Depravity (27 page)

The woman turned around and jumped for Michael but he anticipated that. He shifted his body to the left. Before the woman could grab him again, Michael put both hands around the man's throat. He picked it up and swung the man as hard as he could against the stone slab.

A sharp crack resonated around the dark room, soon followed by a howl of anguish coming from the woman. She looked away from the dead man, her crazed eyes finding his face. The woman launched herself at him. This time, she made contact, knocking hard against the side of the slab. He tried to get a grip on her body, to get this vile bitch off him but the shit and blood covering her naked body made it impossible. He lunged forward, his open mouth clamping over one of her nipples. Michael ignored the disgusting taste of the stuff now flowing onto his tongue and bit down, suppressing a hysterical laugh as her flesh tore away.

The woman pulled herself away, clamped a hand over her wounded breast before running out of the room, screaming. He got onto his knees, his stomach heaved before the contents rushed out of his mouth.

He managed to stand up without his legs giving out then made his way over to his wife. Tears of relief flowed down his face. He couldn't believe he'd made it to this point. Michael gently pulled the tape from her face before releasing her from the clamps.

The sobbing woman collapsed into his arms. Michael wrapped his coat around her shivering body and slowly led her towards the open door. “I want you to keep close to me, honey. This isn't finished yet.”

“What about you,” she whispered. “What about your finger?”

“I'll live,” he replied. Michael took her to the bottom of the stairs. He could hear the other woman's sobs from here. She wasn't that far behind. “Come on, this is nearly over.” Michael helped her up to the top of the stairs, thanking whoever was looking out for him at the blessed sight of his gun, still lying on the carpet. The witch was obviously too far gone to have picked it up and use it against them.

It didn't shock him in the least to find the door stayed visible when he retrieved his gun. Michael helped her through the room and into the next corridor. “Honey, you might want to keep your eyes closed. It isn't a pretty sight from here on.”

She looked up into his face. He knew what she was silently searching for and lowered his gaze. “I'm so sorry, Jodie. Fern didn't make it.”

“Is this nightmare ever going to end, Michael?”

He gripped the gun hard. “Yes, when she is dead.” Michael took her over to a chair. “I want you to wait here,” he said. That woman was at the bottom of the stairs now, it sounded like she was stuck on something.

“Please don't leave me again!”

“You're safe now, I promise. There's only one more left.”

Their fingers parted and he ran towards the top of the steps, desperate to get this over with. The woman was right there, by the edge of the reception table, in the midst of a lake of blood and bodies. He ran down the steps, watching her look in his direction, her face displaying a bestial snarl. The woman kicked back before stumbling forward and disappearing into the dining room.

“Fuck!” he yelled. Michael got to the bottom of the steps, and made his way through the mess, not wanting to lose the woman.

“Michael? Oh God, it is you.”

He looked down to find his friend staring back up at him. His dead wife was in his arms.

“I held onto her leg for as long as I could, my friend.” He looked away, his hand stroking Fern's hair. “He told me what to expect before pulling me through. They told me but I didn't believe him. How could I believe them, despite the horror I saw in there?” The man sobbed. “Listen to me, Michael. Please, you have to finish this, you have to get them all, do you hear me? Get them all!”

He nodded once before rushing into the dining room. He needed to keep his focus on the task ahead, not contemplating over future consequences. Michael stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, seeing a door at the other end opening. He raised his gun and readied himself, knowing that all this would be over soon. Michael heard footsteps behind him but dare not turn around. It wasn't her, it couldn't be. The woman was in front of him.

Michael saw a flash of pink, followed by more movement. He rested his finger on the trigger, watching the woman come closer, only she wasn't alone. He stared in horror at the sight of a little boy struggling in her tight grip.

“Go ahead, pretty man,” she gurgled. “Shoot me dead and the boy dies too.” The woman giggled. “That's fucked you up. Now what are you going to do, pretty man? She walked closer before stopped beside a banks of microwaves. “What you're going to do is move out of my fucking way!” screamed the woman.

He saw the blade digging into the side of his neck. He didn't doubt her resolve to murder the kid, yet he couldn't let her go, he just couldn't. Michael sighed and started to lower his gun. The woman laughed. As soon as that blade was safely away from the boy's throat, he dropped to the floor and fired once. The round smacked into the woman's ankle. She dropped, shrieking. Michael ran forward, pulled the boy away. He turned around to see his friend limping into the kitchen.

“Turn him around Trevor!” he ordered, I don't want him to see this.” Michael pushed the muzzle of his gun against the side of her head. “Die, you bitch,” he said before he squeezed the trigger.

His friend hadn't turned the boy around. He held him at arm's length, while trying not to sob.

“What are you doing, man. It's over. It's finished.”

Trevor shook his head. “No it isn't,” he replied. “They're in him, hiding away, waiting for us to leave. It's what the ghost tried to tell you, it's why I'm here.” The man produced a knife from his belt. “Forgive me.”

“No!” cried Michael. He ran toward them but he couldn't stop Trevor sliding the blade across the boy's tender throat.

Both men dropped to the floor, their hands clamped against their ears as the boy's mouth dropped open and a thousand angry and distraught screams erupted from him. Michael blinked as bright blue sky appeared overhead., spears of sunlight illuminated the floor as the hotel walls crumbled around them. The screams softened and finally vanished along with every trace of the hotel. He slowly got to his feet, finding himself in a blood-soaked field along with over a dozen corpses and two other living human beings. He picked Trevor off the floor and helped him over to his beautiful Jodie.

“Is it finally over?” she asked.

He watched a couple of crows landing on the head of the girl who's once served him in that cafe. “It is now.”

Epilogue

Katie snapped open her eyes and found herself in a field. She had no idea how she had got here. The girl sat up and saw the tiny shapes of three figures on the horizon. This was most strange. Katie turned her head and found she wasn't alone. Two little boys were sitting beside her, they were playing with what looked like eyeballs.

“Hello Katie,” said the left boy, dropping the eyeballs onto the grass. “So glad you're back with us.”

The other boy sniggered.

“Okay, okay,” snapped the left boy. “Katie, you're not really with us. Thing is, you're still dead.”

“Am I? That's weird. I mean, I don't feel dead.”

“Not every part of you is in that state, Katie. The baby inside you is alive and well.”

Katie smiled. “That's nice,” she replied. “I like babies.”

The boy on the right took a deep breath. He stood up, lifted his foot and stamped on the eyeballs. “This is all your fault, you know. If you'd have listened to me in the first place, none of this one have happened.”

The boy on the left shrugged. “Stop fretting. Look, if it hadn't been for me ensuring we had a back-up, you wouldn't be here to say that to me.” He too got to his feet. “Come on, you. Let's get you to the farmhouse,” he said, taking hold of Katie's hand. There's a lot of work ahead of us.”

The End