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“You were always such a prick tease,” Jack murmurs, his stale breath fanning my face. “Always wearing tight tops, playing hard to get like you were too fucking good for me. Well today, you’re going to really get it.”
As my attacker continues to be spurred on by his mates, the energy evaporates from my body and it’s like the sound has been turned down on everything. My vision gets blurry, and a sea of men’s faces dance around me like a horrific kaleidoscope of colours. My cheek hurts so much from the slap I can barely move my jaw, but still Jack continues trying to force himself on me. His penis is now exposed, and I can feel his hard-on pressed up against thigh. I’m so disgusted I think I’ve thrown up in my mouth a little.
“Hey Jack,” snickers one of the devils. “When you’ve finished with her, can I have a go?”
“And me!” says another. “Break her in and make her nice and wet for me.”
“How ’bout we all take it in turns and battery out that pussy? Think she’ll like it?”
“Of course, she will, bruv. Skets love getting gang banged.”
Their sick words shake me to the core, and I try even more desperately to lash out and get Jack off me, but he’s far too strong. Shutting my eyes, I say silent prayers and prepare miserably to accept my fate.
And then it happens. An ear-piercing shriek of a man in excruciating pain. Gasping, I peer upwards and see the guy standing nearest me holding up one of his hands. Two fingers are missing, and he’s completely covered in blood, but things begin to move so quickly, I barely have time to register it. Next, something dark and shiny darts at lightning speed towards another of the men and tears into his face, ripping out pieces of flesh, sending blood spurting everywhere.
Instantly, Jack gets off me and backs away as the entire alley is suddenly filled with what looks like a sea of huge black glossy snakes, rippling and undulating like a terrifying tsunami from Hell. There are more awful screams. More blood. More flesh torn apart. The sound of bones snapping. I’m so scared, my mind simply can’t process the horrors unfolding before me. It doesn’t seem real, can’t be real. This is like something from a Science Fiction film, something unearthly that is impossible to describe.
Then I hear Jack screaming and I turn around to see one of the enormous snake-like vines darting towards him. With a shock, I realise for the first time that the creature has a mouth with multiple layers of teeth! It’s a living, breathing thing from another dimension. Before Jack can get away, the monstrous organism lunges for him and rips out a massive piece of flesh from his cheek. Jack collapses to the ground yelling so loud it’s like he’s being tortured. Somewhere else, I see a guy lying in a pool of blood, moaning quietly with what looks like one of his eyes gouged out. I have no words. No voice left to speak. All I can do is stare and stare and stare in absolute horror at the carnage left by these…these creatures.
What the actual fuck is happening?
There’s another shrill cry from one of the men, and I glance towards the entrance to the alley and what I see almost makes me pee my pants. Alex Kingswood is standing there in a hooded cloak, his face mottled with rage. Six massive black tentacles are writhing out from his back and his eyes glow a cold, demonic yellow. There’s not a trace of humanity left in him. The tentacles appear to all be separate living entities with mouths and tongues and teeth on the ends like some sort of otherworldly reptiles.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
No…this cannot be real, no way! I must be dreaming. Somebody pinch me and wake me up from this terrible nightmare.
Then suddenly, five of the tentacles slither through the darkness like monstrous leeches and travel up the legs of each of the men lying helplessly on the ground. Bile rises in my throat. There’s a chorus of ear-splitting shrieks as the creatures sink their fangs into their victims’ crotches. Alex smiles wickedly, and then, with one deadly twist of his waist, he rips out five sets of testicles, sending a fountain of blood and severed penises flying everywhere.
I throw up instantly.
What happens next is a surreal blur. Wiping the vomit from my lips, I try to make a run for it but am backed against the wall. Slowly, Alex walks towards me with his arms outstretched, but I start screaming louder than I ever have in my life. Jesus, I don’t want him anywhere near me! Looking left and right, I try to make a jump for it and claw at the brickwork in an attempt to climb up it.
But it’s no use, I’m totally stranded. There is nowhere to escape from Alex. I know it. He knows it.
Then the wave of undulating tentacles engulfs me, wrapping themselves around my body so tightly I can barely breathe. It feels as if I’m being strangled. Tighter and tighter they press into my bones like the deadly embrace of a King Cobra, and all I can see are Alex’s malevolent eyes glinting at me through the blackness.
Evil. Hypnotic. Mesmerising.
I gasp as one of the mighty tentacles worms its way up my blouse and envelops my throat in a lethal chokehold. Everything weaves and swarms around me, and my head starts to get light as the gruesome thing grips my neck so tightly, I’m momentarily prevented from breathing. A wave of sweet oblivion washes over me; the restricted blood flow leaving my body limp and floppy as a ragdoll. The last thing I remember before passing out is Alex’s hellish face gazing down at me. And then everything goes black.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jessica
Iopen my eyes and blink a couple of times. Slowly, my surroundings come into focus. I’m lying on a bed in a large, dimly lit room with opulent furniture and a bright fire burning in the hearth. Everything is pleasantly warm and toasty, the mattress blissfully soft and comfortable. For a few heartbeats, I’m confused and disoriented, with no idea where I am. Where is this place? Nothing seems familiar. My head hurts like hell and my entire body aches as if I’m on the verge of getting a fever.
Lifting the bed covers, I find that I’m wearing a black silk nightie, but have no recollection of how I came to be in it. Who dressed me? Come to that, who brought me here? If this isn’t my bedroom, then who’s is it? Where are my Spice Girls posters?
Drifting in and out of consciousness, I can just make out a dark shape sitting beside the bed. As my eyes grow accustomed to the gloom, I realise it is Alex Kingswood, sprawled in a high-backed armchair, his face shrouded in shadow. At first my mind can’t comprehend the scenario unfolding before me and I’m lost in a daze of incoherence.
“What time is it?” I mumble.
“Nearly four in the morning,” he replies. “You’ve been out cold for a good couple of hours.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
