Fear the Dark

Williams must have pressed the button, because the next thing she knew she had crashed against the floor. Her skin and brain on fire, she rolled on to her side, gasping, and saw Williams staring down at her. Black gloves covered his hands now, and he held two new items: a pair of steel handcuffs and a hunting knife with a long, curved, sickle-like blade.

Don’t let him cuff you, she thought, gasping in mouthfuls of much-needed air. If he cuffs you it’s over.

Williams swung his foot back. Darby knew he was going to kick her, knew that if she tried to protect her stomach with her arms and hands, he might break her fingers. She tried to turn away, but his shoe slammed into her stomach. Air exploded past her throat and bright stars exploded across her vision. She curled into a foetal position and she used her arms to protect her face. She couldn’t fight him if he broke her nose or, worse, delivered a kick that would swell her eyes shut.

But he didn’t kick her. Instead, he dropped the handcuffs to the floor, grabbed a fistful of hair from the back of her head and pulled her up, no doubt wanting to smash her face on the floor.

Mistake. Darby wasn’t afraid to fight, knew how to fight. She braced an arm against the floor and then, using all of her strength, spun around to face him. Williams, still clutching her hair, was knocked off balance; he didn’t let go, and, as he fell sideways, towards the wall, his right hand, the one holding the knife, reached out to brace his fall. The blade scrapped against the concrete wall, twisting his wrist at an odd angle, and he screamed.

Darby screamed as she rose to her knees. Screaming meant delivering oxygen to her bloodstream. She had him pi

But not his fight; he still had plenty of that in him, and she swore she saw him smile as he knocked her back against the wall. Her head was slammed against the concrete, pain and terror exploding through her skull; but her eyes were pi

Darby turned and moved towards him. Swung the knife and saw the curved blade slice through his cheek and slash his left eye.

The howl that escaped his lips exploded off the walls and drilled into her head. His hands clutched at his face, blood and spittle spraying from his gloved fingers as he screamed again, and Darby felt something inside her break away and soar like a bird being released from a cage and given a chance to fly. He rolled on the floor, clawing at his face, kicking his feet. She moved to him, ready to put an end to this, when she heard the whine of the motor hidden somewhere inside the ceiling.

How? She had assumed he’d put the remote in his pocket. Then an i

But she didn’t let go of the knife. She sawed at the lead wildly, the blade cutting her fingers, as Williams staggered to his feet. His face was buried in his shaking hands, and he screamed through his bloody fingers. Blinded him, she thought. Please let him be blind. The pressure on her neck was immense. She gasped desperately for air and kept sawing and sawing as Williams stumbled blindly towards the cell door. He had left it open – and he had left the remote for the shock collar on one of the bars.

The pain in my left eye is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It feels like hot shrapnel is buried deep in the socket. The only way I can save my eye is to keep the heel of my palm mashed up against it, no matter how agonizing it feels.

The door for the cell is open. I’m staggering over to it when I hear a thud, and I turn and see the McCormick bitch on the floor. She’s on the floor because she’s severed the lead. The bitch managed to cut through it because she has my knife, it’s still gripped in her hand. I reach out to grab the shock collar remote and end up knocking it off the bar. The remote lands somewhere on the floor outside the cell, and there’s no time to reach it and there’s no time to lock her up in here because the bitch has gotten to her feet, she’s holding the knife and she’s coming for me.

I have to use both hands to climb the ladder. I can’t see out of my ruined eye, can’t close it to prevent the blood and whatever else from spilling down my cheek. As I look up at the opening, all the women I brought down here race through my mind. They all fought back – I wanted them to fight back, it’s what makes life worth living – and the McCormick bitch was supposed to act just like the rest of them, scratching and clawing and kicking the way women do. I underestimated her, but it’s not my fault. I didn’t know she was inhuman. A monster.

I move past the opening and crawl out, on to the shed floor. All I have to do is slam the trapdoor on her and lock it. I’ve spun around, on to my side, and grabbed the trapdoor when the bitch pops out of the opening like a jack-in-the-box. I try to push the trapdoor down, but the top part of her body is already out and she’s pushing against the door with her shoulder. Her other arm wiggles out and I see she’s holding my knife and she slashes at my arm and wrist until I let go.

But there’s still hope. I throw open the doors and scramble away. The backyard’s sensor lights are off at the moment, but there’s a full moon, the sky is packed with bright stars, and I can make out the path that’s been shovelled in the snow.

I wipe the blood away from my good eye and then I see her, my precious Sarah, standing at the window overlooking the backyard. The lights inside the kitchen are on, and as I run to her I can see her washing something in the sink, her pink bathrobe open, revealing the special lingerie she wears for me. Her body is much plumper now, her thighs are riddled with cellulite and her skin is begi

‘SARAH!’

I hear feet ru

And then she is all over me. She hits me full in the face with her other hand and the next blow shatters my nose. I throw up my arms to protect myself, but this succubus is too strong and too powerful, with fists like concrete. She hits me again and again in a demonic fury and I beg her to stop.

‘Shut up,’ McCormick hisses, and the next blow to my skull makes my arms go limp and fall uselessly by my sides. I’m defenceless, at her mercy, and yet her fists keep raining down on my face and skull, and through the blood and pain I see her smile. ‘Shut up and bleed.’

Again I beg her to stop and then I realize she can’t hear me because I’m choking on blood and teeth – my blood, my teeth – and I can’t see or hear Sarah oh please help me baby I love you so much –

81

Darby was straddling Williams when the back door flew open.

At first she couldn’t take in the situation. The backyard sensor lights clicked on as Nicky Hubbard, dressed in a pair of snow boots and a pink bathrobe, rushed out on to the path. Beneath the robe she wore a black halter fishnet body stocking, and she had a shotgun gripped in her hands.