It should never have happened. It shouldn't even have been possible. But a dare was a dare and she was damned if she was going to chicken out of it, so to the glass house she'd gone, friends, backpack and camera in tow.
They had stood outside, jeering her on as one of the older boys had jimmied open one of the windows leading down into the basement.
So whose great idea was this then? She wondered as she knelt on her hands and knees in the cold, dark mud. This was hardly what she'd expected from her first real party, bunch of people all sat in the woods in the dead of night, drinking, smoking, generally hanging about, some cuddling, others going way further than that.
"I know, Truth or Dare!" someone had suggested.
Of course she'd forgotten the 'golden rule' of Truth or Dare, always say truth the first couple of times so you don't seem to eager. But she hadn't expected the question to come to her so early, considering she was new to the group, she hadn't prepared herself and had accidently blurted out 'dare' as she'd taken a swig of the vodka straight from the bottle, which she also regretted as it burned her mouth and throat, nearly making her vomit.
The crowd had whooped and hollered at the first dare of the evening. Several whispered suggestions went round, mostly involving some kind of lewd behaviour, one that would make use of an empty bottle, till someone, she didn't know who had shouted, "Send her to the glass house!"
The glass house. It was not too far from where they were sat, another twenty minutes or so through the woods, it was well concealed but everything is eventually found by those who aren't meant to find it. Secrets being no exception.
She chucked her backpack in first, placed the camera strap between her teeth and gripped the edges of the open window ready to lower herself down. Some of the guys behind her gave her backside a gentle nudge with their feet, goading her further. Perhaps it would've just been easier to accept the bottle dare.
It was a long way down, and she held herself suspended by her fingertips. She looked from left to right; the place seemed empty and ever so eerily quiet. The lights were dimmed; a pale blue colour illuminated the glass corridors from strip lights, making the interior seem even colder on the inside than it did on the out. Latin adorned the walls, etched beautifully right into the glass.
"Remember, get right inside, take some photos or no one will believe you went far!"
She nodded.
The others laughed; arms around one another for support as they continued to drink and cheer her on.
She took a deep breath before letting go. She did not spot the camera in the distance, suspended from the ceiling of the corridor, nor did she notice the zoom of its lens as it focused on her.
The body heat from her legs was visible first, showing a white, yellow and orange heat signature as she descended and dropped.
"Mr Kriticos, sir. We have an intruder in sector two."
He stepped forward; closing the great tome he held in his hands with a thud and looked at the monitor his employee was staring at. His cane held tightly in his firm grip.
Cyrus Kriticos leant closer, "Give me visual," he ordered. The man he spoke to flicked a switch next to the screen and the image changed from thermal imaging to regular mode. The picture was poor, but clear enough to show the young woman with dark hair in jeans and a t-shirt as she picked her bag off the floor.
Cyrus smiled wickedly.
"Shall I dispatch security, sir?" his assistant asked as he lifted the phone beside him.
Cyrus firmly took the receiver from him and placed it back in its hold, "No need," he said, "I think this little hooligan needs to be taught a much more permanent lesson,"
He strode confidently towards the levers that lay to the edge of the room where the device he'd had manufactured stood dormant in the centre. Soon it would become active, he just needed one final piece to put it all in motion... but Dennis was arranging that. Dennis would find the last one soon.
"I reckon we should see the full potential of one of our guests, don't you?" Cyrus said without expecting an answer.
"Sir?"
"Which one should we try?" Once again, a question he asked himself rather than the other man there. He traced his fingers delicately over each of the levers, the Black Zodiac markings upon them engraved deeply into the ivory. He paused only when he reached the eleventh, "Let's see what he makes of this little flower,"
Cyrus placed more pressure on the ivory and pushed the lever forward.
It did feel cold in here, so cold she could see her breath floating in front of her. She sniffed, trying to avoid the imminently running nose. How could it be colder inside?
She just wanted to get out of here and quickly, but that wouldn't look good. She bit her lip and continued on, rounding another corner. This place was a labyrinth, it had no end it seemed and she still had not even found the stairs.
She couldn't stop her teeth from chattering and she rubbed her bare arms to keep away the cold.
Another dead end. Maybe there was no way upstairs after all, maybe this whole bloody place was just a stupid illusion or something. She turned back, walking straight into the glass that had slid silently shut behind her. Her nose hit the barrier first, her hands followed when she realised she was trapped.
"Oh crap..." She began beating her hands against the glass but it did not break.
Another pane slid open, revealing a new corridor and a shelf. A shelf where a pair of clear glasses sat, the lenses illuminated, as if placed there by fate itself.
She tried to snap herself out of her sudden need to escape this claustrophobic environment. It was just a glass house, and no one was home. So what the Hell kinds of glasses were these then? They didn't look like sunglasses although they had that same shape to them. She picked them up and closely examined them. Her gaze only shifting upwards as she spotted the much larger etchings on the glass of this corridor and thick cables attached to the panes.
You shouldn't be here... a woman's voice whispered next to her, the voice echoed and reverberated. She jumped, her back pressing against the cold glass.
