Flee Page 5
As her eyes adjusted she noticed something within the markings on the floor. Directly in front of her was a metal grate on the floor. It was shaped like the pentagram, and about fifteen feet across. The highly ornate metal was proud off the concrete by about an inch. It looked like a cover, as if something was beneath it. She shuddered again as if an icy hand pulled her towards that sinister cover, and to what lay beneath.
The metal was pewter colored, carved with runes and symbols. Looking at it, she felt a primordial fear. Malevolence emanated from it, and now she knew it was not the altar, but the pit beneath that door that would be her fate. What terror lurked there? What torture had he planned for her this time?
Leaning back, she closed her eyes tightly, and took the pressure from her shoulders. She sighed. Her arms, neck and shoulders felt as if they have been beaten with a hammer. Muscles screamed with pain, and the fatigue made it hard for her to concentrate. Relaxing as much as she could, just for a little while, leaned back against the pole, resting.
A metallic rasp sent splinters of shock up and down her body. Her eyes flew opened. What had changed, what made that noise? Slowly, cautiously she released her breath, and searched the cellar. Heart pounding in her chest she could see nothing different, so what had woken her?
Another hiss in the dark.
Doris stared at the seal. Was this where the noise had come from? Inside the pentagram shape was a circle, and this was further divided into eight triangles, the points meeting in the middle. Had she seen them before? She didn’t think so. As she watched, each of the segments began to crack open. Pressure seemed to break a seal between the triangles, and a popping noise ran around the circle. This was followed by mist, which emerged from the edges of each of those metal plates.
Hearing the noise, the hell bat spread out its wings, and stretched on its perch, cawing out its excitement. Its rat-like head extended on a scrawny neck, and waved from side to side as it bobbed up and down. Excitement showed in its features, and a fresh stream of drool appeared, glistening from its hideous teeth.
Doris eyed the beast warily. Would it attack her now? It seemed more interested in the opening seal than her. Its head weaved back and forth in the direction of the seal, neck extended down as if it was looking at the floor. Doris felt her own eyes drawn back to the noise.
Mist rose steadily from breaks between each segment, leaching into the room, and somehow bringing with it a little light. This allowed her to watch as the triangular compartments rose one by one. Pop and the first compartment sprang open. It was the one at the top of the pentagram, directly opposite her. As it opened, it sprang back with immense force, and bounced slightly before settling in an upright position. Doris held back a scream, all her muscles tensed, and readied themselves as she expected some beast to leap out and attach her. She waited, breath held, but nothing emerged. Time seemed to freeze as she waited. Just mist and light seeped out from the grate. At last, she gasped and began to breathe again.
As the light and mist emerged from beneath the seal it crept upwards with a life of its own. She could feel its presence as it slid from the pit like a snake, rising into a column. It appeared to be looking around as if charmed from its basket, searching for someone to bite. It turned towards her, slowly, pausing ready to strike. Then it spread out, and rushed forwards, covering the ground with a blanket of luminescence that seeped from the bowels of the earth and slithered ever closer.
Then pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop. One by one the seals jumped open, and came to rest pointing upwards. And as each segment jolted open, Doris’s muscles spasmed, causing her bonds to dig further into her wrists. The pain was welcome as it grounded her, and stopped her from falling into madness.
The mist speeded up its exit from the hole, rushing now, and spreading outwards, but only towards Doris.
It slid over the steel, and across the concrete floor, gathering beneath the steps, before climbing towards her. Like a silken sheet it rose up the steps, and then it fanned out, surrounding her, keeping a foot or so of distance between itself and her feet. It formed a circle of mist all around her like an army preparing to sack a castle.
The hell bat continued its bobbing, up and down and side to side, its glassy eyes were now on Doris and the advancing mist.
A two-foot-high diffuse cloud of hate surrounded her, and waited. She could feel its presence. The room seemed colder, damper, and there was pressure buzzing in the air and a shortness of oxygen.
