “Come along, honey. Follow me then. I think you are going to enjoy this.” I led her through the kitchen and out into the back garden. I kept most of my stores in the shed at the bottom of the garden, away from prying eyes. Brutality might be a closed community but that doesn’t mean that there isn’t anyone who would love to steal some of my valuables.

Mrs Harper and I have the privilege of supplying meat to Brutality’s hot food vans. It isn’t an exaggeration to announce that our little town does love its food. I’m proud to say we have more restaurants, fast-food shops, cafes and mobile eateries than any other town close by.

I wasn’t kidding about competitors trying to steal supplies either. Only last week, word got out that one certain individual tried to break in to the food processing factory on the edge of town. Rumour has it that this dirty little thief ended up in the mincer. I don’t have one of those, but mark my words, if anyone did try to clamber into my garden, they’d regret it.

“That is a rather splendid shed,” she remarked. “I have one just like it, only mine is a little larger and in better condition.”

I nodded, not really listening to her predictable boasting. It’s a talent that I have developed over the years to stop myself from getting worked up over her inability to compliment anything I own or do. I think that’s why Mrs Harper’s previous statement surprised me. There was also the minor fact that I was now looking forward to making my dish, and, I’ll admit, the meat preparation was always my favourite procedure.

She carried on making derogatory remarks about my beloved shed as I unlocked the door and pulled on the latch. Mrs Harper only shut her ever-loving gob when she clasped those piggy eyes upon the contents of my meat store.

“Oh my word,” she uttered. “To the Man and his cat, where did you find such magnificent specimens?”

I smiled then, a proper smile too, as there was nothing fake in the woman’s admiration in what I had just showed her. “Mrs Harper, I would like you to meet Stu.” I pointed to the naked boy, chained up to my husband’s old bike next to my work table. The boy’s baby-blue eyes darted from me to Mrs Harper. I saw nothing in that gaze but terror and surprise. I was so glad to have beaten out all the hate stored up in those nasty little peepers this morning.

I’m not sure how I would show my face at the Ladies Circle if any of them ever found out that I couldn’t control my food. It would be so embarrassing.

“And he is really called Stu?”

“Yes indeed,” I replied, nodding. “His full name is Stuart Ramsey but it’s still a sign, it is still providence.”

She let out a strange little murmur before turning towards the barred window. “And what about Stuart’s little playmates, do they have names?”

Judging from the girl’s scowl, she wasn’t too impressed with Mrs Harper’s comment. I didn’t really blame her. After all, she would be sixteen next and obviously too old to be playing with little boys. “Well, Miss Grumpy Knickers over there is Susan Bennett. As you can see, poor Susan isn’t all that happy about her current situation. The blonde boy, lying in the corner pretending to be asleep is David Reynolds. Try not to get too close to that one, honey. He’s not fully broken in yet.

“Quite a collection you have in here, Melissa. Although, I am a little confused as to why they’re still alive.”

“I thought that’s why the vendors preferred my stock.” Oh dear, it was so difficult not to hug myself with pleasure. Although, I did suspect that even after all these years of supplying, she still hadn’t worked out the stock specifically had to be kept alive and aware. It was the only way to ensure the meat stayed flavoursome. Her confession made me a very happy woman.

“You certainly are full of surprises,” she replied.

So where was her moody face? Why wasn’t she close to bursting into tears after finding out that she really was second rate? Could Mrs Harper be planning to keep her stock alive from now on? Well, let her, I still had a few more secrets, ones that I certainly wasn’t going to share.

She nodded down to the naked boy. “I will admit, his name does sound rather familiar.”

I giggled. I couldn’t help myself. I saw in her posture that Mrs Harper had already compared my set up to the one she had at the bottom of her garden and she knew mine was far superior. Of course, she wouldn’t admit that to me. If anything, her derogatory comments would only increase. After all, I hadn’t seen her shed. So, there will always be that element of uncertainty. There would be no ambiguity in my next statement. “Oh, didn’t you know? Mr Cartwright gave me him as a present.”

Mr Cartwright was the owner of the best grocery shop in Brutality, make no mistake there. His shop was so much better than the rubbish Shop and Save in the centre of town. Mrs Harper just loves the Shop and Save. Well, she would, that woman has no taste. Mr Cartwright is also the main man to see for supplies. He has a number of employees who are always on the lookout for strays, wastrels and any other unfortunate individual who wanders into our lovely town. I won't lie here. I do have a bit of a thing for the man. Then again, most of the women would so like to get that one into their beds.

She nodded to herself. “Oh yes, I seem to remember him telling me that he’d be throwing out some scraggy old offcut.” She smiled at me. “I should have known that you would have ended up with it. Mr Cartwright always saves the prime steak for his best customers.”

She was lying, or at least showing her encounter with him in a better light. Everyone knows that Mr Cartwright doesn't like Diana Harper.

“That lovely man gave me his mum and dad you see.” Mrs Harper grinned. “Dad is currently in my own shed.” The woman smiled down at the boy. “Be thankful that you didn’t end up in there, instead of being cared for by my friend. You see, I have these big steel hooks fastened into my rafters, and a metal trough beneath it, running the length of my shed. Your mother is currently hanging, upside down, the hooks pushed into her ankles.”

A small, muffled sob exploded from the boy.

“Now don’t get in such a state, little boy. It’s not like she’s in any pain. I killed her this morning, you see. I dragged a razor across her throat.” She crouched in front of him. “Oh dear, did I make you cry? I expect you hate me now, that you want your daddy to rescue you and to murder this poor defenceless woman now, Mmm? That won’t be happening. Your daddy is dead as well. He called me lots of nasty names so I boiled his head. He was weeping and crying. I tell you, he didn't have a very dignified end. I even had to wipe the wet snot from under his nose before I dunked his head into my big pot.”

“Yes well,” I snapped. “Shall we get on with it?” I marched over to Stu and picked him up, dragging the struggling boy past the woman and over to the worktop. How dare that she try to upstage me like that!

My temper got the better of me and I slammed the boy’s head against the scarred wooden worktop. Mrs Harper jumped at the sudden noise. “Oh, I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to startle you. I always make sure they're a little woozy first.” I lifted his left arm and placed it in my husband's old vice that was bolted to the worktop.

“How fascinating.”

Mrs Harper leaned over me while I wound the handle, tightening the jaws.

“If I had used this method, I would have used a basic tourniquet to suppress the blood flow.” She leaned even closer to the vice. “Oh my word, that is ingenious. The jaws are curved. I’m impressed!”

It took effort not to puff up my chest. She actually gave me a genuine compliment. “Yes. I once used that method too, honey, but I’m not as strong as I once was.”

“No, you never were a healthy child, Melissa.” She picked up a long curved blade. “This is very pretty. I guess you use this to detach the arm?”

“Usually, yes. Well, to cut away the skin and muscle.” I gave her my best condescending smile. How could anyone in our trade not understand basic human anatomy? “I have a saw to cut through the bone.”

“Hmm, it’s a little too fiddly for my liking. I would probably use an axe.”

I took the knife out of her hands. “I find this method a little more precise, honey, not so unprofessional.”

“Each to their own, I guess.”

That was another one to me. Not that I was keeping count. I laid the knife back on the worktop and picked up my hacksaw, watching Mrs Harper’s questioning face, wondering if she was going to ask the obvious. Much to my annoyance, the witch kept that gob of hers tight. “The saw? Oh, you’re right. I know what I just said about using the knife to slice through the skin and muscle.” I glowered at the boy, happy to see that my little outburst involving his head and the worktop hadn't left any lasting damage. The boy was alert as ever. “You see, Mrs Harper, I caught this little ruffian trying to help young David over there to escape.”

I placed the saw against tender skin. “David, I know you’re awake. I just hope you’re happy now. Poor Stuart’s imminent agony is a direct consequence of your action.”

I readied myself and counted down from five. I didn’t even reach number two before Mrs Harper raised her hand like some classroom schoolgirl.

“Sorry, but is there a chance that I might play with Stuart’s hair while you saw?”

The request took me totally by surprise.

I shrugged. “I don’t see why not, honey.” That old girl grew weirder every week.

“Oh, one more thing. Do you not think you should be getting changed first, you’re going to ruin your dress.”

I shrugged again. “You mean this old thing?” The Man really must be smiling on me today, I sensed yet another low blow for me. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, my dear. Something like this might have been the best and most expensive dress in your dead and rotting gran’s house, but this is just some old rag I put on, especially for this operation.”

My fingers gripped Stuart’s upper arm before I put my weight on the saw and slid the blade forward, the teeth effortlessly biting through the flesh. The muffled shrieks threatening to burst through Stuart’s sewn up lips was like music to my ears. It was almost as pleasant as listening to Mrs Harper moan in delight while she ran her bony fingers through the boy’s soft hair. I pulled the saw back, grinning when I found I’d already reached the bone. So, my dear old friend had a bit of a thing for young boys, I never would have guessed that.

I’d always considered her to be sexless. I never remembered her having any boyfriend when she was younger. Perhaps the bitch’s crusty old sponge cave wasn’t as dried up as I always thought. Not really the best thing to consider while I was preparing food so I thought of something a little more pleasant.

I over the arm and sawed through the bone, in a firm but smooth action, not stopping until the teeth reached the flesh on the other side. I then grabbed my knife and cut through the remaining flesh, not really wanting to finish off the job with the saw. As far as I was concerned, David had been punished enough.

Mrs Harper was too busy enjoying the feel of the hair to notice I had stopped. Her fingers were making temporary ringlets in the boy’s golden locks. I picked up my clothes iron, made sure it was still on the highest setting and then wondered if she’d notice if I pressed the plate on those skeletal fingers, or, even better, against her cheek.

She then ruined my little fantasy by opening one eye. Was that a coincidence or was her instinct of self-preservation so finely tuned? I smiled back at her before pressing the plate firmly against the stump. The stink of cooking flesh filled the shed, making my stomach growl. “Now, I think it’s time for that cup of tea, Mrs Harper. I might even have some chocolate cake too.”

The other woman smacked her lips, her fingers walked across the worktop and stroked the handle of my curved knife. “That does sound like a splendid idea, Mellissa. Shall we retire to your kitchen?”

I grinned, while picking up the severed arm. I took out a piece of white cloth and wrapped up the bleeding limb before walking over to the door and opening it for Diana. “After you, my dear.”

She grinned a secret grin before squeezing past me.

I did notice the smirk but thought nothing of it. I guess I was too excited with the prospect of the Gala organiser sampling my delicious stew later on tonight. There was also the equally exciting prospect of getting up close and very personal with a new friend.

It was my turn to grin a secret grin. The woman in front of me didn’t see the smile.

Unlike Mrs Harper’s dirty old sponge cave, I keep mine in tip top shape. Oh, it’s not like I use my children. Well, I do, but not in that way. You see, I have a little friend. I call him Henry, named after my husband’s sexy younger brother. Hmm, okay, he used to be sexy, back when I was dating his kid brother, but that’s another story.

Henry, you see, used to be Stephen. Well, it was once part of Stephen. That young man kindly donated his right femur and, until a certain recent development, has given me untold hours of sexual pleasure for over nine years. I even knitted Henry a lovely little sock which I hang on the end of my bed. I’ve decided to try inserting Stuart’s arm-bone into my sponge cave for the foreseeable future. After all, it was the Man himself who preached that a change was always good for the soul.

It is just a shame that Mrs Harper never bothered to listen to that valuable piece of advice. Still, a change was coming for the woman whether she liked it or not. After that lovely Mrs Gloria Price tasted my stew, there’s no chance that Diana Harper would ever hold the Happy Day Scythe ever again.

