There was another deafening clap of thunder, audible even in the depths of the cellar.
The room was plunged into darkness as the lights flickered then died.
A second later they came back on again and Kelly finally managed to tear her gaze from the body of Blake.
She reached for the axe and raised it above her head, knowing what she must do, praying for the strength to perform this final act of destruction. Tears welled up in her eyes then trickled down her cheeks and the axe wavered in the air. Kelly squeezed her eyes tightly shut for a moment, anxious to avoid the reproachful stare of Blake’s dead eyes.
The lights began to flash on and off, blinking wildly as the thunder now seemed to become one continual salvo of sound.
Kelly screamed as she brought the axe down.
The blade buried itself in the right shoulder of the corpse and she heard a loud cracking of bone as the scapula was shattered. Kelly wrenched it free and struck again, her aim slightly off but the weight of the weapon was enough. It severed the right arm. She lifted it again and, after two more powerful strokes, succeeded in hacking off the other arm. Tears were now pouring freely down her cheeks and the storm offered a macabre accompaniment to her own sobs and the thick, hollow sound the axe made as it sheared through dead flesh.
She changed position to attack the right leg, the axe skidding off the pelvic bone and shaving away a portion of thigh. Kelly recovered her balance and struck again, forced to stand on the torso to pull the blade free. Her next blow exposed the femur and, with a despairing grunt, she smashed the thick bone and managed to hack the leg off. The remains of the body shuddered beneath each fresh impact but Kelly continued with her grisly task, perspiration soaking through her clothes. It took five attempts to sever the left leg.
Panting like a carthorse, she took a step back, realizing that she had still not completed the monstrous task.
With a blow which combined horrified determination and angry despair, she struck off the head. It rolled for two or three feet across the floor, coming to rest on the stump. She noticed with relief that the sightless eyes were facing away from her.
Kelly stood amidst the pieces of dismembered corpse and dropped the axe, shaking her head gently. Her breath came in great choking gasps which seared her throat and lungs. She
leant back against the nearest wall for support, closing her eyes for a moment.
The cellar door slammed shut and Kelly shot an anxious glance towards it.
At the top of the stairs stood David Blake.
Kelly shuddered as the room seemed to fill with icy air, as if someone were sucking all the warmth from the cellar and replacing it with the bone-chilling numbness she now felt.
Blake began to descend, his eyes fixed, not on her, but on the hewn corpse.
‘It’s over, Blake,’ she said, her voice a harsh croak.
He didn’t answer. He merely continued his purposeful stride, his face impassive until he reached the bottom of the stairs. Then, his nostrils flared. With a roar of rage he ran at her.
Tired from her exertions, Kelly could not move fast enough to avoid his fearsome lunge. He grabbed her by the throat, lifting her bodily from the ground.
Kelly found herself looking deep into his eyes — into bulging orbs which were pools of sheer hatred. But there was something else there too.
Fear?
She felt the cold seeping through her like gangrene through a rotting limb but Blake’s powerful grip was beginning to weaken. With a grunt he lowered her to the floor where she sprawled before him, gazing up at his contorted features.
He took a step back, almost tripping over the mutilated remains of the corpse.
His corpse.
The Astral body of David Blake, the tangible embodiment of his evil, staggered drunkenly for a second, one hand held towards Kelly in a last act of defiance.
With a despairing groan, he dropped to his knees, his eyes still fixed on the girl who was cowering a few feet from him. Kelly saw him open his mouth to scream but the sound, when it came forth, was like nothing human. The thunderous utulation rattled around the cellar, causing Kelly to cover her ears for fear that they would be damaged. The lights in the room went out for a moment then came back on with an increased brilliance.
Blake’s scream died away as his face began to split open. Huge, jagged fissures opened in his flesh, as if his mirror image had been broken. An evil-smelling, yellowish-white subslance bubbled up from the rents which were now spreading all over his body. He clawed at his chest, pulling his shirt open, a large lump of skin coming with it, exposing the bloodied internal organs beneath. His fingers seemed to shrivel like dying flowers and Kelly saw more of the pus-like fluid oozing from the deep cuts which were spreading along his arms and legs like rips in fabric.
He fell forward, his head disintegrating as he hit the ground. It split open, pus and Wood bursting from the ruptured skull. A tangle of intestines snaked upward, as if propelled by some inner force as his stomach burst.
Kelly looked away, feeling her stomach somersault. The odour of corruption, that rank and fetid stench which floated in the air like an invisible cloud, surrounded her. She coughed and thought she was going to be sick. But the feeling passed.
The room was plunged into darkness again as the lights dimmed for fleeting seconds and a massive thunderclap shook the house.
Kelly managed to look back at the decaying form of Blake. The last moments lit by the faintly glimmering lights which seemed to act like strobes as they flickered.
As the electrical power was restored, the cellar was bathed in the cold white light of the fluorescents.
Blake had vanished.
Nothing remained.
No blood. No pus.
Nothing.
Only the dismembered corpse lay before her.
Kelly got slowly to her feet, swaying uncertainly for a moment. She was soaked with sweat. Every single muscle in her body ached and it took a monumental effort for her to even walk. She was completely drained. As close to collapse as she could ever remember but, somewhere amidst that exhaustion, there was a feeling of triumph. She had succeeded in stopping B’ake. Now she prayed that she had been able to end the reign of terror he’d unleashed. There was no way of knowing yet.
All she could do was wait.
And hope.
She knew that there was one more thing which had to be done.
Crossing to the phone on the nearby desk, she lifted the receiver and pressed out three nines. She had no choice but to tell the police. Kelly heard the purring at the other end of the line.
The lights flickered once more and she muttered under her breath as she heard the phone go dead.
She was about to try again when the hand closed on her shoulder.
She spun round, the scream catching in her throat.
The figure which faced her was identical in every respect. A mirror image of herself.
And it held the axe.
Her alter-ego smiled as it brought the vicious weapon down with incredible force. The blade aimed at Kelly’s head.
It was the last thing she saw.
