Depravity (19 page)

The woman now known as Fern nodded her head. Kevin liked her the best. That's not to say that he wouldn't enjoy playing with the other woman, but he couldn't shake that notion that she belonged to the town. It couldn't be though, although Kevin might have only been able to place a few of their faces, each and every one of the degenerates who lived close by had with them a presence, a stink of ownership. Kevin sighed to himself. He probably had that stink as well. The woman not called Fern didn't know him, nor was she familiar with his hotel, those facts were perfectly clear.

Just to be on the safe side, Kevin would only take Fern. Despite the fun and games he had tonight, caution was still his watch word. He just needed to come up with a reason to separate them, perhaps even to get the blonde out of his hotel, preferably without suspicion. Kevin kept his eye on the blonde who, as expected, wasn't having much luck with the connection, no shock there. The phone service didn't work that great during the day. After nightfall, it hardly ever worked.

Kevin followed his gaze across to the open door that led to his study, still trying to work out how to separate them. The champagne might help. He almost lost his genteel hotelier expression when he noticed little Alistair standing in the spot that he had previously vacated.

It couldn't be the real one, there was no way he would be able to get out of that cellar unaided. Kevin spoke from experience there. Would Angela let him out? He remembered how weird she got when it came to new possessions. No, not even she would be that idiotic. Besides, by now, that kid would be filthy. The dirt down there was insidious, it infected your very pores, and the little boy by the fireplace literally shined.

His fears dissipated when the other one, his younger self leaned around the edge of Kevin's armchair, although his relief did dampen a little when he spotted that the little bastard had already helped himself to some of his very expensive champagne.

For a start, his younger self was way too young to be drinking alcohol. “Can I get you two ladies a warm drink whilst you're waiting?”

“Oh, yes please,” replied Fern. “Two coffees would be super, if that's okay?”

He let out a disarming chuckle. “Not a problem. Now, if you'll excuse me?” Kevin hurried into the study and clicked the door shut. Kevin didn't think the women would be able to see the two apparitions but he wasn't taking any chances, not now.

Kevin also decided that he would ask the two boys if he could keep not just the sexy Fern but also the other one as well. Doing that Anna earlier had showed him just how much fun it really could be. Now, he believed that he was closer to understanding his pretend dad's sexual urges. The excitement of being fully in charge of a situation, and seeing the fury and terror in another person's eyes really does boost the libido.  He couldn't see how the two boys would even be able to refuse his request. Not after what he'd done for them tonight.

If Kevin was going to be truthful, even if it was only to himself. Kevin didn't really wish to fuck Angela again. That thought he had earlier about the cellar dirt getting into every skin pore really did apply to her. She smelled funny, like she had grown out of one of his pretend mum's raised beds.

“Hello there, chaps,” he said, keeping the genteel hotelier expression on his face. Kevin wanted to keep the tone light here. He really did want to keep those two women. “You both look fantastic, by the way. I'm guessing that the fun and games that myself and my new wife, your two servants, had here helped in some way?”

“Alistair looked at the boy and they both stared past Kevin and stared at the closed door. “What are we going to do now?”

The boy shook his head, then drained the last of the liquid in the glass. “So, they were right after all, our farmhouse is occupied.”

“How did we not know this?”

Kevin had no idea what they were talking about. All he knew that while these two were muttering on, his two women would soon be wondering where those drinks were. “Excuse me. Erm, both of you. I am here you know, standing here, wondering why you're not talking to me.” Perhaps they couldn't see him? Kevin hadn't considered that thought. Maybe, just maybe, these two thought they were somewhere else and were having a private conversion, not knowing that he was listening in. He counted to five slowly, waiting for one of them to acknowledge his existence.

As weird and as exciting as this was, Kevin still needed to get those two coffees made. There was no way he could allow his two new sex-toys to leave his hotel. He stopped dead, realising what he'd just said. Kevin grinned. It looked like his subconscious had already made the decision for him. Kevin was going to have the pair of them after all. This was so exciting.

“Why does the idiot have that stupid grin plastered across his face?” asked the boy.

“Stay where you are, you fucking clown,” growled Alistair. “This is all your fault.”

“How can you be sure of that?” Kevin's younger self poured another glass of champagne. “I'll agree that of all the avatars we've used over the millennia, this is pretty far down on the food chain but he's still useful. I'll grudgingly admit that you've done a good job in reshaping him. We'll be able to use the pair of them without worry now.”

“It's not the future that worries me,” replied Alistair. He glared at Kevin. “It's the past. The ones at the farmhouse are going to be big fucking trouble. How do you think they were able to evade our attention?” He threw up his arms. “I'll tell you how, the bastards had help.”