Once I’d made sure that the woman was comfortable and unable to cause any mischief, I hurried into the kitchen, placed the severed arm on a plate and covered it with a tea towel before finishing off the two teas. I lied about the chocolate cake though. I did have some left, but I wasn't going to share it with her.

I still had a good few hours before my special guest was due to arrive, so it gave me plenty of time to get rid of this one, after I’d made her feel smaller than a mouse before finishing off the my lovely stew.

“It is two sugars still?” I inquired, bringing the two teas into the lobby. It didn’t really matter if the old witch had changed how she liked her tea, I wasn’t going back now. She could either like it or lump it.

“You know me too well,” she replied, taking the tea out of my hand.

It did annoy me a tad to see how easily she managed to grab the cup without burning her skin, despite me making it purposely difficult for her. The woman gently put the cup on my polished table without using a mat. That irked me. Why did I not see that one coming?

“Have you spat in this, Mellissa?”

I giggled. “You know me too well,” I said, repeating her words and her mocking tone.

She shrugged, picking up the cup. “Not that I really care.” She took a single noisy sip.” Mmm, very refreshing.”

“I’m so glad that you’re enjoying it, honey. Now, shall I show you the secret to my stew?”

The woman paused in mid sip. “Wait, why are you still grinning? What have you done to this tea?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I not mention I had to use some menstrual blood to flavour it? Oh dear, terribly sorry about that.”

Mrs Harper burst out laughing. She stood up and approached me. “Oh, now that is a funny one, dear. Worthy of the Man and his cat. You’re sixty-eight next month, dearie. I bet your stinking twat hasn’t seen any of the red stuff in over two decades.”

I nodded in agreement. “Sure, you have got me yet again, honey. Come on, let’s get this meat off that bone.” She trailed behind me and I listened to her quiet giggling while so trying not to laugh myself. I wasn’t lying when I said I added in a little more flavour. You see, I had to discipline that very naughty Susan Bennett as well for trying to help that nasty little boy from trying to escape. I don’t know what came over me. You see, that was the recent development. I punished her with my Henry. Of course I knew it was her time of the month, after all, I’m the one who has to clean up after them. Even so, after Henry and I had finished, there was rather a lot of blood between her legs. Looking back, I might have been a bit too violent with my thrusts. Still, I don’t think she’ll be doing anything so unexpected again. The blood came in handy too. That’s just like me though, never throwing anything away.

It was so nice to be on the plinth above Mrs Harper for a change, even if she did believe the opposite. The way I saw it, nothing else could go wrong today. This horrible woman would soon be leaving my house, knowing full well that for the first time in years, she would be a complete non-entity in Brutality’s annual Gala while her rival would actually have the Happy Day Scythe clasped between my breasts.

“Okay, first, we need to de-flesh the bone. I’m sure that won’t be a problem for someone like you, honey.” I turned around, expecting her to be just behind me, hanging on to my every word. Instead, the annoying woman stood over my sink staring out of the window. “Diana, the meat is over here.”

She swung her head, that condescending smile back on her dirty little face.

“Oh, goodness me, I totally forgot to mention that I bumped into Gloria Price on my way over, honey. I said that you’d just love to meet her a couple of hours earlier.” That grin widened. “I hope you don’t mind.”

The blood drained from my face. How could she do this to me? Oh no, even the Man and his cat wouldn’t be able to pull me out of this mess. How could I possible keep that woman entertained while my stew cooked? I stared aghast at this evil, nasty, dirty woman. How could I possibly keep Gloria Price entertained while that woman stood over my shoulder, cackling like some demented harpy?

I marched right up to her. “You know what, Diana Harper? I so wish I had thrust my curved knife right into your deceitful face when I had the chance,” I spat.

The woman just giggled. “Perhaps you should have, honey. It would have stopped me from kicking that rather sharp knife over to your two rather angry captives.”

“On no. Please tell me you’re lying.”

She shook her head slowly from side to side before turning back towards the window. “Well, bless the Man and his cat. I do believe that’s Mrs Gloria Price walking up your garden path, honey. Do you want me to let her in? I don’t mind, I know you’re probably feeling just a pinch of panic worming through your guts about now.”

I looked at the uncovered arm, watching a droplet of blood roll onto the plate, hearing the dreaded knock upon my front door. I couldn’t move, terror had frozen me in place.

“Oh I’ll get that, honey,” said Mrs Harper.

That smug, false contented tone drilled into my head. I saw my hand reaching for the arm, my fingers folding over the thin wrist. The sound of the door opening and Mrs Harper bringing the woman who I had worked so hard to impress into my kitchen. I knew they were there, the pair of them. That horrible witch still wearing her smug ‘you’ll never get anything over me’ expression and Mrs Gloria Price, no doubt wondering why I wasn’t already on my knees and kissing her fucking feet.

“Oh my, Mrs Mellissa Whitehouse, that broth does smell good.”

The arm no longer held its temperature. It now felt like I was holding a pig’s trotter. The tips of my fingers caressed the underside while I listened to their breathing. They obviously expected me to speak right about now, to either welcome her into my humble dwelling or maybe to thank her for the compliment. In truth, I just wanted to ram this severed arm into the mouth that next opened, the wet side first.

“I feel that despite an earlier conversation, my new arrival time was not expected by both parties?”

The tension in my kitchen dropped like a curtain. I heard the sounds of alarm escaping from Mrs Harper’s mouth in the form of rapid panting. It actually made me find enough energy to remove my fingers from the meat and to create just a sliver of a smile on my face. I turned around. “I honestly had no idea you would be arriving at this time, Mrs Price.” I lowered my head and gazed at my feet. Preferring to silently criticise myself for bringing mud in from the garden than feel those judging eyes making me feel like I was back at school.

“Not to worry, Mrs Whitehouse. I can wait, and from what my nose is telling me, I suspect the wait will be worth it.”

After that encouraging statement, I did pluck up enough courage to face the woman who had the power to elevate me to this year’s Happy Day Scythe wielder. She wasn’t even upset with me! So much for the judging eyes. Oh my, thank the Man. Mrs Harper had not ruined this day after all.

“I won’t lie here, Mellissa. May I call you Mellissa? I might have even done a little dance in my bedroom, this morning, when word got around that you were going to prepare your stew.”

That scythe was as good as mine and there was nothing Mrs Harper could say or do to stop this momentous occasion from happening. “You’re too kind, Mrs Price, really you are.”

“Oh please, you can stop being so formal. I suspect that you and I are going to be such good friends. Call me Gloria.”

“She’s got live stock in her shed!” blurted the other woman. Mrs Harper spun around and ran over to the window on the far side of the kitchen. “And they’ve somehow escaped.”

If fear hadn’t just gripped every part of my flesh, I might have found the change in Gloria’s posture hilarious. It was obviously a trick of the light but her already massive frame seemed to expand in all directions. Mrs Gloria Price’s stern face gazed down at Mrs Harper and me, her eyes peeling away the layers of my soul. I started to twitch, unable to help myself.

“Well, this is a bit of a predicament.”

She might have whispered those words but it felt like she’d just deafened me. She pushed her hand inside the folds of that black cloak and pulled out a long serrated blade. Oh the Man and his cat! Was that meant for us two? My fumbling fingers found the handle to my cutlery drawer at exactly the same time she released this really strange noise. It took me a moment to realise she’d just chuckled.

“Isn’t this turning out to be a fabulous and unexpected occasion?”

Mrs Harper smiled her secret smile. The horrid bitch had won and she knew it. Thanks to her my life was completely ruined.

“I haven’t been on a hunt since I was a child,” said Mrs Price. “I’m so going to enjoy wetting my blade.”

I opened the cutlery drawer and selected two serrated knives, giving the longer one to Mrs Harper while trying not to burst into tears.

The old woman then placed her hand between my breasts. “No. You stay right here.” She took the shorter knife out of my hand then dropped it back into my drawer. “Mrs Harper and I can deal with this. I came to enjoy the delights of your stew and by golly, that is exactly what I intend to do.”

Having said her piece, Mrs Gloria Price turned and marched towards the door which led to my back garden, leaving me alone with my misery. Only I wasn’t quite alone. Mrs Harper still lingered. No doubt feeding off the utter retched emotion clinging to my body like morning dew.

“Come along, Mrs Harper. Don’t dally.”

The nasty witch had done it once again. After all this palaver, it’s obvious that the conniving old woman would end up with the Gala’s grand prize yet again. I almost felt like just giving up. No, I wasn’t going to let her see me like that. No way. I would smile my way through this, no matter what.

I picked up the severed arm and placed it on the chopping board with the little fingers facing the tiles. Then selected the sharpest knife from my wooden block.

This really wasn’t fair. Ever since we were kids, that Diana always had to be the best at everything, no matter what. Did the Man and his cat hate me that much? Yeah well, fuck Mrs Harper and the horse she rode in on. It didn’t matter how many lies that woman spouted or how many times she won the right to hold the Happy Day Scythe, the bitch would never, ever top my stew.

Several seconds of silence passed me by while I began to carefully slice through the skin and flesh so I could pop out the bone. Only the room didn’t give off its usual Zen calmness. At first, I assumed the foul vapours from Mrs Harper’s presence were making me twitchy. I pushed my thumb and forefinger into the still warm meat and slid my fingers around the wet bone. I stopped dead, as a freezing shiver travelled down my back. There wasn’t anything wrong with my instincts at all!

A long shadow loomed over me. I pulled my fingers out of the flesh and tried to grab the blade but my bloodied digits slipped off the handle just before a hand whipped forward and batted the knife to the other end of the counter.

Before I had time to react, I felt fingers digging into my shoulders. The next thing I knew, I’d been spun around coming face to face with the snarling face of Susan Bennett. Her eyes flickered to the severed arm. She opened her mouth and her wailing voice filled my kitchen.

She lunged forward, her big hands wrapping around my neck. I had totally forgotten how quick this one was. My vision started to grey out. I tried to move those hands, but she held me tighter than the vice I used on Stuart. I then saw the immediate future of  this nasty girl standing over my still body just as those two women walked back into my kitchen. Mrs Price was upset but I didn’t see that. All I saw was the look of joy spread across the face of Diana Harper.

I slammed my foot up between the girl’s legs before I totally lost all the strength to do anything. The grip on my neck loosened but she didn’t let go until I booted her again. I tried to call her every swearword I knew, but nothing came out of my mouth but a harsh gasp, so I spoke to her with my knife instead.

I gazed down at this wretched girl, now on her knees, her hands cradling her private parts. I know that I had damaged her with the bone so my two kicks obviously must have ruptured her. Not that I particularly cared about her well-being. She didn’t care for mine. I wiped my bloodied hand in her hair then picked up my knife. Susan was in too much agony to even notice the addition of the razor-sharp blade now in my possession.

I gripped the hair then pulled her head back. It only took one rapid stroke to open a long slit in her forehead. I’m very skilled with a knife as this girl was about to discover. I fully intended to peel off her face and pulled the scalp back over the girl’s gleaming skull. A thin film of blood had already run into her eyes.

“Wait!”

I jerked my head up, to find the other two had already returned. Mrs Price held the escaped boy by his hair while Mrs Harper held the boy’s severed ears. Mrs Price dropped the groaning boy on the floor and rushed over to me, her face a picture of worry and concern. She pushed Susan to the side and gently examined my neck.

“Oh, you poor child,” she said. “Did this little harpy do that to you?” She took a deep breath. “Are you badly hurt?”

I shook my head, still not able to speak.