“Keep away from me,” Doris shouted, renewing her struggle, fueled by fear and desperation.
“Why, damn it? Why? Why?” she screamed at the mist.
“Oh Doris, very dramatic.” The Numen walked towards her, calm and arrogant. As he approached, the mist bowed down like a beaten dog. It cowered to either side of him, leaving a gap for him to saunter down. His step was jaunty. His smug face beamed a huge smile.
“I just wanted to check that you were comfortable. Your stay with us won’t be long, but if there’s anything I can get you, let me know. Champagne and strawberries, an interview with the pope, or maybe a pain-free death. Nothing’s too good for my Doris.”
He paused, and smiled at the hell bat. “Oh sorry, that last one may be difficult.” He reached out and gently stroked her cheek, smiling like the perfect host.
Doris tossed her head violently, and spat at him, scoring a lucky hit just above his left eye.
“Oh Doris, come now,” he said. His hand shot out and grabbed her throat. He tightened his grip, crushing her windpipe, squeezing the breath from her struggling form. Moving in close, he kissed her cheek. “That’s not very friendly,” he whispered into her ear.
Doris’s throat ached as she gasped for air. The breath that preceded him smelt of dirt, decay and the river bottom. She spluttered, choking, and her face turned from red to blue as she started to lose consciousness. He gave one final squeeze, and let go, pushing her backward as he did. Her head hit the wooden post hard. More pain surged through her, shocking her as she managed to take in a lungful of air.
“Don’t worry, Doris. For now, you’re useful.” He rubbed the spittle from his eye, wiped it on her blouse, then turned and stalked out of the room. The mist closed back around her, as he left. It slid across the ground with a hunger of its own. As he departed, a sigh issued forth from the hole in the seal, the sigh of a sleeping beast waking, with anticipation of the meal ahead.
Chapter Six
Jenny’s eyes were heavy. They fought to stay closed as she struggled to keep them open. She needed to stay alert, yet the gentle gliding of the Mercedes teased her with sleep as it whisked them through the night. The car was a warm and cozy cocoon. The soothing heat it exuded seeped into her bones, and chased away the chill. Guilt jerked her back awake, how could she even think of sleep when her parents lay murdered. A greasy coating seemed to line her stomach, and she had to fight down the urge to vomit.
They passed from the shadows of the countryside to the warm glow of the suburbs, as they entered Louth. The small town was known as the capital of the Wolds. The sight of the house windows, with their welcome light, relaxed Jenny. The tall, narrow buildings crowded close to the road. Their 18th-century architecture more suited to horses than the modern beast that carried them through the night. Jenny had often found the village claustrophobic, with its overhanging buildings, and narrow cobbled streets, but tonight it provided welcome security.
“What do we do?” Jenny asked. She looked at Robert, and knew he would handle the formalities. She did not want to think of what must come, funerals, lawyers, closing up the family home. And Doris, what would become of her? Robert looked so calm, he hid his feelings well. He seemed so solid, a buoy to cling to in her sea of grief.
“I will handle it, we just need to wait.” Robert smiled a gentle smile, as he maneuvered the car through the narrow streets. “I’ll sort everything out as soon as we get you safe at my place.” Reaching back, he rubbed Rosie’s head. “And maybe some food for young Rosie here.”<
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“Who could do that to my parents? Did they have any enemies?” She gazed out at the old houses that stood to attention, and lined the road like soldiers on parade. She felt envy for the people safe within those walls, those whose life was not touched with death.
“Enemies. None that I know of. Their business was going well. They are… were financially very sound, and as far as I know, all their clients were happy.” He stopped the car at a set of traffic lights, a frown wrinkled his face. “I don’t know a lot about the day to day workings of their business. I’m sorry, but it always seemed a little,” he paused, searching for the right word, “strange, I guess you’d say. Honestly, I felt a little uncomfortable with it at times.”
