Authors: Bryan Smith
It was a long time before they took her to Andras.
T
WENTY-FIVE
When the end-of-the-day bell rang at three that afternoon, Kevin Cooper bolted from his usual seat at the back of his sociology class and was out of the room before anyone else. He banged through the door and took off down the hallway at high speed.
Mr. Harris, standing behind his desk at the front of the classroom, glanced at the door as it began to swing shut. Then, smirking, he peered at the rest of his still-seated students over the top of his reading glasses. “I’d like you all to finish reading chapter eight from your textbooks tonight and write a one-page summary of the material. I won’t ask any of you to pass this information along to Mr. Cooper as he clearly has more important business to tend to today.”
Several of his students laughed dutifully as they began to gather their books and wander out.
Kent Hickerson stayed seated a moment longer, turning around and leaning backward to speak in hushed tones to Brett Hogan. “You wanna watch Cooper get his ass kicked?”
Brett smiled. “So it’s finally happening?”
Kent stood, slinging his book bag over his shoulder. “Oh, yeah. It’s totally on. Let’s go.”
Brett followed Kent out of the classroom.
Kevin got to his locker in record time, legs pumping hard as he ran through hallways and passed through the wide, open lobby that adjoined the front offices and the cafeteria. He then vaulted a short set of steps that led down to another hallway on the other side of school. Banks of lockers lined both sides of the hallway. His was located right next to an open set of double doors. He heard voices emanating from the auditorium as he twisted the dial on his locker’s combination lock. He jerked the lock as he turned the dial to the third number in the combination and slammed the base of a fist against the locker door when it didn’t budge.
“Fuck!”
He forced himself to take a deep breath and slow down. He put his fingers to the lock and stared at them until they stopped shaking. The school was coming alive with the sounds of student chatter as classrooms began to empty. Soon the halls would be filled with warm, jostling bodies. Things were different now. These days a crowded hallway often meant he could count on at least one deliberate elbow to the ribs or punch in the back. The worst of this so far had occurred a week ago. He was punched and elbowed multiple times, all of which he endured with a tight-lipped stoicism. But then someone tripped him and he crashed to the floor. Someone else stepped on his back and walked over him before he could get to his feet. He heard laughter from several sources as he scrambled to get upright, fighting to hold back tears as he turned in a wobbly circle in the hallway and glared at the people around him. He’d been so sick with fury he was ready and willing to fight any of them. It didn’t matter that he could no longer count on his friends to back him up in a conflict, none of whom had been anywhere in the immediate vicinity anyway. He longed to strike out at his tormentors, but he held back, knowing he would just be ganged up on and kicked half to death in the hallway.
This time the lock popped open smoothly. Kevin heaved a sigh of relief and opened the locker. He tossed the sociology book inside, snagged his key ring off a hook, and shut the locker. As usual lately, he was departing empty-handed, without a single textbook. He didn’t give a damn about his grades anymore and was thinking of dropping out. His parents would be pissed, but he didn’t fucking care. He just couldn’t take this place much longer. Yeah, his job prospects would be few, but so what? He had a car and the open road was available to him at any time. He could probably lay his hands on enough cash to get himself to the nearest big city, where anything could happen.
He passed the open doors to the auditorium and came to a dead stop, a frown twisting his features. He could swear he’d heard a familiar voice issuing from inside. The after-school chatter was growing louder and in a few moments this hallway would be swarming with departing students, but he figured he could still spare a moment to satisfy his curiosity. He moved closer to the open doors and peeked inside.
“Huh.”
It looked like the drama club was rehearsing something on the stage. They were running through some bit of dialogue he didn’t recognize, reading from sheets of paper. Natasha Wagner was down there with them, several pages clasped in her own slender hands. A guy finished reading a line and glanced at her. She smiled and recited her next line. She delivered the line with conviction and her body language was less stiff and more natural than some of the other actors. She was good. But Kevin was baffled by Natasha’s involvement with these people. Had she always been a part of the drama club? He didn’t think so. She’d always been like the rest of their clique. Straight to home from school to sleep the day away so they could stay out all night.