“What a calamity. Mrs Harper, you bring that child over here right now.” She stood and straightened her back. “Okay, my friend. One of these children is going to die right here and now. Mrs Whitehouse, I want you to pick one.”

Like there was even any doubt. I pointed to the girl. The two woman each grabbed an arm while I continued cutting. First, I lengthened the cut I’d already made, extending it all the way up to her ears. The girl’s blood seeping from the slit made it difficult for my fingers to get a purchase on the flap of skin under the cut. In the end, I had to wipe away as much mess as I could before making two more cuts in front of her ears. I was then able to pinch the skin together just above her eyes.

Her howling had given me such a headache but I persevered, knowing she’d soon cease making that unearthly racket. I nodded to the two woman who then pulled hard on the girl’s wrists. I heard her plead, to ask for forgiveness just before I jerked my clenched fingers down, pulling the thin skin past her eyes and halfway down her nose before the bloodied skin between my fingers tore. Still, it wasn’t a bad effort.

I wiped my hands before pushing past the lot of them and sitting down in my favourite armchair. A cold glass full of water appeared beside my hand.

“Here you go,” said Mrs Price. “Sip this, it will help to take the swelling down.” The woman sat beside me while Mrs Harper took up position in front of us. “I think that Mrs Harper has something to say to you.”

My friend took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“You do know that the Happy Day Scythe will be yours to hold at next week’s gala.”

I think my confusion showed as Mrs Price then told me that Mrs Harper had confessed to the little prank in the shed. That’s exactly the words she used too. Like finding one of my livestock trying to murder me wasn’t of much consequence.

“You have both provided a vital service to our lovely town.” She stared at me then at Diana. “And I should have stepped in years ago. But, in my pride, I thought you’d eventually settle your minor differences.” She stood up. Well, this is what happens, ladies. Mrs Harper, as recompense, because you are totally responsible for the loss of Mrs Whitehouse’s livestock, you are to sell all of your stock and give the proceeds straight to Mrs Whitehouse.”

“Wait a minute!” screeched Mrs Harper. “That’s not fair, besides, she still has one left. He’s not too damaged.”

I held up my hand.

Mrs Gloria Price switched her attention to me. “Does that deal not sit well?”

I shook my head, listening to the quiet moans coming from the earless boy. After all the noise that erupted from his now dead companion and Mrs Harper’s sudden squawk, even his snivelling played hell with my headache. I was so close to stuffing those ears right down his throat. I pointed to Mrs Harper then at the boy and shook my head again.

That was not going to happen. My suppliers demanded quality from me. There was no way that I wanted them to have to deal with her inferior rubbish. I’d just have to make sure that I sweet talk the nice Mr Cartwright as soon as my voice returns.

Mrs Price shrugged. “It’s not a problem. We can sort this out once you’re able to speak again. Now, I do have a surprise for you, my dear.” She wound her fingers through the boy’s hair and pulled him up onto his feet. “I did promise you the Happy Day Scythe, well, this year, you’re going to use it too. Just for this year, I’m going to authorise the use of the gutting stool.”

Oh my! I think I was going to faint at the excitement of it all. In front of every Brutality-born inhabitant, they would chain this little boy’s arms and legs to the stone wheel which sat in the middle of the town square and while he stared into the sky, I would draw the Happy Day Scythe along his distended stomach. I grinned at Mrs Sour Puss Harper while imagining that it would be her chained to the wheel.

“I do have a little favour to ask of you, Mrs Whitehouse. Once you have removed that bone, do you think I might have it?”

I do believe that Mrs Price was blushing. I smiled back and nodded. I had no problem with that. After all, Stuart did have another arm.

The End

POISONED

By

Ian Woodhead

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright Ian Woodhead, May 2016

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, scanning or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.

This is an extreme horror tale – you have been warned

Acknowledgements

A big thank you to the following people who took time to beta read this story. You all rock, seriously!

Deb Yarbrough

Mandi Pickett

Max Smith

Lisa Redden

Anna Garcia-Center

Kyle M Scott

Kelly Mead

During the first few hours of my arrival to this town, I bathed in the power of the Lord’s light. I know he works in his own mysterious way and it is not down to lowly mortals to question his suggestions. Still, I would have preferred a few more days to prepare.

Rumours of this forgotten little town reached my ears months ago. At first, I dismissed them as fairy tales, a tabloid scare story, written by some lazy hack, seeking to cash in on people’s fears. The tales persisted, whispered in confidence, through confession, slipping out from the lips of people that I trusted not to lie and finally through video footage, discovered on some obscure website.

I’ll admit, the flimsy evidence should not have sucked me in but, alas, my inflamed curiosity needed satisfying. So after little preparation and some harsh but resigned words from my bishop, I set out to track down this supposed town of the damned.

It wasn’t until the next day when I found my myself walking down the deserted streets of Brutality that I had to wonder if my search had been a little too easy? Of course, as a man of God, I obviously put the ease of discovery down to providence, that perhaps I had found my calling.

After reading everything I could about Brutality, I knew these damned souls could not be allowed to live out the afterlife in hell. I had to find some way to save them, even if I could save but one soul, that alone would be a result.

Now though, the Lord has supplied me with a slightly different agenda, one which does not deviate much from my original plan, but it has opened me up to considerably more danger and yet this still fills my heart with utter joy.

Once the inhabitants realise my hidden intention, it could result in this pit of vipers hunting me down.

I have seen what they do to their victims and there is no doubt that Brutality’s homeborn will show me the same courtesy. I will stay strong though, as I know that even if I fall, the Lord will send other men of the cloth to pick up the work that I have started here.

I know this because he told me.

---

The blazing sun bakes the roads and pavement. Birds, perched in the bare trees, serenade me as I stride along Brutality’s main high street. Delicious aromas of fresh baked bread caress my nose. I hear children’s laughter coming from the park across the road and idle chatter from passing shoppers. Two of them even pause to offer me a polite nod. I smile in return.

First impressions portray a perfectly ordinary mid-sized English town and I believe that this portrait has been very carefully cultivated throughout the years, perhaps even longer for there is the taint of ancient evil here infecting the very brickwork.

It does not take much to dislodge the mask. The laughter? That will be kids poking a frog with sharp sticks. The chatter from the two women? They’ll be discussing the most efficient method to dispose of a body.

Please don’t take my commentary as ravings from a delusional young man. I have witnessed these atrocities , and with God’s blessing, I have acted upon it. In the four weeks since becoming Brutality’s newest parish priest, I have murdered two men, an old woman and a teenage boy.

So how can I condemn a full town of sinners? Obviously, it isn’t possible. The thieves, child abusers, the adulterers and the abductors will find judgement from the Lord once they stand before him to recite their crimes.

I am only here for the truly evil, the individuals who take another human life, for I am the Lord’s instrument and I shall give no quarter. I will carry out my holy order until I am no longer able.

---

“That was such a loving service, Father!”

I gave Mrs Brady a patronising smile. I had spotted the elderly lady leave the betting office but I assumed she would take a left and vanish into the Shop and Save, like she did every day. “Thank you for that wonderful chocolate cake,” I replied. It hurt me to lie to her but I dare not allow anything this woman created to enter my mouth. Mrs Brady sprinkled dried dog faeces and powdered glass into a cake that she baked for a party held for her next door neighbour’s seven year old daughter.  Three children were taken to hospital two days later.

Thankfully, none of them died, meaning that this woman would be able to wake and witness another dawn. Mrs Brady’s sister though, well that was another matter. Edna Brady lay on a stone slab under my church. Her naked body currently twisting and writhing as the slow acting poison I injected into the woman’s neck did its duty.

The woman would undergo her agonising contortions for a few more hours before her soul left to stand trial before our Lord.

“Yes, I found it very moving. In fact, I do believe that I might have even shed a couple of tears.”

“Your kind words lighten my heart, Mrs Brady. I can only hope that you take heed in my parable and perhaps learn from the mistakes made by the main protagonist?”

The woman nodded solemnly but I knew in my heart that she had no clue to the real meaning behind the words from my service. How could she? Like the rest of the town, they were trapped within the machinery that operates this foul pestilence.

However, this did not stop me from trying to help some of these poor unfortunate people, even if my actions did prove somewhat wasted. I saw it as the flip-side to the good work I did perform in Brutality, namely the eventual extermination of every single killer who resided in this town.

“I just wish my sister had been able to hear your words, Father. I’m not afraid to tell you that I am becoming a little worried for her now. It has been almost a day.”

“If Edna does not return in the morning when we have mass, the whole congregation shall pray for her.”

The chances are that her sister did hear the rather emotional speech he improvised in front of his congregation of eighty-four people. The acoustics in that ancient chamber, below the church floor was excellent.

The old woman said her farewells and resumed her usual routine. I watched her vanish into the grocery store while I wondered how the Lord would react to me extending my good work to include the sinners who hadn’t killed.

The Lord himself had brought me to the church and gave me my already assembled group of parishioners. It was just one of the many gifts that he bestowed upon me in order to carry out my sacred duty.

On the second morning of my arrival in Brutality, my wandering brought me out of the town centre, past a large, grey factory complex, surrounded by a high wire-mesh fence and into a graveyard. I had no idea where my feet would be taking me. My mind was still reeling from my vision during the night, also this morning, Brutality hid her body behind thick rolling fog. I passed no other person in my brief travelling and I think this was intentional. It meant that I could proceed to my new domicile without hindrance and distraction.

The fog parted like the Red Sea to reveal what appeared to be a large, three storey abandoned church. First impressions led me to consider that nobody had been anywhere near this place for decades. First impressions were a fickle lady, for even before I pushed myself through the overgrown vegetation to reach those high double doors, I noticed two older women standing beside an iron gate, hiding inside bramble. They both waved to me.

By the time I reached the front doors, the path behind me no longer looked like a green carpet of weeds and moss and I now saw a large wall surrounding the church boundary and even the bramble around the gate had gone. The two women acted as though vanishing vegetation happened everyday.

The Lord said he would deliver unto me the implements required to purge this town of evil and so it came into being.  The first of my congregation, The Brady sisters, welcomed me into Brutality and said they would look forward to my first mass.

It wasn’t until they had gone; leaving me to explore my new home when it sunk in that the pair of them already knew my name. I saw no reason to question their knowledge, as the transfer worked both ways. I saw the younger woman’s dirty trick with the cake as well as her older sister bludgeoning a visiting postman with a golf club then setting fire to his unconscious body.

She’d committed this atrocity simply because the man had parked his van directly outside their house and she believed the gases from his exhaust would kill the flowers in her garden.

My belief is that I was the first good man to set foot inside this abandoned stone corpse. The first Christian, that much, I am sure of. The miracles commenced by the Lord on the outside of the church continued their divine transformation on the inside, banishing whatever Pagan blasphemy these infidels committed in this building.

I explored, I fasted and I meditated, staying inside these walls for three nights and two days, until on the seventh day, I opened the doors to find my flock waiting to hear my first sermon, a task that I eagerly anticipated.

---

Mrs Brady left the grocery store, a couple of minutes later. She had bought a tin of peas and a newspaper while the inside pocket in her long purple coat held a small joint of beef. I wished her a good day before I turned and strolled towards the park. The Lord was now my constant companion, softly whispering their crimes to me.

These souls had been feeding on this town’s blood for far too long. I saw myself as Brutality’s conscience and their abnormal behaviour was going to  alter or they would face the consequences. The Lord dealt with their everlasting spirit while I dealt with their earthly body. It was a very good arrangement.