“I know, don’t feel embarrassed, that’s why I never joined them, but lately things have changed. They were pushing me to join them again, and wanted to tell me something. I had to agree to do some training before they would, though. Have you any idea what they were getting at?”
He laughed, a little self-deprecating noise. “No, they never mentioned it to me, but you are thirty soon and that is a very powerful time. The thirtieth birthday of the first-born child. I remember Alex telling me something about that,” he said, without taking his eyes from the road.
“Maybe we should have picked up some books from the house, done a bit of research, what do you think?”
He shrugged as he turned the car onto the drive of a modern, detached house. Jenny always thought this house too chic for Robert. She envisioned him living in an old farmhouse. But he had lived here ten years now, along with his wife Sophie and their two children, James and Sara.
“Sophie and the kids are in France, for half term, so there are just us two. Are you okay with that?”
“Yes, of course. I feel guilty, but think I just want to sleep.”
“That’s natural, you had a big shock, and now your body needs rest to overcome it. Would you like me to call Dr. James, maybe prescribe something to help?” He parked the car in front of a large garage, sliding the gear lever into park before turning to look at her.
“No, I’m fine. I just want answers, why would someone do this?”
“I don’t know, but there are horrid people in this world.”
Jenny sighed. “The police, they will want to see me.”
“Yes, in time.”
She opened the door then stepped around it to let Rosie out.
Hopping out of the car, Rosie ran off into the garden, barking a warning.
Jenny shuddered. “I think she’s really spooked after what happened at the house. Just as you arrived, someone smashed a window around the front. Rosie knew they were there.”
“Well, I don’t think they’re in my garden?” Robert smiled. He gazed nervously after the dog.
He’s trying so hard to be reassuring, she thought knowing that Robert was not keen on dogs, and he had just let Rosie in his immaculate, white upholstered Mercedes.
“Let’s get you inside.” He indicated towards the house.
“Rosie, Rosie, come on girl foostie time,” Jenny called out.
“Foostie?” Robert raised his right eyebrow.
“A silly play on words food, became foost, became foostie. I’m not sure how it came about, but she knows what it means.”
Rosie came bounding up, a line of deeper brown down her back as if her hair had been jelled into a peek showed that her hackles were raised. But she was eager, and excited for her tea.
Jenny glanced around at the garden. It was Roberts’s pride, very formal, with immaculately clipped bushes, intense green lawns and a rainbow of flowers. She had spent many happy hours here, but shrouded by darkness, each shrub seemed to threaten hidden danger.
Robert stepped up to the house, and led them into the hallway, switching on the lights. It looked so welcoming and normal. All different shades of beige, the current fashion, expensive furniture and polished wooden floors invited them in. The house smelled of roses, and Jenny immediately felt warm and safe.
As they made their way to the kitchen, Rosie slid on the floor. Her claws clattered in her exuberance to find her food as she skittered across it to follow them.
“This way, mutt.” Robert encouraged, and led them through to the kitchen. “I have some chicken left over, will that be ok for her?” he asked.
“That’s fine. Could you also put some water down?”
“Sure.” He turned, retrieving a dish from the fridge, and prepared the chicken in an old casserole dish. Rosie followed him around the room with eager eyes, her stump of a tail wagging incessantly. Jenny found herself stood there, rigid with shock as normality happened all around her.
“Now, let’s get you into the bath.”
“I can’t. The police will want to see me… as I am.”
Roberts, deep brown eyes darkened, and he ran a hand through his hair. “Sit here. I will call them again.” His hands were shaking as he picked up the phone. “I’ll just go in…” He pointed at the door and disappeared into the hallway.