Only none of them were doing that anymore, so far as he knew.
Things had changed, and, apparently, Natasha had reacted by making some changes of her own. He felt a strange sense of reflected pride at the thought. He’d always liked her. She was awesome in all sorts of ways. She was smart and smoking hot. Quick to anger at times, but also funny as hell. In truth, he’d always been deeply jealous of her obvious interest in Mark. Seeing how she was trying to move on and maybe change her life made him feel bad about his own thoughts of throwing everything away. It was . . . cowardly. As he listened to her speak her next lines, he had another thought that shamed him—
maybe I could have a shot with her now
.
It was common knowledge by now that she was keeping her distance from Mark.
So maybe . . .
But as he stared at her, his mind flashed back to that awful night in that dank old basement. He saw himself on top of Natasha, pounding into her naked body, savoring that exquisite wetness at the center of her despite his anguish and terror of the unseen thing manipulating them. They had all taken turns with her. And she’d squirmed and moaned through it all, that thing forcing her to enjoy the degradation on a physical level even as the tears streamed endlessly down her quivering face.
“Shit.”
Kevin forced himself to look away from her.
The truth was clear.
Natasha wasn’t just done with Mark. She was done with all of them. And Kevin couldn’t blame her one bit. Whatever they’d all had together, it was over. Completely. That spark of magic that had united them had been extinguished. A deep, aching emptiness brought tears to his eyes.
The hallway began to fill with noise and he sensed bodies moving past him. He had lingered here too long. Keeping his head down to hide the tears, he hurried down the hallway, exiting the school from a door that opened onto the smaller parking lot at the rear of the building. This was where he parked every morning due to its proximity to his locker. It was sunny today, which took the edge off the chill in the air as he hurried through the lot. He slowed down as he began to near his old Eclipse, which was parked in the farthest corner of the lot, behind a row of tall hedges separating the lot from the road. Two big football players were leaning against the back of a weather-beaten Toyota parked next to his Eclipse. He recognized Moose Hendrickson right away and thought the other one was called Zack or Jack. There was no reason to think they were waiting specifically for him. That was just paranoia. He had no beef with either of these guys and knew they weren’t the ones who’d been tormenting him in the hallways. So he picked up his pace again, anxious to be in his car and on his way away from this fucking place.
Too late, he realized he should have been more wary.
The Toyota they were lounging around belonged to some skinny geek. Jason something.
Moose and Zack or Jack flashed predatory grins and grabbed him. Kevin fought against them with all his might, but they were just too strong. They wrestled him down onto the asphalt and worked him over with savage speed and efficiency, their hard fists drilling into all the soft spots of his body. They left his face alone until near the end when one particularly ferocious blow pulped his lips and sent blood spilling down his chin and the front of his shirt. At some point during the assault, Kevin heard laughter from someone nearby. The sound wasn’t coming from the football players, who were too intent on the task of beating the living shit out of him. He twisted his head and tried to see who the laughing asshole was through the flurry of oncoming blows.
Kent Hickerson sneered at him from his position several feet away. Brett Hogan was standing next to him. They were effectively blocking the view of anyone who might happen by. Kevin understood then that this whole thing had been planned out in advance. It was a trap and he’d walked right into it. So stupid.
The beating took only a few minutes. The final touch was provided by Moose, who twisted his arm behind his back and leaned close to his ear to whisper a threat. “You tell anyone who did this and I’ll fucking kill you, bitch.”
Kent came a little closer. “You might even want to think about never coming back, faggot.” He smiled. “Who knows what might happen next?”
Then they were gone.
Kevin heard them laughing as they walked away. Hatred and shame consumed him. He stayed there sobbing on the ground for several minutes. He rolled onto his side and curled into the fetal position, shaking from the pain. He screwed his eyes shut and stayed like that until he felt a foot nudge his ass.