The glorious sunshine had not brought a crowd to the park, as you would expect. As I reached the low stone wall, I saw no pram pushers, no ice cream van, no workers feeding bread to the ducks and no small children enjoying themselves on the playground equipment. This is Brutality though, so normality does not apply. Nobody played here, except for the older teenage boys, and there were no ducks because the boys had killed them.

I saw the three of them busy carving their names in one of the remaining trees. I waved. They waved back, and the Lord informed me that the weed infested pond now contained the body of another dog.

He then chronicled in implicit detail exactly how those waving boys used their sharp knives on that poor black and white terrier. When the Lord reached the point where the youngest boy pushed his blade up the dog’s already bleeding anus, I had to take a deep breath. It almost made me place young Jack Brown on my ever-growing list of individuals already awaiting execution.

I do despise animal cruelty.

Until last week, the trio was a quartet. All that changed when the four boys attended my second mass. The Lord only hinted at the tragedy and malice that my assembled congregation inflicted upon each other and the passing innocents in my first mass.

The Lord failed to indicate which sinner I should separate from their souls. I was aware of the older Brady sister’s killing but I wished to leave her until I was sure of her crime.

I did not; of course doubt the Lord, to do so would mean that everything that we have created here meant nothing, that it was all some cruel illusion. Or even worse, it wasn’t my Lord controlling me but the  great beast, that I was his tool, that I would be committing the ultimate sin in the name of Satan.

The doubts did fade away during the next few days until my second service where they resurfaced. I found myself looking down on these total strangers questioning everything that the Lord had shown me in the past week. I think, this is the reason as to why our relationship deepened.

I gazed down at those four smirking boys. Unlike the rest of the congregation, none of them were paying any attention to my words, although I will give them a little bit of credit, they were keeping quiet, to a point.

The words for my closing speech died on my tongue when I found my eyes watching a scene of total depravity. Two naked figures were fighting on a pale green bed cover. A large teenage male pulled back his arm and slammed his fist into the nose of a much younger and smaller dark haired girl.

She cried out, only for her breath to explode from her mouth when he followed the first punch by hitting the girl in the guts. All I could hear at this point was heavy breathing and well as a curious tapping sound. I took my gaze from the scene on the bed and saw a much older woman, her age approximate to mine, banging the side of a wooden armchair with long scarlet nails. She grinned a wolf’s smile before picking up a reporter’s notepad and a pencil and started to write.

I confess, I was very scared at this moment, not knowing where I was or what was happening to me. By now, the boy had flipped the crying girl onto her front and kicked her legs apart.

The howl which erupted from that poor girl’s mouth when his large penis penetrated her private area still makes me weep. The woman furiously scribbled away while the boy pounded his flesh against her quivering body. I wanted to get out of here, to return to my service but my eyes refused to close and all I could hear were three distinct noises – her pencil dancing over the paper, flesh slapping against flesh and a low moan emanating from that poor girl’s mouth. It was at the moment, the point where I felt insanity knocking upon my door, when I heard the voice of the Lord.

I welcomed him with open arms and a glad heart, expecting him to whisk me away from this debauchery. Only he didn’t. The Lord told me to look to my left, to where I saw a length of steel pipe, shaped to a point at one end. The Lord then informed me that once Patrick Hartwell had finished fucking that hole, he would use the pipe to make more holes in her body to fuck. This, he would continue to do until the girl had finally given up on life.

The Lord then took me back to my service. I was so thankful to him he did not make me stay until the end. I do not believe I would have been able to withstand witnessing such evil.

With much restraint and a large amount of self-control, I was able to reach the end of my second service without anymore interruptions. As I watched Patrick Hartwell and his three other friends leave my church, giggling and hitting each other, I knew that he would be the first inhabitant of Brutality to feel the wrath of holy justice.

---

I left the three boys to their carving, giving them one final wave before I continued on my journey and just then, I craved ice-cream, a large cone, topped with soft vanilla flavoured ice-cream and a flake to finish it off. Perhaps once the Lord and I have made my new town into a happy place to live, I might then be able to stroll through this park without having to worry about bloated dog corpses floating to the surface and infecting the surrounding atmosphere with its decomposing gases. I also might be able to buy a rather nice ice-cream.

Walking along Blackberry Street takes me back into the centre of town, passing through Brutality’s unusual square which houses its five ethnic and the single English restaurant, three on each side. This area is where the sinners finish their night of whoring and drinking. It is also where the two men, my other dead sinners once worked.

The Lord revealed their crimes to me at my third service, two days ago and believe me, those fiends certainly received what they deserved

First though, allow me to backtrack to the boy, to Patrick Hartwell. I remember looking down at his naked body, lying on my stone slab in the middle of the chamber and I did wonder how such a feeble looking specimen had been able to inflict so much damage to that poor innocent little girl. This cowardly animal had stolen her innocence, her youth and her dreams and gave her the unwelcome gift of utter terror to take with her as she left this realm.

It was only right that I should give the gift back to Patrick. As I mentioned, the Lord would torment the souls I gave him but only after I punished the flesh. The Lord which gave me solace and guided my actions had obviously disregarded the teaching in the New Testament and I had no problems with that.

Only the boy’s eyes moved. They followed me around the chamber as I collected the tools I needed. Sweat poured down my forehead and my heart raced but the Lord was still there, issuing comforting words, telling me I was doing just fine and that the task would be easier once I had taken the first step. I nodded, knowing that he was correct. After all, he was the Lord and his wisdom knew no bounds.

Patrick’s eyes gazed up at me, flickering briefly from the chisel and hammer I held in my hands. Thanks to the Lord’s teachings, my tools would cause the maximum amount of pain to the boy without him being able to do anything about it. Patrick wouldn’t even be able to scream.

Several hours earlier, I walked into one of the several pharmacies in Brutality. I smiled then passed the pretty assistant an A6 sheet of white paper, with the ingredients I needed, written in green ink. The Lord assured me that I would have no problem in procuring all of the products on the list despite me knowing for a fact that several of the chemicals were banned in most western countries. The girl didn’t even blink an eye. She hurried into the backroom and promptly returned with all the products. As I left the shop, it did occur to me that I probably wasn’t going to be the only poison maker to smile at  the assistant this week.

Laying the chisel on his stomach, I moved his flaccid penis to the side, raised the hammer them brought it down hard on his left testicle. There was very little resistance. Looking at the thick blood filling up the deep cracks in the stone, I then knew that Patrick wasn’t the only sinner who would be meeting his end on this alter. I also discovered that the Lord was correct. The first blow was the toughest.

I smashed his other testicle against the stone before repeating the action on the head of his penis. I had no qualms about carrying on. The boy’s eyes had now rolled up into his head. The shock hadn’t killed him though. I will admit,  that was an event that did concern me. With me being new to this profession, I did not know just how much suffering the body could withstand before shutting down.

His chest rose and fell. This was all the evidence that I needed. I picked up  the chisel, opened his jaw as much as I could then rested the tip of the chisel against the base of the first two front teeth. I hit the handle but the blade slipped. The chisel tore through Patrick’s gums. I hadn’t expected that to happen. Still, as this was my first sinner, I allowed myself this one mistake. I took a moment to compose myself then tried a different tactic. I broke his teeth using only the hammer instead.

The tool did not go to waste, however. I found it very effective at removing every one of Patrick’s fingers. I left the thumbs where they were. By now, the slab had become very messy. The puddles of thick blood gathering around the slab made it dangerous to get close to him, and yet he still lived.

At this point, I was at a loss as to how I should proceed. I did consider snipping off his toes because the  amount of blood wasn’t as bad around the area by Patrick’s feet.

It was at this moment when he did die. His chest ceased to move and I was left with my first corpse. The Lord wasn’t too pleased. He thundered in anger, telling me that I could have made the torment last much longer if I had only turned his head to the side. The boy had choked on his own teeth. I apologised and promise to perform better on the next sinner. The Lord granted me a reprieve and calmed down a bit.

---

I have never been too comfortable with eating food other people have cooked for me, so it is unlikely that I would ever visit any of these restaurants, at least from a customer perspective, that is. The staff in five of the restaurants do not follow my faith so I have had no dealings with them.

Four of the staff members from The Cosy Diner, a restaurant that specialised in old fashioned home cooked style meals, attended my service. It was from the two of them that I gleaned a piece of invaluable information about this town.

They had been told the legend that Brutality did not only contain the largest collection of deranged humans on the planet, this town also housed another more unpleasant surprise. This town was built on another settlement, a far older town, dating back to before the last ice-age. As incredible as it sounded, the humans on the surface were not the sole intelligent creatures here. A smattering of the prior inhabitants still struggled to survive under the streets. Not only that, an earlier race, even older than the prior inhabitants lived in endless miles of ancient tunnels which riddled the ground below the settlement.

Not every sinner believed this. Even so, enough of them took measures to ensure these so called first ones did not venture onto the surface and steal their young. It was inevitable that the psychotic locals believed that anything living below the surface was bound to be vicious hunters, feasting only on the warm flesh of anything they could catch. If they couldn’t catch it, then carrion would suffice.

Was this some twisted fairy tale, tainted and made dirty to suit their depraved minds? Perhaps it was but this didn’t stop the owners of these restaurants from disposing of their unwanted food through large pipes which led from these buildings directly into the ground below his feet.

It also might explain another mystery which has happened to me twice now.

I thrust my hands into the deep pockets of my coat and wandered down the empty streets, trying not to allow my stomach to be tempted by any of the delicious aromas coming from their kitchens.

---

The chamber where I have done the killing still remains exactly like I found it. The rest of my church now looks very similar to a small town church where I once lived. I find it peaceful and serene. It felt like home.

It is only when I descend into the bowels of the church that I grow cold; when I find that I need the soothing company of the Lord more than ever.

Deep, jagged markings are etched into the granite surfaces. They cover every square metre. The only stone that is free of these terrible looking marks is a circular area, about seven feet in diameter. This is where the raised stone slab sits, exactly in the middle.

After when I had heard these tales, I did not believe them. How could any good Christian believe such rubbish that man was not the first sentient being to walk upon God’s green earth? Yet, walking into this pit, the strength of my belief begins to wan. I run my cold fingers along the stone and I see some prehistoric sub-human beast fashioning this chamber for their own vile purposes.

Call it hysterical fantasy if you will, for where is the evidence of any of this? I would agree if it was not for one small matter.

Patrick Hartwell’s body had vanished. I left it lying on that slab, cold as ice and as stiff as the stone around it. I planned to dismember the corpse and bury the pieces somewhere. I was going to buy a woodchipper but, sadly, I find nowhere in this town which sold them. Until I could find time to purchase my desired equipment from out of town. Burying the pieces would be my best option.

I locked the chamber and I ensured the church doors were locked as well before I retired to the rectory. No one entered the building, at least not from any normal entrances. Yet, Patrick’s body was no longer on the slab when I returned the next morning. I’ll confess that I might have screamed, my mind seeing my imaginary monstrous ape-like creatures dislodging the thick stone slabs that I walked upon, climbing into the chamber, their sulphurous eyes glowing in the darkness, grunting in excitement while they effortlessly pulled the small body back below the ground to consume in their caves.

While it does sound rather silly in the retelling, the fact remains, that his body did vanish.

The corpses of the two other sinners that I killed met the same fate as well. So, perhaps it isn’t as silly as it sounds?

---

I continue on my journey back into town, approaching the high street from the opposite direction. If I am not stopped by another member of my congregation, I will reach my eventual destination in the next few minutes. I take this route on most mornings, in order to purchase my daily provisions from Mr Cartwright. A pleasant chap, who owns one of Brutality’s other mini-market. Although the prices are more expensive than the Shop and Save, the quality of food there is certainly better and on a plus side, most of the food he stocks on his shelves come from outside town. So far, the Lord has revealed nothing to me regarding this imposing grey-haired individual so perhaps he might even be one of the very few people in Brutality who is not a sinner.

