Consumed (11 page)

The restraints were straining as she pulled and twisted against them harder – straining
,
but not giving.

Her captor kissed down her stomach, another flick of his tongue - this time across her belly button. Hardly a pause before he continued moving southwards. A kiss against her pubic area. A small moan escaped his lips. A small whimper of panic, as she realised what was to come, from hers. He moved lower until his head was between her legs. A pause. She could feel his rancid breath against her vagina.

The restraints still refused to budge from her desperate squirming.

He breathed in deeply and sighed once more.

She clenched, bracing herself for what was to come; another flick of his tongue. Perhaps an experimental probing of his index finger? Nothing came. She opened her eyes and looked down. He was still there, between her legs. He was looking up at her. His eyes almost black in this light. Soulless. The lust and hunger overshadowing previous thoughts of despair and hatred for his father. He smiled.

“You smell great,” he repeated. He continued looking at her as he moved himself lower. He stopped just before he reached her knee and promptly ran his tongue up the inside of her quivering thigh.

The damned restraints not allowing any freedom. She couldn’t help but whimper. Tears of fear turned to those of disgust  as they ran down her pale cheeks.

He stopped when he reached her vagina again.

A lick of his lips.

“Salty. Your fear tastes salty. One can only imagine what that’ll do to the flavour of...”

He ran his hand up the inside of leg, where he had just licked. Whereas his face had stopped just before her vagina, his hand didn’t. His determined fingers ran across her labia.

“Please don’t...” she mumbled around the ball-gag but he ignored her. His fingers forcing themselves to slowly part her lips. His breath so close that she knew it was only a matter of seconds before she’d feel his lips against her skin again.

He suddenly stopped and withdrew his fingers.

She opened her eyes in time to see him climb from the table with a look of shame on his face. His eyes back to a more normal colour as though he had come to his senses - brought back, with a bump, by his own guilty conscience.

“No,” he whispered - more or less to himself. “No.” He turned and hurried from the room, closing the door behind him.

Charlotte couldn’t help but let slip with a sigh of relief even though she knew it was far from over. She called out, “Somebody help me!” despite knowing the chances of anyone coming to her aid were slim.

* * * * *

Tammy was in her bedro
om, against Dan’s corpse, crying on the soiled bed. Suzanne was sitting on the side of the bed trying to comfort her.

“What’s happened?” she asked. “What is it? Tell me...” Suzanne didn’t need Tammy to say what was causing the tears. She knew only too well. She had been in the same position herself. She recognised the limp that Tammy walked with when she passed Suzanne’s bedroom to get to her own room. It was a limp she had walked with on many occasions - usually late at night after her father had paid her a visit, drunk on the taste of flesh. For him to attack Tammy without even a hint of the taste of flesh, without even taking a taste of what was to come...Clearly he was already in a
frenzied mood. Suzanne put her arm around Tammy but still Tammy didn’t say what was wrong. She just buried her face against Suzanne’s chest as though it was a safe haven from any monsters looming.

There was a gentle knock on the door.

“Come in,” Suzanne called out - she hoped that, whoever it was, they’d be able to have more success in calming Tammy down.

Johnny pushed the door open, “Can I come in?”

Suzanne nodded. Johnny stepped into the room and shut the door behind him, after a quick look to make sure his father wasn’t nearby.

“Are you okay?” he asked Tammy. He had partly felt responsible for what had happened. It had been his idea to tell their parents what Tammy had done - not that they had had much of a choice. She didn’t respond. “We need to do something about him...” It didn’t matter that Suzanne heard him. He knew she had suffered at the hands of Robert too. They all had. “We shouldn’t have to live like this...In fear of him...”

“It’s not him,” said Suzanne.

“Bullshit, who else is it?”

“You know who.”

“No, I don’t believe in that. And you don’t either,” he retorted.

“Maybe we should,” she continued.

“Believe in what?” asked Tammy, wiping away the tears from her cheeks.

“You don’t remember the stories dad told us as we were growing up?” asked Suzanne.

She shook her head.

“Don’t even start, Suzanne...None of it...It’s not true. It’s just stories. Some little tribes in North America...Around that area...Stories to tell their children...To scare them away from what we have grown up enjoying...”

“Tell me,” Tammy insisted.

“I don’t think our dad is always himself,” said Suzanne. “He used to tell us of a legend...Told by...I think...Algonquian people...The legend of Wendigo...”

“Why are you telling her this? You don’t believe in it...You said so yourself.”

“Maybe I was wrong. We were wrong.” She continued, “A malevolent spirit that could possess humans. People who were...People who liked...What we like...Flesh...Human flesh...We are more at risk.”