“Can I make that coffee now?” asked Kevin. “Only I think those two women might be wondering where I had gotten to.”

This was bad, this was oh so bad. Kevin still had no idea what those two were talking about. It didn't matter though, he saw the signs. The two boys meant him harm. Unlike the torture, there would be no underlying message. Kevin was in big fucking trouble. They walked over to him, his perception changing by the second. Without him understanding how they'd done it, Kevin found himself looking up at their glowering face. So much for keeping the tone light.

“Look inside that mass of depraved jelly, this creature really is the epitome of what we've tried to achieve.” The boy smiled at Alistair. Don't you think it's ironic that after such a long time, our answer has always been there, right under our noses.”

Alistair rubbed his bottom jaw. “Look at the dull light behind his tiny eyes. He really has no idea what is happening.” Alistair rested both his hands on the man's shoulders. “It's quite simple. You fucked up. Not today. Your massacre was most enjoyable, even if you did play with our food despite receiving explicit instructions to kill the dangerous one first.”

“I'm sorry, I really am. Please don't hurt me again?”

“Shut up, Kevin. Look, all those people you killed for us...”

“There weren't that many,” muttered the boy.

“Okay, the few that you killed, Kevin. Well, some of them escaped. Don't look at me like that, you moron. I'm obviously not talking about their physical bodies.”

“Did you scan the women?” asked the boy.

Alistair nodded. It was my first act. I take it you've just done the same?”

“The one called Jodie lives at the farmhouse with her husband.” He shivered. “I find it difficult to comprehend how such a damaged soul is able to heal.”

“That healing process is far from over, my friend. I'll admit, the fact she is able to show signs of repair is a surprise. Right now though, she is still very much a prize.” Alistair gently lifted Kevin up. “I don't want you to worry about anything. We're not going to hurt you. Also don't you fret about the two women leaving, that's not going to happen. In fact, your wife is right now looking after them. Now perhaps you should sit down in your armchair and finish off that champagne.” He turned to Kevin's younger self. “You do know that this Michael, the one who caused all the uproar in town will be coming here.”

“I hope so. Even now, that soul is worth more than all the souls we've consumed in the past decade.”

“I agree, but there's no way this fool and his new wife will be able to take care of that one. He's even more dangerous than the soldier.”

The boy walked over to the door and pulled it open just a crack. “Then we get help. What's the point of having supplicants if you can't use them?” The boy turned and smiled at Kevin. “Then we purge again. These walls will soon be ringing with the shrieks of the dying. It is going to be fucking glorious!”

Chapter Eight

The End of the Line

The last dull yellow light had extinguished exactly three minutes ago. Michael's remaining beacon from the town now joined its comrades in slumber. All that remained in this rectangle was utter blackness. He kept his face pressed against the cold glass, knowing that if he moved back, Michael's anguished face would be there to taunt him. At this moment, he wouldn't be able to deal with that, not without slamming his fist through this fucking window. He already had enough anguish vomiting from Trevor's mouth.

He'd shaken the goon out of his drunken sleep only five minutes ago. According to Trevor, Michael was a complete cunt for doing that for he now had a hangover that could floor an elephant. His growls only altered their tones when Michael explained that the girls still hadn't returned. He was still waiting for the apology.

Seven o'clock came and went, so did the next hour. At nine, Michael abandoned his plan to scout the hotel, and started to get in touch with Jodie. He let the man who'd managed to consumed three quarters of a bottle of single malt to sleep it off, figuring having another male worrying wouldn't be a great idea.

“Still no sign of them, Michael?”

“No. I have an idea, why don't you try ringing Fern's mobile again? It must be at least four minutes since you last tried.”

“I guess.”

Sarcasm was wasted on a man still recovering from alcohol abuse, just like tolerance was wasted on him. “Are you ready yet, Trevor? You can try again when we're moving.”

“Jesus, man. Look, it's only just past midnight, they're probably still in a pub, or maybe they've crashed at your old place. Right now, the pair of them will be finishing off yet another bottle of wine while laughing like idiots.”

Michael mentally threw a bucket of ice water on the fury that erupted after those mealy lame words fell out of Trevor's mouth. That shithead was only thinking about his own well-being, the fact that he just wanted to go back to bed and sleep off the booze.

What else did Michael honestly expect from Trevor? He could hardly tell the fella about the visions, about ghosts visiting him, that the reason why Trevor felt like crap was due to the amount of malt Michael poured down the man's throat. “Are you ready to leave yet?”

Trevor sighed. “In a minute, man. Jesus, let me come round.”