We shall see.

Before I tell the fates of the remaining men, I believe it is important to mention one more event. After the discovery of Patrick’s disappearance, I rushed from the chamber and ran, stumbling down the aisle and dropped to my knees in front of my own pulpit. With hands clasped and my eyes fixed upon the image of our saviour Jesus Christ, I begged for guidance and for answers to this frightening escalation. For the first time since the Lord revealed himself, his voice remained absent.

Had he deserted me? It did feel like that. Tears ran down my cheeks and I furiously prayed for his return, my eyes not leaving the image of Jesus. This was when the second scare of the morning happened to this lowly priest.

Jesus opened his eyes. Yes, the twelve foot stone statue of Jesus opened his eyes. I heard a low creaking noise as his head slowly rose and those dazzling blue eyes found mine. I may have wet myself at the moment.

He told me that the Lord, his Father, was having a bit of a nap and my shouting like some whiny little brat was likely to get me smited.  Jesus also told me to keep up the good work and not to worry about Patrick’s disappearance, for his Father knows what he’s fucking doing. Jesus smiled; the sight filled me with such bliss.

He then finished off his sermon by explaining that at least I wouldn’t have to buy a woodchipper.

With my faith restored, I was able to continue my revered duties, namely preparing myself and my domain for the congregations’ arrival, in three days hence and on the day of my second service, the Lord and I were once again reunited. I will confess that I was rather looking forward to witnessing another member of my congregation’s vile crime. Of course it wasn’t a joy, more of a grim fulfilment, knowing that finally, this unknown person’s poor victim would be able a have closure in the afterlife. I know this because the Lord told me it was so.

My congregation was not as full as it was on the previous week. I also noticed that the atmosphere had darkened somewhat, it felt oppressive, even antagonistic. It was a most unusual sensation. The Lord was beside me though and he gave me the inspiration to start and once the words flowed, the unnerving sensation diminished.

---

Just like the previous occasion, the Lord took me into a bad place. I was able to orientate myself in this experience though. I stood just inside the doors of the Cosy Diner. The restaurant was closed and there was nobody in sight.

The locked door offered no escape so I had to venture further inside the establishment, past the set tables and chairs and towards the closest door to me. The only noise I heard came from the two ceiling fans. As I reached the door, I began to wonder exactly why the Lord had brought me here as I could not see anything out of place.

It then struck me that the feeling of hate, coming from so many people had returned. I blinked and cried in utter shock when I found myself in the midst of a restaurant full of Brutality’s locals, and they were all glaring at me.

Two waiters marched towards me, pushing themselves through the throng of seated people, the men’s faces set with determination. I knew them, or course, as I knew a great many people in here. Of course, I was scared, for these two waiters were not coming towards me, simply to help me find an empty seat. I had little clue as to their intention but I did know it would mean a lot of pain. After all, why else would the Lord show me this scene? I did beg for his council, hoping that he had not left me here to suffer whatever fate these approaching men had in store.

He gave a mighty sigh then, in a very patronising tone, the Lord told me to move four paces to the left. I did as he commanded and saw the waiter’s direction did not alter. I spun around and sighed in relief at the sight of three local men holding down another man. I did not recognise him.

The Lord informed me that David Binns arrived in Brutality yesterday. He is a long distance hauler. He followed a diversion sign which led him away from his intended destination and instead to Brutality earlier today. While two of Brutality’s very attractive females made the big man feel welcome, the contents of David’s trailer were distributed throughout the food.

One of the three men pushed a syringe into the trucker’s neck and the big man’s body went limp. I was right about one thing; the pharmacies certainly did well in supplying illegal substances to the bad, bad people in Brutality. I watched, fascinated as they dragged him over to a table covered in plastic sheeting. By now, everybody in the building had stood up, all watching this performance in silence.

The Lord continued his commentary in my ear as they undressed him before heaving the body onto the plastic covered table.

Malcolm Darcy lived in one of the poorest areas of the town. He was so grateful for the opportunity to get a job here. If the boss hadn’t set him on, he’d have had to work with his horrible dad in the food processing factory on the edge of town. Almost every fucker in Brutality worked at that shithole.

This was the forth time that the boss had allowed him to participate in this ceremony. His gran would be so pleased with the meat he’d be able to take home tonight.

Adam Boyle’s dad owned this restaurant and he so fucking hated having to do this bollocks once every week. As per usual, Malcolm the shitsplat had once again forgotten to wheel the trolley over to the table first so he gave the cunt his glare. It did please him a little to watch their new waiter swallow hard before scurrying over to the bar. One of these days, his dad would end up on this table and if he had his way, it would be sooner than later.

When the Lord pulled me out of their filthy little minds, it took great effort not to release a string of curse words myself. Their coarse language put my teeth on edge. I found no good in either of these individuals. That did upset me a little. I thought that at least some part of my sermon the week before might have taken root. I did not totally despair, for deep down, I knew the task that the Lord had set me would not be easy. It would take a good many more speeches before the people of Brutality began to change their deviant ways.

Not these two though, for their intention was clear. Meaning that within the next couple of days, both Adam and Malcolm would be in my chamber. The trolley which so upset Adam came into my view as Malcolm attempted to wheel it over to the table. It was much bigger that I expected. For some reason, my mind pictured one of those narrow things that passed you in train carriage aisles, where you had to remortgage your house in order to purchase a packet of biscuits and a cup of tea.

This trolley contained a variety of surgical instruments, a collection of metal bowls and, of course, the main reason for its large size, black metal plate which took up half the surface. A small amount of onions and green peppers were already sizzling away on this plate.

Adam grinned when the other waiter stopped the trolley in front of the table, he then passed Malcolm a large bladed knife and they both set about, slicing into the trucker’s stomach as dozens of undamaged stomachs around me rumbled.

The Lord took me back to my congregation, while explaining to me that the trucker lived for several hours, while the two waiters methodically removed small pieces of the man’s soft insides, cooked them in front of the still conscious man before serving the dishes to the waiting customers. The Lord almost sounded as though he approved of such butchery, but I guess my traumatised mind misinterpreted his tone.

---

My destination was in sight and the owner stood next to his outdoor display, wearing his trademark light-brown grocer’s coat, the symbol of his profession. It looked like the man was waiting for my arrival. That gave me a pleasant feeling, to know that the locals were accepting me into their community. I strolled past Brutality’s only cinema, smiling at the titles of the two movies currently showing. Knowing now what I did about the make up of this place of sinners, you would expect to find a constant stream of badly made horror movies showing at their picture house. This week, the double feature was Sound of Music and Gone with the Wind. I knew from past observations that the place would be packed with each showing.

---

Allow me to return to the two waiters.

As you would expect from such a considerate deity, the Lord provided the motive, the means and opportunity to allow me to continue the Great Work. Malcolm and Adam arrived at the church, both claiming they had lost their wallets and who knows? Perhaps they might have dropped them in my last service.

It was odd to hear them say these identical words. The mechanical recital suggested to me that perhaps, the statement had been implanted and if they could only awake from their trance, the pair of them would discover their wallets were still in the back pockets of their jeans. Not that I wanted them to come out of whatever spell the Lord had cast upon their feeble minds.

I invited them in, displaying worry and concern over their missing property, vowing to turn the church upside down in my insidious quest to find these wallets. I took them into my office, allowed them to sit down before serving refreshments. I sat in front of them watching Malcolm and Adam drink the coffee that I had laced with my paralysing poison. It felt appropriate to use the same substance again. After all, it is what the other locals injected into David the  trucker before both Adam and Malcolm got to work on the poor man with their sharp knives.

My office was only a few short steps from the chamber door so I exerted little energy dragging sinful their bodies down there. The Lord hinted that he was still a little miffed at my poor performance with Patrick, so I had to show the Lord that I had learned from my mistakes. I hoped that my plan for these two would prove that the hard work he had put into me, shaping my body and mind to become his force in this town was indeed justified. I might have even helped to put the Lord’s mind at rest by taking my time in the men’s journey into the chamber. You see, I made sure that the backs of their heads bounced of every stone step on my way down.

The poison I used on the two men was far more intricate than the flawed compound injected into David. After all, my ingredient list came straight from God himself. They only needed their victim to be unable to move whereas my compound gave me the freedom to move my victims into any position I desired. They were my own life-sized, fully poseable action figures. I undressed them and manoeuvred their bodies onto the slab.

I decided to position them by sitting them up and having them face each other before I tied their feet together with wire. Believe me; describing this action was a lot easier than the actual task. I was a strong man, but even so, lifting two men who weighed more than me and placing them into the desired position took me almost two hours.

I had my own trolley, which I placed beside the slab so both men could see its exciting contents. I selected the scalpel first and used it to slice off Adam’s left nipple then I repeated the same action on Malcolm.

I believe the men quickly deducted the simple rules of my tit for tat game when I picked up a pair of pliers and squeezed Adam’s right earlobe between the metal jaws and, again, I did the same to the boy’s companion. The Lord commended me on my ingenuity. Suffice to say when, I tore off both of Adam’s eyelids I had a huge smile on my face.

Using this technique, I was able to keep the two men alive for the whole night, while I sawed off their extremities, cut into them, broke bones and burned them.

As I am but a lowly priest with little medical knowledge, I cannot name which of their soft warm organs I cut out from under their ribs. Or course, I know about the heart and its function, so I left that alone.

I do tell a lie. I did recognise the intestine. Using both hands, I pulled that out from Adam’s open cavity, unravelled the wet rope-like organ and hung it around Malcolm’s neck, before repeating the process.

There were many techniques I learned from those two. Some were very effective, others not so much.

I satisfied myself, sated God’s lust for pain and justice, and I expect, pleased the monsters who dwelled beneath the church.

It did not sate my lust though, and that did concern me a little. I think this is why Edna is now fastened to my slab, her body convulsing in agony while my poison slowly dissolves her insides.

I do hope the old woman is still alive when I return. I would so like to perfect the techniques I learnt before I prepare my tea.

---

My next service in three days time promises to be spectacular, and I cannot wait to discover who else will find themselves in my chamber. Could it be the gentleman now grinning at me as I approach the outside of his shop? Personally, I do hope that the Lord does not choose this Mr Cartwright. He is the one individual in Brutality who has treated me with nothing but respect and politeness.

“Father Dickinson. I cannot tell you how it gladdens my heart to find you outside my shop. So once again, you’ve resisted the suspicious delights of the Shop and Save.”

I smiled back. “Sir, you are most kind.” I followed the man into the shop, my mind going over the list I made before setting off. I certainly needed potatoes and carrots as well as some bacon. Next year, I did intend to grow my own vegetables. The land around my church looked fertile enough to grow a wide variety of crops. I could even ask my congregation to help out. If that is, there were any of them left alive once the snows had melted.

The shop was not empty. I stared in confusion when I noticed the owner of the Cosy Diner in here, holding a box of eggs. Since when did Adam’s father shop in here? Still, I nodded a greeting to the man. I know that I had tortured and killed his son but I bore Adam no grievance. I nodded a greeting which he did not return.

I walked passed the next aisle and saw the three boys, all standing in a row, all three of them glaring at me. At this point, I began to feel a uneasy, which only grew worse at the sight of Mrs Brady, holding a copy of Women’s Weekly in her wrinkled hands, her usual look of jollity absent from her face.

I stopped, a few feet from the counter and asked the Lord for guidance. All I received for my plea was a few harsh dark sniggers which quickly faded away.

