Keepers of the Beast by Jack MacLane

Author:Jack MacLane
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror, serial killer, eighties horror
Publisher: Crossroad Press

19

Phillips took his time with his two captives. He was so pleased with the feeling of power that hitting them gave him that he didn't really want to stop. There was nothing they could do to resist. The old man was practically helpless, and the woman was so shocked by whatever it was that Charlie and Sloan had done to her that she seemed virtually comatose.

Eventually, he stopped.

As he rearranged his clothing the thought crossed his mind that maybe, just maybe, he was affected by the same power that had affected the others, but he dismissed the idea as absurd.

He looked at the man and the woman. They didn't look too bad. He had not marked them noticeably, at least where the marks could be seen. The woman's lips were puffed, and the man had a large red blotch on his temple — it would be yellowish and purple tomorrow, but the old man wouldn't be alive to care. And if he wasn't alive, the bruise would probably never change color anyway. Phillips started to giggle at the idea of the bruise slowly changing color on a corpse.

He bit the giggle off and looked around, as if to see if anyone had heard him. Neither Will Peters nor Sara Lansing gave any sign of having heard a thing, though the woman was showing signs of regaining consciousness.

Phillips walked over to her and grabbed a handful of her hair, jerking her head around to face him. Her eyes opened slowly as the pain began to sink in. Phillips pulled a little harder on her hair.

Tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes.

"Don't worry," Phillips said. "I'm not going to hurt you anymore. Yet. Why don't we have a nice little chat."

The woman said nothing.

"A little chat would be a nice idea, don't you think?" Phillips said.

When the woman still failed to reply, Phillips shook her head up and down as if she were nodding in agreement.

"That's good," Phillips said. "I'm glad that you agree with me. You see, if you don't talk to me, then I'll have to call the others. And I'm very much afraid that I won't be able to stop them from doing whatever it is that they might want to do."

The woman shuddered, and Phillips loosed his hold on her hair, tossing her head back from him at the same time. It thudded against the wall.

Phillips walked over and sat in a recliner. He made himself comfortable and then glanced at Peters, who lay motionless.

"Now," Phillips said. "Miss Lansing, is it?"

Sara managed to nod.

"Miss Lansing. Good. Now, Miss Lansing, let's you and I discuss your job with the local newspaper and your reasons for being here today. I'm sure you have an interesting story to tell."

Sara's mouth hurt, and her teeth felt loose. It was hard for her to talk through her puffed lips. "I . . . I came for a story," she said.

"Oh, I'm sure of that," Phillips said. "And what kind of story did you come for?"

"I .

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