Crabs : The Human Sacrifice (Crabs Series) by Guy N Smith

Author:Guy N Smith [Smith, Guy N]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror
ISBN: 9781907846441
Publisher: Black Hill Books
Published: 2012-03-31T11:00:00+00:00

8

Pete Merrick was not at the flat, which for Alan was both surprising and disconcerting. Christine opened the door to his timid knock, and he stared in amazement at her.

Her lithe body was clad only in a black bra with suspender-belt to match, knee-length black boots gracing her shapely legs. Whiter than pale beneath heavy make-up, her dark eyes were ringed as though she had not slept. She might even have been crying, Alan thought. After last night it was no wonder, he reflected as he squeezed inside and she closed the door behind him.

‘Pete’s out.’ He thought he detected relief in her voice. ‘I’m not expecting him back for another couple of hours at least.’

Christine was having a hard time of it, he was sure of that. Pete was obsessed with this macho image of his, some kind of warrior that incorporated a Samurai intellect. Mad and dangerous.

‘I’m glad you’ve come, Al.’ She clasped his hand, squeezed his fingers and held them. ‘I’m scared to death, I can’t stand much more.’ She was close to tears.

‘Me neither.’ He found himself whispering, looking about him as though Pete Merrick might suddenly manifest himself in the room. Just thinking about him had your nerves all shot to hell. ‘I’ve been as sick as a pig after last night.’

‘Pete’s gone to the pub on his own,’ she went on. ‘He’ll come back drunk as a lord and expect me to play the latest little game he’s thought up. Lately it’s getting crazier and crazier. It’s that sword that scares me, the one he calls the Executioner. You saw what he did to that poor guy last night. He’s just as capable of doing the same to you and me.’

‘Maybe … maybe if we packed a few things and … and ran.’ Alan was still whispering, his voice a tremor.

‘He’d come after us.’ She shook her head, ‘It’s no good, we’d never escape him. The sword’s in the wardrobe, Al.’ The meaning of her words was not lost on him. He blanched, felt her squeezing his fingers again. You could kill him with that, Al. Even he couldn’t stand up to that.

Christine moved across to the wardrobe, pulled out the curved sword. In her hands it looked almost ordinary, the kind of weapon you might pick up at a second-hand shop to hang on the wall. She tested the blade gingerly; it was razor sharp.

‘I … I …’ he stammered. ‘We’d have to take him by surprise.’

‘Of course.’ She placed it on the floor alongside the bed and sat down, motioned to him to join her. ‘But we’ve got plenty of time, Al.’

He experienced a faint stirring in his loins, looked again at her semi-naked body. ‘You’re all dressed up ready for his games, I see.’ He laughed but it sounded strange, forced.

‘I have to.’ She tried to smile. ‘Otherwise he only gets violent. It wouldn’t be so bad if … if …’

‘If what?’

‘If he managed to do something.’ She was whispering now. ‘But he doesn’t, Al.

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