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‘Jesus!’
‘Hugh?’
‘You twisted little bitch.’
‘It’s Rosenhall’s kid!’
‘What the fuck did you do to him?’
‘He kindly provided you all with dinner. That delicious lasagne was mostly made from his thigh.’ Glee filled me as more than one of them retched. Vomit joined candle wax and wine on the floor.
‘You didn’t,’ said David, the one who was a fucking music teacher. Having such a disgusting prick in charge of youths made me sick.
‘Oh, but I did. I cut a great hunk of his thigh while he screamed and begged before making him watch me chop it into tiny chunks. Then I minced it and fried it up so nicely with all of the other ingredients. And now, he’s inside of you all. Shame he won’t be in there long enough to rot inside you.’
A commotion drew my eyes to the other side of the room. I turned to see one of the men had grabbed Alfie, holding a flick knife to his throat. Petros wasn’t close enough to do anything about it, and neither was I.
‘Listen, you crazy fucking whore, I don’t care what the fuck we did to you, but if you don’t let us out of here right now, I’ll slit his throat.’
George pushed his seat back as I cocked my gun.
‘They can’t stop us all. Fuck you lot, I’m out.’
I shot him once, the bullet going through his shoulder and bringing him to his knees, clutching at the wound.
Petros made to tackle the man holding Alfie, but I shook my head at him as he caught my eye. Any second now...
A cough from the table drew my attention. A fresh red splatter of blood coated Hugh’s distended stomach. One of the men lunged at me, stumbling in the process. He landed on the carpet at my feet, his mouth moving in a silent plea as blood seeped from his lips. I didn’t feel an ounce of pity.
The knife-wielding Alfie-snatcher was bleeding from his eyes, great rivers of red streaming down his cheeks. Alfie turned and pushed him away, the knife clattering to the floor, useless.
‘Well, that was close,’ Alfie chuckled, the sounds of death rattles and pained begging surrounding us.
‘Nah, I had it in hand,’ I replied.
Petros looked like he was about ready to pass out. It was like a morbid Last Supper scene. With Hugh a fat, stuffed pig right in the centre of the dying group of abusers. Laughing to myself, I fetched an apple from the kitchen and pulled his mouth open, presenting Hugh like the swine he was.
I dusted my hands off, satisfied with my work.
It wasn’t until I went back into the kitchen that a coldness flooded my body, filling in every little part of me that I’d kept controlled for so long.
I’d faced my demons, and I won. They were dead. All the twisted, horrific things they had put me through had been brought up in a judgement day of my very own.
And I’d executed every last one of them.
Not nicely with a bullet through the skull, but with a belly full of their friend and their insides haemorrhaging out of their pathetic fucking faces.
My legs gave way with the enormity of the situation hitting me like a runaway lorry. Cold tiles hit my knees as I dropped to the floor, the pain nothing but a dull ache. Gasping, I tried to inhale, my chest on fire.
A low keening noise filled my ear. It was coming from me. Panic set in as the world closed in around me, my darkness no longer contained inside me as it spluttered out of my face in the form of sobs and snot.
‘Harriet!’ Petros was on his knees beside me in a moment, wrapping me up in those thick, safe arms. ‘You’re going to be okay. We’re here. We’ll always be here.’
More heat hit my other side, Alfie’s lips pressing into my hair, his hand caressing my back in slow, relaxing strokes.
‘Let it all out, little monster. It’s time to let it all go. They don’t exist inside you anymore. They don’t exist at all. You did it. They can never hurt anyone again.’ His words were murmured into my ear as they both rocked me softly in their arms.
‘They can never hurt you again. You’re ours, and we’re yours.’ Petros soothed me, neither of them flinching at the sobs which took over my body.