“Then why haven’t we been possessed?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps because he has been doing it for longer. They say that, when possessed, you’d become violent and obsessed with eating human flesh...You know how hungry he can get...You know how violent he can get too.”

Tammy started to cry again, “But...I couldn’t stop myself either.”

“What do you mean?”

“I knew I shouldn’t have done what I did but I couldn’t stop myself. From the moment they got here...I knew what I wanted and, at the first opportunity, I took it.”

“It’s not the same,” said Suzanne. “You were just hungry. We all are. It’s been months since we’ve had a good meal. A proper meal. Other meat just doesn’t satisfy the cravings as much. You are not like him, though. None of us are. We wouldn’t hurt each other...We wouldn’t. How many times has he hurt you?”

“I forgot.”

“I try to too,” nodded Suzanne. “Too many times to count. Too many times to forget. He isn’t our father anymore. He is something else.”

“So you agree we need to do something then?” Johnny butted in.

Suzanne nodded, “What about Stephen and mum though?”

“They’re either with us or against us.”

“And what about our guests?” Suzanne enquired further.

Johnny smiled, “I’m sure we’ll work up a hunger.”

* * * * *

“Who’s that?” asked Joel with a hint of fear in his voice. He was tied to a chair with ropes around his wrists and ankles. Unbeknownst to him, in the same position behind him was Lara.

“Joel? Is that you?”

“Lara?” Joel tried to turn his head to see her but couldn’t. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she replied - the same fear in her voice. “I just woke up here. What happened?”

“I’m the same. Just woke up. Can you see anything?” he asked.

“No.”

They were sitting in one of the house’s many rooms - not that they knew that as all the lights were off and there appeared to be no windows to let in any light or glimpse of their surroundings.

“I’m scared,” Lara whispered.

Joel wanted to tell her that everything was okay. He wanted to tell her that he’d protect her from whoever did this to them. He wanted to say it but didn’t because he knew it would’ve been nothing more than a lie - a lie which would have been easy for anyone to detect.

“Me too,” he whispered back.

“Where are the others?”

Again, he didn’t answer. Lara didn’t expect him to. It was more of a rhetorical question. After all,
in the position he was in, there was no way for him to know where any of their friends were. He startled to struggle against the ropes which had him locked to the wooden chair.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Can you get your hands free?” he replied as he still battled against his restraints.

“I don’t know,” she started to fight against her ropes too. “They’re tight,” she moaned.

“Fuck!”

“What is it?” she asked.

“Nothing. I cut myself on the rope. Fuck!” he said again. “What the fuck is going on? Where are we?”

“I don’t know!” said Lara. She started to cry as fear took hold of her senses.

“Lara, it’s okay. It’s okay. Just try and remember. Do you remember anything before waking up here?” he asked. “Anything at all?”

“I just remember that we were waiting for dinner. The old lady...She gave us some drinks and we drank.”

“The lemonade,” Joel suddenly realised what had happened, “it was drugged.”

“What? It couldn’t have been. She wouldn’t have!”

“She wouldn’t? You don’t even know her.”

“And you do? She seemed nice. They all did.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he pointed out to her. “Obviously there’s some fucked up family shit going on in here and we’re slap bang in the middle of it.” He started to fight against the ropes again, despite the damage they were doing to his wrists.

“What are you doing?” asked Lara. The more Joel fought against the ropes, the more he was bumping into her back.

“We can’t just sit here and wait for whoever it is to come back. We need to get out of here. And now.”

“What about the others?”

“They’re probably trying to get out too,” he pointed out. “If they’re even alive.”

“What?!” another flood of panic rushed through her body.

“Nothing. I’m being dramatic. Come on, we need to get out of here. Can you get your hands free? Anything? If one of us can get out...We can help the other...” he continued. “Before they come back!”

Light flooded into the room as the door suddenly opened - giving both Lara and Joel a view of their prison; a derelict room. No carpets, just wooden floorboards. No wallpaper, or even paint, just bricks. There was nothing. When Lara’s eyes adjusted to the sudden light, in the room, she noticed Stephen standing in the doorway.

“Hi,” he said. “Can I get you guys anything to eat or drink?”

“Quick!” whispered Joel, when he realised it was Stephen standing in the doorway. “Undo the ropes.”

Stephen laughed, “Undo them? It took me ages to do them up - why the Hell would I want to undo them?”

“Please...” said Lara.

“Oh ssh now!” said Stephen. “I came here, in good spirits, asking you if you fancied anything to eat. I didn’t come for an argument. Now, are you hungry or not?” He stepped into the room.

“Of course we don’t, you sick fuck. We want to go home...What are you playing at? What do you want?” shouted Joel.