Jenny slumped down at the table, and with her head in her hands she started to cry. There was a hole where her heart should be, and it felt like barb wire was wound tight around her guts. The vision of her parents, surrounded by blood, would not go away. Then she would see them laughing and happy and then dead. It was as if her brain could not process what she had seen, and was trying to make sense of it. Happy memories played like old movies across the scene of her mind, and produced new floods of tears. She could hear Robert talking in the background, and someone was wailing. It took a second or two before she realized it was her. Rosie pushed her head onto her lap, and whined softly. Jenny reached down, and ran her fingers over the dog’s silken head. She pulled herself from the chair, and sank to the floor, hugging the dog tight. Together they rocked as the tears continued to fall.
The sound of Robert clearing his throat grounded her. She looked up through her tears to see him standing there. She did not think she had ever seen him so uncomfortable. He dithered on the spot wanting to offer comfort, but not knowing how to do so.
“I’m okay,” she said standing. “What did the police say? Do we stay here or go to them?” She got up, and sat back at the table.
Robert ran a hand through his hair. He looked at the kettle and then the table, eventually pulling up a chair and sitting across from her. “I don’t think they believe me yet,” he said. His hands were twiddling with the phone handset, as if he only just realized he dropped it on the table.
“But, but, I have to go see them.”
“Just remember this is a very small town, a hamlet really, and we are a long way away from any major police presence. There has not been a murder here… in living memory, and there are only two officers on duty. It will take time, my main concern is that you are safe.”
Jenny nodded, but the words didn’t really sink in. Safe, what was safe.
“They said to stay here until they have investigated. They said to collect your clothes in plastic bags, but that it was all right for you to get clean.” It was as if the words sparked something in him, he now had something to do that he could cope with. His attitude changed, and with a smile on his face he rose. “Come on let’s get you in the bath.” He grabbed some black bags from under the sink, and indicated for Jenny to follow.
With a gentle smile he led the way from the kitchen to the guest bedroom. “You can sleep in this room,” he said.
The bedroom was a beautiful yellow, bright and sunny. For a second, she stopped. It seemed obscene that it was so bright when her parents lay cold and bloody.
“There are clean towels in the bathroom,” Roberts’s voice yanked her back to the present, “and I will find some of Sophie’s clothes, and leave them on the bed for you. Are you okay?” he asked as he showed her the adjoining bathroom.
“I feel numb, as if it’s not real, that if I go back tomorrow they will both greet me happy as ever. Is that insane?”
He pulled her to him, and hugged her tight, stroking he
r hair with a tenderness she could not imagine.
“No, it’s a natural way of coping. You go now, get clean and relax. If you need me, I will be in the study. Just shout.” His smile looked unsure as he exited the room, and closed the door quietly behind him.
She knew this would be difficult for him too. The normally reserved Robert looked so distressed in this role of comforter; yet he tried so hard for her. Jenny walked back to the bathroom. Her head weighed the world, and her shoulders slumped with a weariness that threatened to floor her.
Everything in the bathroom was white. It was too much for her eyes, so sterile, and painfully bright. Turning off the light she closed the door, and leaned back against it, eyes shut tight.
She began to shake, and lost the battle to hold back her tears. Her shoulders knocked against the wood as huge sobs racked her body. Eventually exhausted, she ran hot water into the bath, added a copious amount of tea tree and mint bubble bath, and having piled her clothes into the black bags she climbed into the tub. It felt like coming home.
Gradually the hot water soaked away her distress; she breathed in the fresh smell. It was clean and pure, and actually a little tingly on her skin. Almost like mild antiseptic. Relishing the feeling she rubbed her body with a back brush, the scratchy surface, removed the blood, and left her clean and pink. She scrubbed harder, pushing the brush into her skin as sobs took over again. It was all too much. She dropped the brush, and cried into the water.
The water was cold when she washed her hair, and left the bath, climbing into a huge soft bath sheet. It smelled vaguely of roses, and engulfed her in its comfort. She pulled out the plug, and watched the water, now tinged red, slowly drain away. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to push away the despair that clawed at her stomach.
Blood stained water had run from her body to soil the pristine white bath mat. For a second, she worried about the mess, but she felt too exhausted to care.