He was going to enjoy this.
At first, Suzanne was terrified. Full-on terror: heart hammering, legs wobbling, teeth chattering. Repeating the same thing to herself as she ran: ‘Oh God, I’m going to die… oh God, I’m going to die… oh God, I’m going to die…’ Over and over in her head, her own personal mantra.
And then she reached the boxes. Saw Julie’s body lying in the water.
‘Oh God…’ Whispered, under her breath, but no less heartfelt. No less urgent.
He was after her. Somewhere, in the dark, he was there. Coming for her. To kill her. Or…
Worse.
She stood still at the water, looked down at the other woman’s body. Still breathing heavily, still gripped by fear. And then something happened. A kind of serenity descended on her. All the things she had been through these past few days, the things she had witnessed, the things she’d been through and, most horrific of all, the things that had been done to her… It all tumbled out of her mind.
So she stood there, looking down at the once-electrified water and the body of someone who could have been her friend, at the box that had imprisoned her, robbed her of hope, left her welcoming death, and she found such a clarity of thought within her, a stillness. And that stillness gave her the ability to think. And, more importantly, to plan.
To make sure she didn’t die after all. But lived.
Because that was what she wanted more than anything else in the world now. To live. To hope.
And she knew what she had to do.
She looked down at the water once more, no longer panicked, and thought that the old Suzanne, the one of a month, even a week ago, wouldn’t believe what she was about to do next. But the new Suzanne, the one who not only wanted to live but also to punish the person who had hurt her so much, robbed her of hope, could understand it perfectly.
She knew he was coming.
She got to work.
108
This is easy, thought the Creeper. Too easy. No skill required.
He could see her from where he was, her head poking out from in between the two boxes. Beside the water trough. Thinking he couldn’t see her. Thinking the dark would hide her.
Wrong.
Even allowing for his damaged body he could still hunt. He crept up slowly, scanning the area through his goggles, using all his surveillance and tracking skills. Making himself silent. Invisible.
A deadly, moving shadow.
He reached the water trough. Smiled to himself. She was still there, crouched and unmoving between the boxes. Probably frozen with terror, he thought, made immobile by the thought of him, of what he would do with her.
And so she should be.
Because, freed of thinking of her as Rani, as the woman he loved, he could do what he liked.
And there was so much he would like to do with her. She wouldn’t go easily, or quickly, and he would enjoy every moment. All the anger and uncertainty he’d been through the last few days, here was his chance to just have fun.
He unsheathed his knife, kept the blade covered. Didn’t want her to see the razor-sharp metal glinting in what light there was. Didn’t want her to feel it on her until it was too late.
He moved forward, deciding which side to approach from. The far side, next to the generator by the wall. Yes. That would maximise the biggest shock for her. Scare her the most.
He advanced.
Faces danced before his eyes. Women. His mother. His sister. Whores, all of them. Any woman he had ever met in his life. Whores.
Rani.
The serpent twisted, writhed.
Especially Rani. The way she avoided him, laughed at him, even. Then spurned him. That had made him angry. Brought it all back to the surface again. Whores. All of them.
So he had taken her. She had struggled, tried to fight him off, but it was no good. He was stronger than her. His hunger to have her greater than her hunger to get away.
And he had her. Any way he wanted.
Afterwards, he had cried, feeling guilty, hating himself. Then came the anger. At her for leading him on, at himself for the self-loathing.
And then came the fire.
And the rebirth.
He smiled. Nearer to this one now. Nearly on her…
He edged round the corner of the box, crouching, moving stealthily, in his mind’s eye a panther. A sleek, remorseless killer.
She was just in front of him, lying full length on the ground, head round the corner, expecting him to come at her from the front.
He nearly laughed. She was in for a surprise…
He crept up right behind her, knife in hand, arm outstretched…
Then stopped. Something wasn’t right.
The woman on the ground, she was…
‘Bastard!’
Pain, sharp, on the back of his head. His knees buckled, his hands went to the source of the pain. He fell to the floor, dropping the knife.
‘Bastard!’
Again, another dose of pain, bigger this time. He felt his skull crack, heard it in his head, tearing open.
He tried to turn. Saw the woman from upstairs, the one who had been Rani, standing behind him with one of the breeze blocks used to jam the doors of the boxes closed.
She had tricked him.
The whore had tricked him.
Anger welled. He screamed, tried to get up.
She brought the block down again, hitting him in the face this time. He felt something break, hot liquid squirt in his eyes.
His hands went to his eyes, wiped them. Opened them.
Just in time to see what she was doing next.
She held the two cables from the water trough, hooked up to the generator. They were fizzing and sparking where drops of water hit the exposed ends. Holding them by their insulated sides, she thrust them towards him.
‘Die, fucking die, you bastard…’
She held them to his chest as the current coursed through him.
He tried but couldn’t pull away, couldn’t get his hands up to stop her, to rip the cables away. The current was too powerful.
She held them there, his chest sparking and arcing, his body vibrating and shaking.
He looked at her face. Saw Rani, grinning. Not as she had appeared to him in the other bodies but as she was first. Grinning, watching him die. Vengeful and happy.
He reached out for her but it was too late. She was gone.
And then so was he.