Mr Cartwright, reached his counter. He rested his big hands upon the surface before nodding once. Before I could react, two men grabbed my arms and forced them behind my back and pushed me savagely over to the counter. I cried out in pain when one of them rabbit punched me.

“That’s enough, Geoff,” said the shop keeper. Let’s do this the proper way here.” He turned his attention to me. “We don’t appreciate uppity strangers coming into our town and upsetting the status quo.”

“But…” a heavy blow to my guts put paid to any other words of protest that I wished to express.”

“Best not talk again, Father. Geoff does like hurting people, you see. Now, I know you must have come to Brutality in the naïve gesture that you could save this town.” He leaned over the counter and grinned, exposing his big teeth. “Thing is, we like the place just like it is and we’ll do everything in our power to stop anyone and everyone from changing it.”

I began to cry when I felt something sharp pierce my neck.

“You ain’t the only freak we’ve had to deal with over the years and I doubt you’ll be the last. Brutality is like some big fucking magnet, you see. We get them all kinds in here. Murderers, rapists, perverts, to name a few. You’re the first avenging vicar we’ve had here though, so well done on that.” He looked over at the woman. “Mrs Brady, what’s the tally of out of town sickos still in Brutality?”

She folded up the magazine and deposited it into her inside coat pocket.

“I hope you’re go to pay for that!”

“Sorry, she said, blushing. “Force of habit.” The old woman unfolded the magazine and put it back on the rack. “Well, there’s Mr Johnson on Eve Street. He ate his wife before fleeing here. There’s also The Parker family who are still camping in the woods behind the church. I believe they robbed three banks before going on the run and ending up here.”

“What about Mary?”

“Yes, Geoff,” she snapped. “I haven’t forgotten about her. There’s also Mary Bennett,” she said, scowling at the man next to me. “She’s been here for over a year now. The only reason why she hasn’t ended up where you are, Father is because she keeps the rat population down.”

The man in front of me placed his thick fingers under my chin and lifted me up. I had stopped crying because my tear ducts no longer functioned. In fact, none of my muscles would obey my commands. I could not even blink.

“And then there’s you, Father,” he said. “Mrs Brady, do you have any words to say to the fiend who murdered your older sister?”

“To be perfectly frank, I’m glad the old bitch is dead. At least now she won’t be able to steal any of my Frank Sinatra records anymore.”

The shop keeper chuckled. “Okay, bring him round here.”

I silently howled in despair, unable to do anything, more helpless than an infant as the men carried me through the back of the shop, heading towards a large door. The shopkeeper pulled down the brass handles and ushered the men down a flight of stone steps.

They had brought me into a chamber identical to the one under my church.

I have never felt more betrayed in my short life. This body betrayed me, this town had betrayed me and most important, my Lord had betrayed me. He had deserted me to this dreadful fate. Right now, I wasn’t even sure that my soul would rejoin him once these evil sinners had done whatever they planned to my flesh.

The men deposited my body on the slab, turned my head to face them and moved back towards the stairs. The shopkeeper approached me. In his hands he now held a large hacksaw. I prayed to the God I no longer trusted to instruct this large man to end my life by beheading me.

“As you’ve discovered, the drugs now circulating through your system acts immediately. Oh, thank you for the new recipe by the way, I don’t know where you came up with that formula but it did make our chemists very excited.” He stopped in front of me. “They told me, your compound has opened up so many opportunities. They tell me that it’s a base product, a model that, with a slight tweak is able to take on additional new properties.”

The man raised his hand then slapped me viciously across the cheek, knocking my head over to the other side. I saw Mrs Brady’s contented expression before the shopkeeper turned my head to face the him again.

“There, you see? You felt nothing. We’ve made your whole body numb. How fantastic is that, Father?” The shopkeeper tied a leather belt around the top of my arm, tightened it then placed the hacksaw a couple of inches below the leather before he commenced sawing. “We don’t have any way of knowing how long this numbness will last, mind, and you have no way of telling us. Still, I guess that’s all part of the excitement.”

He was right, I could not feel anything. I watched him hack off my arms and legs one by one and did not feel any pain whatsoever. I did vaguely wonder exactly how he knew this compound would work. Like he said, nobody would be able to tell them.

I wanted him to finish this off by placing the blade over my throat but instead, he and his companions moved over to the stairs. They all left the chamber one by one until only the shopkeeper remained.

“I think it’s now time for you to meet some pals of ours. They’ll probably start on your dismembered limbs before they get to you, Father. You might get lucky and the drug’s effects won’t wear off before they eat you alive ” He pulled a small grey cube from out of his pocket and pushed it into a recess carved into the stone, beside his shoulder. I watched in fascinated horror as the circular area beneath the slab rolled back, revealing another flight of stairs which led into a blackness.

Freezing air blasted into the chamber.

“It’s time for me to leave now. It’s been fun, Father, it really has but I can’t allow my duties to build up. Besides, leaving Mrs Brady up in my shop alone is going to be very bad for my stock levels.”

I heard him ascend the stairs while I watched several dancing shadows creep into the chamber. I saw tiny grey hands grip the edge of the stone slab, moments before every light in the chamber went out, leaving an oblong of white light in the far top corner of the chamber. I tried once more to shout out, to beg my Lord to save me from this. Instead, I witnessed a flash of a mouthful of needle-like teeth before all light in the chamber disappeared.

Sounds of the movement, of feet splashing through my spilled blood, along with wet tearing of flesh and high pitched growling reached my ears. I also believe that some sensation in my sides was coming back.

I tried to prepare what was left of my body, to accept that while my final moments were going to be agonising that I was at least content in the surety that I did not have long to wait until I was once more reunited with my Lord.

Harsh laughter filled my head when a hot breath, stinking of rotten meat passed over my face. I heard his voice one last time, bragging that my God did not exist that no deity would ever own up to our creation and before every single nerve ending in what was left of my body detonated, that same voice whispered a single sentence into my ear. It said…

“Meet my children.”

The End

Thank you for reading and if you enjoyed this rather gruesome tale, please seek out the other Tales From Brutality.

Dead Girl

By

Ian Woodhead

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright Ian Woodhead, April 2016

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, scanning or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.

.

Acknowledgements

A big thank you to the following people for taking time to beta read this little story. You all rock, seriously!

Lisa Redden

Leslie Whitaker

Amy Farmer

Erin Kelly

Nancy Spedding

Anna Garcia

Deb Yarbrough

Becky Narron-Heath

DEAD GIRL

I killed my first person earlier tonight. Considering how much the other guys had taunted me about this in the run up to the dare, I kinda expected the whole ordeal to effect me more than it did.

The old guy’s name was Alan. At least, that’s what we called him. He’d been sloping around the back of the schoolyard, trying to get into the food bins for the best part of a week.

Sure, the teachers called the police a couple of times but, just like Brutality’s coppers, they told the headmaster to sort it himself and to stop bothering them.

Mr Allinson did exactly that. He collected twelve of the largest lads from the last year, gave them all a bucket of stones from what was left of the old wall behind the sports block and told the lads to pelt the old man. He said that if any lad managed to kill him, he’d give that boy a week’s free pass to the gym. With a prize like that on offer, it really did shock the hell out of me that this old guy managed to crawl away from the school premises suffering only cuts and bruises.

Good job they didn’t kill him, I guess. The lads would have had to choose another target for the initiation, one which might even fight back.

If I was Alan, I sure as fuck wouldn’t have stayed in Brutality after that. I mean, this fella had been hanging around for at least a week before he decided to try and steal food from school. Had he not realised by then that Brutality was not your usual run of the mill mid-sized English town?

Believe me when I say that you put your life on a limb by coming here. You only have to walk down the high street to sense the general dark vibes of the place. It isn’t just the people either. The very soil in Brutality extruded wrongness.

Look, I’m not making up this shit. If you were here, you’d see it too. Then again, if you were in Brutality, the chances were pretty fucking high that you’d be dead within a week.

We found Alan around the back of the Shop and Save, curled up under a pile of damp cardboard. It was Stuart Trimble and Jackie Palmer who worked up the guts to pull him out. It’s not that either of them was scared of anything. Hell, Jackie might be a girl but she has bigger balls than me, and that’s saying something.

They only hesitated because he stunk of shit and piss. I mean really fucking reeked. We’re talking holding your breath bad.

Stuart said that putting him out of his misery would be the best thing we could do for the smelly old cunt. His instinct for self preservation lying dormant  in Alan’s sizzled head must have woken up at this point because, he kicked out with his left leg, the soul of his boot scraping across Jackie’s bare shin.

She toppled backwards, crashing into a couple of black metal dustbins, while her gob uttered a stream of obscenities.

True to form, Arnold Lister ran over to the girl, totally ignoring the old man sprinting down the alley. We all knew the baby of our gang would walk over broken glass just to smell the girl’s shit but even he knew the rules. It was business first, pleasure later. It was that simple.

Stuart and I raced after Alan, wanting to catch him before he escaped out onto the high street. It’s not like anyone would bother running to assist the tramp, it’s more likely that they’d kill him to save us the bother.

Sneaky knife thrusts were not uncommon in Brutality.

I put on an extra burst of speed, smiling to myself when I overtook Stuart. The old bastard was almost within reach. Disregarding my personal safety and knowing that I’d need a thousand showers after this, I rugby tackled the cunt, my smile growing even wider when Alan’s face smashed into the concrete floor. A sharp crack suggested that he’d either broken a couple of teeth or he no longer had a straight nose.

It was almost worth the fact that Alan’s filth now stained my brand new Reebok top.

Between the two of us, we dragged the baby back into the courtyard. Just for trying to flee, we didn’t even turn him on his back. We just grabbed a leg each and ran, listening to his screeching as we scraped his face across the floor.

It was kinda spooky how both Stuart and I shared that thought, even fucking spookier due to one major factor in my relationship with my gang but I’ll get to that in a bit.

We both must have been thinking about Jackie’s leg, which is why it was only right that Alan got a load of gravel rash as well.

See, Jackie might be dead hard, but she’s still as fit as fuck. Unlike Arnold though, we don’t go all sissy and queer about it.

I know for a fact that Stuart’s fucked her. Only once mind, it is part of the initiation, part of the deal. When Arnold reached the age, he’d understand this. Something told me though that the chances of Arnold reaching seventeen were about as likely as Alan walking out of the alley with a smile of his face.

Right about this point, when Jackie had swatted away Arnold’s paws and Stuart had turned Alan onto his back, my stomach did this really weird slow turn and I found it proper hard to swallow.

I knew that my time had come. This was it I had to kill this snivelling excuse for a person. Stuart grabbed both his legs, while Arnold and Jackie sat on his arms. The fact that Alan smelled like the contents of a three week old pisspot were totally forgotten.

The hammer used in our ceremonies made its appearance, the head black with the blood from countless other initiations.

Our gang had been going for a very long time. Stuart once told me that his own grandfather was once head of this gang.

I kneeled down next to his head and looked into the man’s upside down face. His eyes bulged in terror. I guess that even this fuckwit could understand that his pathetic existence was about to come to an end.

My stomach would not stop swaying about. It honestly felt like I was seasick. Even the thought that once I did this, the tip of Jackie’s tongue would be flicking over the tip of my solid cock by the end of tonight, wouldn’t get rid of the feeling.

Stuart had already filled me in on how much of a slag she was in bed.

I don’t know why I hesitated for so long. I want to think that it’s because I had gotten way too over excited about the task and not because the conscience that I tried to bury for so long was making one last attempt to break through.

In the end, it was the sight of Jackie bending over, giving me a view of her large tits that finally settled it.