He forced his eyes open and rolled over with a groan.
Fiona Johnson was standing over him. She was wearing her usual loose jeans and hoodie. The acne around her chin seemed a little redder than usual, as if she’d been unable to keep from scratching at it. It was the first time she’d approached him since the night in the basement. He and the other boys had abused her body every bit as thoroughly as they’d used Natasha’s. Though there had been no free will involved in any of it, some part of Kevin had felt like a filthy rapist ever since that night.
Fiona came closer and knelt next to him. “I’m sorry, I saw it happen. I . . . there was nothing I could do. They . . .”
Kevin managed a smile despite the pain. He clasped hands with her. “I know. It’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Kevin didn’t have a reply to that. She was right. It wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay anymore. They stayed there like that a while, listening to the sounds of revving car engines as the lot slowly emptied.
Then Fiona said, “I know where I can get a gun.”
Kevin’s grip on her hand tightened.
She lowered her face to his and lightly kissed his bloodied lips. “Would you like that?”
Kevin sobbed one more time. “Y-yes.”
Another kiss, this one with a touch of passion.
“Good.”
T
WENTY-SIX
Ella didn’t know if she could go through with it. But
he
had commanded it. Andras. The beautiful dark thing living inside her grandson’s body. She could not return to the house without completing the task. She despaired at the thought of never being in the demon’s presence again. She felt deliciously alive and renewed whenever she was around him. Young again. Not just in spirit, but in body. Like her daughter-in-law, she looked younger every day. She had lived a span of sixty-one years, but today she looked no more than forty. Perhaps by tomorrow she’d be as gorgeous and youthful as Suzie. It would be awful to lose this restoration of youth, and Andras had assured her this would happen should she disobey him or leave his sphere of influence.
She looked at her face in the Bentley’s rearview mirror and again admired the almost flawless countenance that stared back at her. The skin was smoother and fresher-looking than it had been in many years. Some faint worry lines remained around her eyes and at the edges of her mouth, but most of her wrinkles were gone. She was a vain woman, but the improvement in her appearance was not the only thing binding her to Andras. The other thing was the sex. She couldn’t imagine never being ravished by the demon again. She shivered at the thought of how he was able to electrify her with a relentless chain of explosive orgasms. It didn’t matter that the demon was using her grandson’s body to do this. The flesh was just a vessel. Derek wasn’t really there at all. And, hell, if anything, it only enhanced the delicious, sweet decadence of it all. It made her want to wallow in sin and offer her soul to Andras and his master in hell. So what if she was damned in God’s eyes now? She would spend eternity in hell as one of Andras’s chosen acolytes.
Until today she had felt no qualms about embracing this dark path. But now the path was taking a darker twist. He had assigned her the task this afternoon in the immediate aftermath of yet another wild sex romp. He had been on top of her, his cock still huge inside her, making her quiver and whimper again every time it twitched. His eyes were dark and intent. “I want you to do something for me, Ella.”
She whimpered and writhed on the bed, barely noticing as Lydia Bell rolled up against her and drew one of her nipples between her teeth. “Anything . . . anything . . .”
She frowned. “What? Why?”
He laughed and told her. “Promise me you’ll do it.”
So she had made the promise to the powerful supernatural entity. It wouldn’t be wise to disappoint the demon. Still . . . she wasn’t sure she could go through with it.
She had spent the last half hour or so cruising the narrow back roads that skirted the boundaries of Ransom, deliberately avoiding places with a lot of people around. But when she reached the next intersection, she turned right, a direction that would lead her to a more populous area. The thick woods became less dense. She saw little businesses along the sides of the road. Most were ramshackle and looked as if they had been there forever. When she spied a more modern-looking convenience store a few more blocks down on the right, she pulled in at once. The store looked very new. It was probably one of many businesses popping up to service the influx of people brought in by Stanton Manufacturing.