“Right, just don't take all fucking night about it.” Michael brushed past him and left the man to feel sorry for himself. Right now, he was ready to leave him here. In fact, he had no idea why he'd woken him up in the first place. Hell, what good was he going to be anyway? Michael expected trouble, that much was pretty fucking obvious. The last thing he needed was some dizzy-minded clown getting under his feet. The man would be a liability, a danger to himself, Michael and the mission.

He paused, not too sure where those thoughts had come from, he and Trevor were just going to take a ride to see if they could find the girls. He was making it sound like he was preparing for war. Michael backtracked. “Trevor?” he said, turning around. “Just see if you can meet me outside in five minutes, okay? I just need to collect something from the bedroom.”

Thing is, Michael was preparing for war, why even try to disguise this as something else? Otherwise he wouldn't be on the way to the bedroom.

Apart from making the living room and kitchen look halfway decent, the rest of the rooms were full of boxes, still waiting to be unpacked. The pair of them were due to start finding places for the items stored in the bedroom tomorrow afternoon, a few hours after Michael had placed a couple of his items in a more secure location. Finding better hiding places was supposed to happen today. He sighed. So much for organisation.

Michael had purchased them from a friend of a friend when he decided to 'adjust' the books with Jodie's perverted family. After spending all that money, Michael found he didn't need them after all. He should have gotten rid of them already, not that a German 9mm pistol and an Israeli assault rifle would be that easy to shift. Michael could hardly take them down to the nearest charity shop.

He did intend to break them apart and bury the pieces as soon as he could, all that changed when he arrived here. Dismantling the weapons and dropping them into a big hole suddenly didn't seem like the best idea in the world.

Even from where he stood, his friend's disgruntled voice found him. Trevor didn't sound all that impressed about moving from his warm nest and out into that cold and dark countryside. How could his friend not see the potential danger here? Even without all the weird shit happening, Michael's inbuilt radar would be spinning like the three drums in a fruit machine.

Right now, that delicate mechanism was doing just that and it wasn't because of his missing wife. He stopped a few inches from his bedroom door, sensing that he and Trevor weren't the only ones in the house.

He tensed up when a shadow inside his bedroom moved on its own volition. There wasn't any time to shout out for assistance, not that Michael needed any. This was his home and as far as he was concerned, anybody sneaking around deserved everything coming to them. Michael clenched both fists. No fucker breaks into his place. He dropped into a crouch, dived through the open door, rolled forward then swung his left leg out in a wide arc, confident that his intruder would find themselves kissing the carpet. Once on the floor, he was going to pin them down and punch the bastard into the middle of next week.

Michael cried out in total shock when his foot passed through the intruder's legs. He growled and scurried over to the door, only for it to slam in his face. He jumped up, his blood was boiling with rage.

The first thing he saw were his two guns, neatly arranged on the white bed covers, complete with the spare magazines as well as a box of shells for the pistol. His gaze moved over to the window where a large, well-built man stood in the corner, his arms folded and a smirk on his face.

Michael didn't move, his fire put out by the fact that he could make out the patterned wallpaper through his semi-opaque torso.

“So, who the fuck are you then, the ghost of Christmas bollocks? Are you going to try to make me eat a pile of dog-shit tasting cakes as well?

The stranger chuckled. “I had you down for some week-willed toffee-nosed ex-officer. We had one like that when I was in Afghanistan. He came out with smart arsed crap like that. The ghost bit is right though, Michael. Until a few moments ago, I was alive as you are.; That all changed when that fat fuck, the cunt who runs that hotel put a crossbow through my head, right after making me watch him brutalise then murder my beautiful wife!” The ghost choked back a sob. “Shit, sorry. Look, dude, please, I need you to listen to what I have to say, because, right now. That hotel is where your wife has just entered.”

“You what?” Michael yelled. “Then why the fuck are we talking? Get that door open, man!” He spun around and banged his fists against the wood. “Trevor! Come on, get your arse in here. Trevor, for crying out loud!”

“He's not going to hear you, Michael. I put him back to sleep. You can't allow him to become involved in this. Too many innocents have already lost their lives. Trevor would not survive.”

“Christ, man. Look, I'm really sorry about what's happened to you and your wife. Just let me go so I can stop it from hurting Jodie!”

The ghost sighed loudly then sat down on the bed. “There are greater forces at work here, and these forces can't wait to get you up to that hotel, only the bastards don't want you to arrive too early, not until they've made their preparations. They've already called for reinforcements. Not trusting the two already up there to put you out of commission. They only got me because the cunt hit me when I was sleeping. Believe me on this one though, not one hair on your wife's petty little head will be touched until you get there.”