I raised the hammer and smashed it against Alan’s forehead. His eyes literally shook in their sockets. The blow had made a depression in the man’s skull but he wasn’t yet dead.

I hit him again, and with Jackie’s urgent prompting, I smashed the hammer down, over and over again, my blows keeping time with Jackie’s gasps.

I only stopped when the blood slicked handle slipped from my grip and flew over my head, landing onto a pile of black bin bags.

Jackie looked up and into my eyes. Her fingers slipped out of her twat and brushed over my crotch. She leaned over and slowly licked my face clean while her fingers massaged my crotch.

This went on for a good few minutes, only stopping when Arnold’s grubby little hand snaked in from nowhere and squeezed her left tit.

Stuart gave him a proper slap for that. I was close to giving him a good fucking kick too, considering how close I’d been to spurting. Jackie was the one who pulled me back.

Once Stuart had punished the little turd, he pushed his hand into Alan’s smashed up head and pulled out what looked like dirty porridge streaked with raspberry jam. Frankly, it was the most disgusting thing I had ever seen.

After carefully picking out all the skull fragments, he then brought this horrible goop up to his mouth and took a small bite.

I thought I was going to be sick.

He then offered this mess to Arnold who didn’t hesitate in eating his share, before Stuart did the same to Jackie. She winked at me before that beautiful long tongue manoeuvred a portion of this brain matter onto the surface before it flicked back inside her mouth.

Stuart then stopped before me, grinning like some fucking retarded clown and told me that I had to finish it off. Even down to licking the palm of his hand clean.

Even though what Stuart wanted me to do was proper gross, I was still going to do it. I mean, how could I refuse? Jackie was practically raping me!

I slurped up every wet lump and slowly licked all that sloppy, warm juice from his skin. I even winked at the lad, I think that freaked out the cunt just a bit. I didn’t stop until he snatched his hand away and called me proper weird.

Both Jackie and Arnold giggled at that.

Stuart saying that to me wasn’t the proper weird bit. What totally threw me was the brain’s taste. It didn’t really taste of anything.

Look, it’s not like I expected tramp’s brain to taste like a fucking cheeseburger but I did kinda expect you know, something.

We left that alley with Jackie’s arm across my shoulder while my hand caressed her arse cheeks.

It was my turn to wear the retarded clown look because I finally believed that for the first time in my eighteen years some people in this fucked up town had accepted me.

---

My parents ripped my sister and I out of our haven in the middle of the country and dumped the family into Satan’s pits, back when we were only kiddies.

After what I’ve already described about Brutality, you can kinda guess exactly how bad the local kids treated a pair of new kids, aged just ten years old.

Tammy and I are twins, you see.

My sister used to be a right little gobshite in our old school and she, the naïve dork that she was, thought she could carry on just like that in Lower Brutality Secondary School.

I tell you, if I hadn’t been there to look after Tammy, she wouldn’t have lasted a week in our new home. The local kids were vicious to both of us but the bastards really did take great pleasure in trying to torture my little sister.

As far as I know, none of them inflicted too much physical damage to Tammy but it was a close run thing. I tell you, the kids never gave up trying to seriously fuck her over.

We were lucky, if you could call it that. Mum and dad said that Tammy and I didn’t have to start our new school for a full week. It would give us plenty of time to acclimatise, to get to know our new town and to make new friends.

Yeah right.

It didn’t take a week for me to realise our parents had made the biggest mistake of their lives moving to Brutality.

Tammy and I spent a full day wandering around the town with our jaws resting on the ground. We were only out of the house for five minutes when we first sampled the first of Brutality’s dubious delights.

Our house wasn’t far from the town centre, so we made that our first destination. We’d passed through the high street a couple of times already, in dad’s car and although it didn’t look like Blackpool Promenade, it’s all we had now. Maybe we’d get lucky and find an arcade machine in a café?

Mum had given us some money so, if we found nothing of interest, at least we’d be able to get something to eat.

I remember us stopping in front of this chip shop, my stomach growling due to the lovely smell of hot grease floating out of the open door when this old woman and a young girl, about our age walked past us.

The girl smiled at me and I smiled back, while wondering if she went to our new school. She was very pretty, long blonde straight hair which reached all the way down her back.

Tammy nudged me. She obviously thought I was staring. Then the old woman looked straight at me, opened her mouth and grinned, exposing this cave of blackened stumps.

I don’t think I actually yelled out but I must have jerked in fright and bumped into this pretty girl because the next thing I saw was the girl looking down at the pavement, at the ice cream she’d just dropped.

The old woman went into this stern but sympathetic mode, ushering the girl past us and politely refusing our offers to buy the girl another ice cream.

Okay, big fucking deal, it’s not like she chainsawed off her head in front of us and I think that’s the point. See, stuff happens in the town, really bad stuff, yet it’s all kept behind closed doors, hidden away, like some giant dirty secret. See, the ice cream event didn’t just end with this old woman with rotten teeth disappearing around the corner.

I took Tammy’s hand, told her not to say a word then sneaked up to the edge of the chip shop and peered around the corner.

She was beating the little girl. I mean really fucking laying into her. Blow after blow, it was horrible to watch and yet, I couldn’t pull my eyes away. It was the most brutal spectacle had ever witnessed. What made it even more bizarre was neither of them was making a single noise. Her bony fist smashed into the girl’s shoulder, her back, her face, every area where flesh was exposed.

This went on for at least a minute until Tammy pushed me to the side so she could look. My sister gasped out loud.

That is when the weirdest event happened.

Both the girl and the old woman froze in mid punch. They looked back at us before she grabbed the little girl’s hand again and casually walked off like nothing had happened. Tammy looked at me, her mouth forming a little ‘o’. My sister wanted me to tell her that she’d really seen that. If it wasn’t for that girl now walking with a slight limp, I would have asked the same question.

I guess you could call that experience, a life changing event. Witnessing the woman beating ten shades of shit out of that girl took the blinkers off our eyes. So during the rest of the day, Tammy and I noticed stuff that most normal folk would have just walked past without a moment’s thought.

For a start, we noticed people cleaning the pavements in town with soapy water and stiff brushes. These folk were pleasant enough to us two. Nothing wrong there. it wasn’t until we reached the front of this grocery store and saw this middle-aged woman who hadn’t quite finished her little patch. She smiled at us, no bad teeth in this one, and told Tammy that some little girl had dropped her ice-cream, her chocolate ice-cream right in front of her window.

We smiled back and left her to it, feeling that woman’s eyes on the back of my neck. I knew blood when I saw it. My ten year old mind pictured loads of people crammed into the high street at the dead of night, hitting each other with clubs, bats and broken bottles, with not one person making a sound.

About one hour later, while I was browsing through a collection of comics I found in a newsagent on the other side of the town, Tammy grabbed my coat sleeve. Pulled me over to the shop window and pointed over to the low brick wall which separated the shop and a garden full of flowers.

I watched a large black bird gazing back at the window, that wasn’t what she wanted to show me. Tammy told me to look down at its feet. Dutifully, I followed her instruction and discovered Mrs Black Bird with its piercing eyes had found a little treat for her baby birds, a severed finger.

I didn’t say anything to mum when we got back. Tammy wanted to blurt out everything we’d seen. It took me a good couple of hours to stop the silly cow from doing that. I knew that our parents wouldn’t believe a word of it. They’d just see it as their kids being extra nasty to them and trying to spoil their new home.

As far as they were concerned, everything was working out just great for them. Both mum and dad had landed jobs here that paid well above the standard pay grade as well as buying a house that should be worth five times more than what they paid for it.

So we kept the secret of Brutality, somehow believing that it was the right thing to do. Looking back, I guess it wasn’t my brightest idea.

Tammy cried herself to sleep on that first night. She told me the next morning that it wasn’t fair the nasty woman beat that girl just because she dropped her ice-cream. My sister so needed to buy her another one and to give the girl a big hug.

She got her stupid wish a week later but not the way my poor sister could have imagined.

Tammy ended up in ice-cream girl’s class. Whether this was coincidence or design, I could only guess. Like Tammy hoped, she tried to apologise and ask ice-cream girl to be her friend.

This little bitch responded to Tammy’s offer of friendship by dragging Tammy into the toilets at first break and flushing her head down the pan. It didn’t finish there, oh no. She savagely twisted Tammy’s nipples and stole all her money, saying that whatever Tammy owned now belonged to her. She also threatened to break into her bedroom and superglue her nose and mouth shut if she ever told.

Through the sobbing that next night, my sister also said that every other kid in her class had a go, only none of them touched her, apparently only ice-cream girl could do that because she was the one who saw Tammy first so she had first dibs.

Tammy wasn’t the only new kid who was targeted that day. Only they didn’t get very far. You see, unlike my gentle sister, I don’t bow down to any bitch as Paul Eccles, my new class crowned king soon found out.

Like I said, Brutality had already prepared me. I knew what to expect when I first arrived at my new school. Mum and dad used to move from town to town a lot so we were used to being the new kids. Now Tammy and I had different methods. She used to try to be as nice as she could, lots of the smiles and cakes, shit like that. Me? Oh, I used to beat the shit out of anyone who tried it on with me.

With Brutality and its freaky set of complete fucking psychotics who lived here. I knew that if I wanted my technique to work, I would have to become worse than them. My ten year old mind pictured the big boys stamping on my fingers, sticking needles in my tongue or holding me down and doing the sex act on me. This was not going to happen.

It came as a bit of a shock when my new teacher introduced me to my new classmates and everybody were as nice as pie to me. I mean really nice. I wasn’t fooled for a second though. Those smiles belonged to tigers and lions and to them I was yet another fluffy bunny to tear apart.

Paul Eccles and two of his biggest mates didn’t make their move until school had finished. I had expected this. Making the new kid think they’d gotten away with a first day beating is the oldest trick in the book. You’re supposed to expect them to jump you on first break or lunchtime. By the time last break has ended you start to think that maybe they’re not going to beat the shit out of you after all.

It wouldn’t have mattered what time they tried it on, I would have been ready for them.

The three cornered me right at the top of the playground, in full view of all the other kids and two patrolling monitors. The fact that I didn’t cry out for help when Paul’s big fist whacked me in the forehead wasn’t his only surprise.

Before the goon could hit me again, I whipped out dad’s wine corkscrew and slammed the business end into Paul’s bladder. His whole body shuddered yet he didn’t fall over. He just stood there, his face a complete picture of disbelief as I twisted the handle round and round.

Paul only reacted when I tried to jerk it out of his flesh.

This really weird high-pitched girly scream erupted from his gob. I jumped back and launched my left foot straight into his balls.

The boy dropped to his knees before falling on to his side, still whining and crying. Oh, he’d also gotten a serious case of the shake about this time too.

So what about his two mates, why didn’t they intervene? I had expected them to try and kick me to death at about this point. I already had my fingers wrapped around dad’s craft knife in preparation for this eventuality. Nothing happened though. The next thing I saw were two teachers running over to us. Mr Gregson, the geography teacher carried a stretcher on his back.

As I watched them carry Paul down to the first aid room, I marvelled at how quickly they reacted. It didn’t hit me until I was walking home that the stretcher was meant for me. Oh yeah, it turned that just like the ice-cream girl having exclusive twatting rights to Tammy, the same applied to me as well. It turned out that Paul’s dad owned the shop where we saw that bird making off with the severed finger.

I expected to be expelled for what I’d done. Can you believe it wasn’t even mentioned again? No letter for my parents, no trip to the headmaster. There wasn’t even any police involvement. That showed I still had not grasped the rules of the town. What else could you expect though? I’ve always been quick on the uptake, but I still forget that these rules, the glue which holds this crazy fucked up town in place, is instilled into every single Brutality born individual.