Michael attempted to calm down. It was obvious that brute force wasn't going to get him anywhere. “How do you know that she's not going to be harmed?”

“Practicality,” he answered. “These monsters feed on our souls. They derive nutrition from them. Think of each soul as some kind of recording device, storing every memory, every experience, your actions, and thoughts. The more traumatic the experience suffered, the richer the nutrition.”

“Oh fuck.”

The ghost nodded. “You and your wife will be like giving prime steak to a horde of starving wolves. No, they'll wait until they get both of you first, then they'll make you watch as that fat bastard makes the poor girl suffer. Unlike what that bastard did to Anna, he'll make you last for days. Once she's finally dead, then they'll do the same to you.”

“Thank you,” he growled. “Yeah well, that's not going to happen.” Michael stormed over to the bed and grabbed the assault rifle. It felt good in his hands. “Okay, we've talked. I know the score now open that fucking door. I'll walk if I have to.”

“You're not going anywhere until I finish. Don't you think those monsters know about your past now, Michael? They know how dangerous you are. Those reinforcements are not going to be carrying some kitchen knives and a hedge trimmer. They'll have guns, just like you and they've been ordered to disable you. If you're going to go into this, should you not at least plan ahead first?”

He sat on the edge of the bed, picked up the pistol and tucked it into his bed before checking to ensure the weapons were ready to fire. He wasn't going to ask how they somehow appeared on the bed, what was the point of that? “Tell me something,” he said quickly. “You told me that they know I'm here now. We've been here for days. More to the point, why should they give a shit about me or Jodie? From what I've learned, those monsters have been running that little murder factory for a long time.” He thought about all the old cars in that museum. The hotel and the freaks in that town must have been at this for generations. “Come on, why am I so important to them?

“Christ, man. Have you not been paying attention? It's because you have the power to stop this evil. Why do you think you were chosen in the first place? You are a ruthless bastard, and yet you have a sharply defined sense of right and wrong. For the first time in thousands of years, these monsters are actually frightened of a human. As to why they didn't know about you, the other ghost  has you in plain sight. This farmhouse belongs to them, it's part of the hotel, a bolt hole, in case anything happened to their primary hunting lair. It's how the dead were able to communicate with you.”

“So why the fuck didn't any of them say any of this earlier, instead of trying to make me eat cakes?”

“You have no idea what these poor creatures sacrificed in order to get you here. All that remained of their souls were just strands and tattered wisps, and yet they were still able to get you to this place and hide you. What they achieved is frankly astounding.”

“What about you then? I mean, if it wasn't for the light shining through your body, I wouldn't even know you were dead.”

“Yeah well, right now, my soul is still in one piece. They are too concerned with organising your capture than eating.” He shuddered. “Call me selfish, but I don't want that to happen to me.” The ghost stood up and walked through the bed and stood opposite the bedroom wardrobe. It was the only piece of furniture that belonged to his wife. The piece once lived in the girl's bedroom. He removed it after he'd finished dealing with her family. Jodie had no idea that it was her original wardrobe. Thanks to a friend who sanded it down, re-varnished it and replaced all the fittings. One day he planned to tell Jodie that it was her original wardrobe and not some piece that he'd picked up in a furniture shop.

“What are you doing?”

“It's time to go now, my friend. Already, I sense their recruits closing in on the hotel. There's ten of them and they are all armed. Remember, they too will be fighting for their existence. They've been told that if they fail, then their souls will be consumed.”

“Whatever, just hurry up and open the bedroom door.”

The ghost nodded but instead of gliding past Michael, he tapped on the edge of the wardrobe that resulted in both the doors swinging open.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Both locations are linked, Michael. Did I not explain that already? This route will take us straight to the hotel.”

Michael suppressed a harsh chuckle. “You must be having a laugh here?”

“Are you ready?”

“Whatever, let's get on with this bullshit.”

“You listen to me, gobshite!” he shouted. “It isn't fucking Narnia in there. This is a conduit. To get to the hotel, we must pass through the realm of the dead. I have substance in there, just like all the other denizens.”  The ghost leaned forward. “That includes a couple of people who you buried, do you understand what I'm saying here?”

Michael fingered the pistol. “I killed them once, I'll do it again if they try anything.”

“Don't be too sure about that. Now listen, in real time, the journey will be instantaneous, but time is weird in there. It'll feel longer for you.”

Michael shrugged, weird is one thing that he was getting used to. He grabbed the side of the door and followed the ghost inside.

2

Greg James brushed his fingers over the top of his trilby, while his eyes followed the contours of the service pistol he'd brought along. It hadn't belonged to him, of course. Then again, apart from his teeth and his hair, Greg hadn't truly owned anything.