If I had really understood the rules then perhaps future events might have been more favourable for our family.

Stuart once told me this story of some priest who came to our town, with this brain dead plan of saving the good folk of Brutality. You know, trying to turn them into proper God fearing people instead of, well, not to mince words here, instead of utter cunts. As you can imagine, his plan didn’t exactly go well. Stuart refused to tell me his eventual fate but he did say he got what he deserved. Meaning they killed the fucker. He also said that the common theory is that the spirit of the town sorta got into his head and turned him into a bit of a mental-case, because this priest somehow managed to murder a few folk before they caught him.

So what the fuck has that got to do with me? Well, it’s this spirit of Brutality thing that I can’t shake, that maybe it got to me as well. I mean, I know I was a bit of a tearaway, but to mutilate another ten year old without a moment’s hesitation?  That is pretty fucked up. I didn’t feel any guilt of it either, not one single fucking ounce.

Oh yeah, I never saw Paul again. He disappeared and, with this being Brutality, nothing was ever said.

So yeah, has Brutality eroded my morality? Or had I always been a bit of a psycho and I just needed the influence of a town like this to nurture my gift, answers on a postcard, because I don’t have a fucking clue.

They left me alone after the corkscrew business. If only they had extended this to include my sister as well. Those bitches were merciless to the poor girl. I did try to protect her, honestly I did. Thing is, Brutality’s kids were masters at hurting without getting seen. I couldn’t be in two places at once. Also, with Paul out of the picture, it made me the de-facto crowned king of my year, despite me not being Brutality born. Like I said, rules were rules and they just weren’t allowed to break them.

It took my parents quite a while to notice what had happened to their kids and that their new home was the culprit. I guess that’s what happens when your career becomes more important than anything else. You walk around with your eyes closed. It’s not like they didn’t love us, of course they did, it’s just that neither of them wanted to believe that Brutality was the cause of Tammy refusing to leave her bedroom everyday and screaming whenever anybody tried the open her door. Or that their son was now running with a pack of feral kids and coming home every night with new bruises and ripped clothing.

They moved to another town two months ago. I didn’t go with them. Fuck that. Brutality was my home now and anyway, there was nothing they could do about it, after all, I was old enough to look after myself. Stuart’s dad agreed to take me in, which was nice of him, I guess. I really should have moved out ages ago, considering the time I spent with them. It wasn’t often I went home anymore. The noise coming out of Tammy’s bedroom really was getting on my tits.

Anyway, enough of the all that. The past is the past and that’s it. What excites me is the future, namely the exciting prospect of finally getting into Jackie’s knickers. I’ve been wanting to fuck that girl for absolutely ages. Look, it’s not like I’m a virgin or anything, it’s just that Jackie is like the cream of the cream. When you do her, every other slag just pales in comparison. Stuart says that she really is that good.

We had all arranged to meet at Arnold’s place before setting off for the final stage in my initiation. There’s this big house close to some abandoned church on the outskirts of town. Nobody lives there but it does have a caretaker and that caretaker just happens to be Stuart’s dad. Yeah, I think you can see where I’m going with this.

I’ve changed out of the clothes that the tramp messed and into something loose fitting. I thought it was best not to wear anything that took more than three seconds to pull off, if you know what I mean. Armed with our usual gear of a short bladed knife, some money and a condom, Stuart and I set off walking over to Arnold’s place. He only lived a couple of streets away so it didn’t take us too long to get there. I had to admit, I had this big cheesy smile plastered across my face and Stuart did too. I guess he was happy for me. It’s weird how close I felt to all of them now.

I’ll admit that I was a little bit pissed off when only Arnold, the goon, came out of his house alone. I was under the impression that Jackie would be with him and we were all going up to the house together, preferable with me playing with Jackie’s arse again. Arnold told us that she had already made her way up to the house.

Stuart then gave me a wink and said she’s probably getting herself ready for you. If my grin could have gotten any wider at that point, I swear I would have looked like some retarded clown. An image of me walking into this bedroom and finding the girl wearing this transparent negligee popped into my head. It was at this point when Arnold fucking ruined my fantasy by saying she’d be wearing that dead tramp’s clothes. I swear down, I’ve no idea what stopped me from punching his lights out there and then. Not that I had to; my mate Stuart just gave him this weird look and the cunt slammed his gob tight. He didn’t utter a single sound until we reached the big house.

“I hope you’re ready for this, buddy,” said Stuart. He thrust his hands into his pockets. “Come on then, lad. Open the fucking door. What’s with the hesitation?”

“He’d rather stick his cock up your arse, Stuart!”

“Get the fuck, the pair of you,” I snarled. There were times when I so wanted to give Arnold a slap, despite his size.. I grabbed the handle and pulled it down, kinda expecting it to be locked and for Stuart to magic the key out of his pockets while they both pissed themselves laughing.

The door opened as smooth as you like, so much for them fucking about. I stepped over the threshold, vaguely wondering why my heart was beating so fast, all of a sudden, I so wanted to be somewhere else, and without my present company. I was aware that Stuart was right behind me, a little too close for my liking but I just assumed that he wanted to get a glimpse of the sexed up Jackie. With him being a dirty perverted bastard.

I wanted him to back away, you know, to get out of my personal space but the room I found myself in, made me forget everything expect my name.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I gasped, looking around the walls, utterly horrified at the sight of the severed heads.

“Come on, you,” whispered Stuart. “In you get.”

Both his hands slammed into the middle of my back. I cried out, losing balance and going down hard on my knees. He followed this with a sharp crack against my left ear, hard enough to make me see stars.

They stood over me, both laughing while I tried my best not to cringe. The wall of denial which had cushioned my young mind against the horror and atrocities I’d seen and contributed to over the years came tumbling down around my ears.

I lifted my head and for the first time, I saw the real hate in the faces of those two ghouls, the faces of the two boys who stood by as I once mutilated their best friend. They had waited seven years for retribution and right at that moment, I knew I would not be leaving this charnel house alive.

“Don’t just stand there, Arnold, you fucking diseased spastic, help me get him back on his feet. We’re on a time limit, remember?”

They grabbed an arm each and lifted me up. I stared at the maroon carpet while the boys dragged me across the room. There was no way I dare look at that wall again without the fear of my sanity fragmenting. I daren’t even close my eyes, knowing that I would see all those rows of shelves, full of severed heads stuck on spikes, each head in a progressive degree of putrefaction. Some of the things must have been up there for decades.

Would that be my final destination?

They dragged me into another room. Stuart forced my arm up my back while Arnold pushed his thumb under my chin, forcing my head up.

“Sorry, dude, but you have to see this. It’s fucking awesome.”

The beans and burger I had for my lunch threatened to leave my mouth at the sight of my second corpse today. Arnold gripped the sides of my chin when I tried to look away.

“Don’t you fucking dare. You won’t believe the twatting inconvenience your behaviour’s caused me.”

“Yeah, have a bit of respect. Drink in the first consequence of your decisions, you cunt,” snarled Stuart.

“Oh God,” I moaned. “You dirty horrible, evil bastards. That is disgusting.”

They had bent some naked man over an old wooden dining table and wrapped barbed wire over his back, neck and arms to ensure he couldn’t move his body. Blood-stained shit caked his upper thighs and had rolled down his knees and ankles until it pooled around a broken milk bottle lying between this poor bastard’s feet.

Stuart placed his mouth up against my ear and whispered, “It gets worse.”

Arnold let go of my chin and ran over to the corpse. He wrapped his fingers into the hair and lifted the head off the table.

“It’s your dad, dude.”

Arnold burst out laughing and slammed the man’s face into the wood.

“You look like you’re going to cry, dude, you big fucking baby. Are you going to do that?” Stuart pushed me over to another door. “Are you going to start weeping and asking for your mum?”

Arnold had yet to stop laughing.

“As we’re such good friends, it’s only right that we help you out here, dude.”

“Please, no. I don’t want to see this.”

Arnold reached the next door and pushed it open while the other boy marched me through the opening.

Oh No, please not my mum as well. Tears streamed down my cheeks and my knees buckled when they pushed me right up the edge of the bed in front of my mum. Like dad, they had violated her as well. I cried out before my stomach folded up and I chucked up mushed up warm vomit all over the dead woman’s feet.

“Look at her, you cunt!” screamed Stuart.

They grabbed my head again.

“This is all your fault. Don’t you get that?”

Arnold walked over to the corpse, leaned down and ran his tongue over her cheek. I growled, trying to wrestle this big bastard off me. For me efforts, he punched me again and slammed my body into the bed board. Stuart then pulled his blade from his back pocket and pressed it against the small of my back.

“Go on, try that again. I’m begging you.”

“You knobhead,  I said we should have tied him up first.” Arnold casually squeezed my mother,s right breast before he strolled back over to me. He pulled out three thick plastic cable ties. “Hold his hands together, Stuart.”

I looked past her mutilated genitals and the wide blood-filled holes in her stomach and focused on her face, trying to compare the contorted features to that beautiful and kind woman who used to tuck me into bed every night.

“I’ll have to admit, dude, your mum was a pretty good fuck, for an old woman, anyway. Not as good as Jackie though. Oh, that reminds me. She still wants to see you.” He grabbed my now secured arms and jerked my body back. “Come on, times a wasting.”

“Oh yeah, we’ve saved the best until the last,” said Arnold, giggling. “Tammy is so dying to see you, dude.”

“Don’t worry,” said Stuart, spinning me around. “We haven’t hurt her. She’s alive and well.” He rested his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry about what happened to your mum and dad, really I am. Thing is, it’s the only way we could show you. Brutality isn’t just some town where people can come and go. It’s alive.”

“And when strangers come here and start acting like they’re king of the fucking castle, it’s only normal for us to react.”

“Just see us as antibodies. While you lot are viruses.” He stopped outside another door. “Like I’ve already said, dude. This is all your fault. You shouldn’t have tried to play the hard man, tried to be like one of us.” He pushed the door open. “End of the line!” He shoved me inside.

They had hung my sister upside down. Her ankles tied to roof rafters with thick ropes. They hadn’t lied. Tammy still lived. Her eyes bulged in their sockets and behind the black carpet tape, she tried to shout out.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt her!” I yelled. Arnold grabbed my arms before I could run to the girl. “You promised me.”

Another door opened on the opposite side of the room and two more figures entered. I recognised Jackie straight away. Another man followed in behind her. It had been a few years since I had seen him but I would never forget the face of Paul Eccles. He carried a baseball bat in his big hand.

Jackie walked over to the naked girl and slapped her arse. “So, looks like all the gang is here.” She crouched down. “I told you what would happen if you told anybody.” She glared at me. “I couldn’t find any superglue so I had to improvise.” Jackie winked at me before turning her attention to Paul. “Come on then, you idiot. Get on with, we don’t have all day.”

Both Arnold and Stuart held me down, Arnold’s hand clamping tight around my mouth while Paul took up position behind my sister. I saw the bat rise into the air before it slammed down between Tammy’s outstretched legs.

Jackie’s mocking face appeared directly in front of mine. “I guess you thought me and you were going to be together tonight?” She laughed. “Well, you’re kinda right. First, me and the lads are going to play with you before we devote the rest of the night to your sexy sister before we kill the bitch. Lucky for you though, you ain’t going to be around to see what we do to her. You see, we have something really special lined up for you, honey.” She showed me the wine corkscrew she held in her left hand. “This is so going to hurt. It’s going to hurt you a lot.”

He ca

The End