Someone new to play with... another voice, different to the first, a child's voice came from behind her. She spun again, heading down the corridor, looking back as she did, searching for people she couldn't see who spoke to her and laughed hysterically at her.
What is she wearing...? She looks like a boy...
You shouldn't be here... Get out...
Get out...
Get out...
Stay...
It was getting too much, the voices came from all around and yet there was no one to be seen. Round and round she spun, desperately trying to seek out the source of the noise... And then everything fell silent when a pane of glass shifted and opened, the gears spun making the sound of tomb being opened.
Silence… You could've heard a pin drop a mile away. She edged closer, swallowing the lump in her throat caused by panic.
The laughter grew, starting with the same distortion as the other voices before it, growing, echoing all around her, manic cackling.
Get out of here. Don't put the glasses on, just get out of here… A concerned female voice called.
She'd forgotten all about the glasses she held tightly in her fingers, and she couldn't help herself. She cautiously raised them to her eyes, placing them securely to her face.
As if by magic, he appeared in his full splendour through the lenses. She did not have time to even scream as he reached out his mangled arms with mutilated fingers towards her, partly screaming, partly laughing behind the bars of the head cage he wore as he took hold of her.
It was animalistic in its brutality, taking hold of her t shirt, lifting her from the floor and throwing her across the long corridor, her head colliding with a glass barrier. She looked up to see a young boy dressed in an Indian costume behind the glass, a long arrow shot through his forehead staring intently at her, holding a small tomahawk in his grasp.
Billy… a soft female voice called, the child disappeared for a split second, reappearing with his head turned towards the voice. In the prison next to him, a woman stood, the flesh on the left side of her face burnt away revealing moist pink, peeling skin beneath and an IV drip held in her hand, Billy, don't look…
Has she come to play with us, aunty Jean?
The ghostly woman looked up, a look of sincere pity crossed her eyes as they settled on the girl beyond help, No Billy… she's here to play with Ryan…
Before she could respond to the macabre conversation taking place, she felt a hand reach down and grab the tops of her jeans, dragging her away from the scene quickly. She screamed, clawing at the floor as she went.
Claws as sharp as knives dug their way through the soft flesh of her buttocks, drawing blood while the maniac above her laughed hysterically at her struggles.
I don't think she wants to play with Ryan… a woman in a dark prom dress with her arms bound behind her back giggled as she watched the girl being dragged past her.
Oh yes, she does… The Jackal responded to the Bound Woman as he released his hold and then sat astride his victim who lay face down on the floor, unable to beat him off.
An iron fist beat against a pane next to them, sparks flying from the impact. Both predator and prey looked up.
Leave her, you beast… An angry growl came from the dark man, his body adorned in railroad spikes and a blacksmiths hammer where his hand should've been, She's only a child… Perhaps even untouched…
Ryan smiled evilly, That would make it even better… he snarled back. He placed one hand across her face to cover her mouth as she screamed, bringing her torso up from the floor with an inhuman strength. His other hand slid up her t shirt, his claws scratching her skin as he tore the fabric from her top. She wore no bra and her small breasts were exposed to all who still watched. Her attacker chuckled to himself as he rubbed her breasts, delighted at how whores obviously no longer wore bras… what else did sluts not wear these days? He wondered as he licked her delicious blood from his fingertips.
Billy… Don't look… Let's play 'I Spy' shall we? The Withered Lover reassured the little boy who didn't know quite what he was witnessing.
Ok… I spy…
Ryan desperately began pulling at her jeans with his hand still clasped around her mouth, bending her spine back horribly.
With my little eye…
He became inpatient with the tightness of the garment and let her head go, making it smack hard against the floor. He descended to her lower body and tore the jeans in twine to gain access to the hidden flesh beneath.
Something beginning with…
The girl clawed frantically at the floor, her fingers sliding against the fluid tracks of her blood which seeped from her own fingertips and the many gashes he left upon her skin. Ryan knelt on her legs, his knees pressing painfully into the backs of her thighs. She screamed to high heaven, "Help me! Someone help me, please!"
W…
A woman, aged beyond her years, bound in stocks turned away from the ghastly scene. No one would help the young woman, she knew that. God forsakes all, even the innocent like herself. She wished she could cover her ears to block out both the hideous screams and the tedious game being played by the Withered Lover and the First Born Son.
The young girl fearing her impending fate, tried desperately to heave her body from under the phantom who sat on her legs, but his hands reached for her shoulders, pinning her to the ground, taking her hair in his grasp and throwing her face against the floor as he laughed and rubbed himself against her curves.
W...? That's a tricky one... Is it window...?
No...
The Jackal moved his legs, placing them between hers, grabbing her hips and pulling them up to meet his.
What about... woman...?
Close...
The ghastly thing smiled wickedly, giving a heavy sigh as he felt her warmth against him. His hands went further, down to the place he sought between her thighs, clawing her skin as he went, pushing the thin fabric her panties aside.
I give up...
The First Born Son looked towards the horrific scene again before he revealed his answer, Whore...
The intensity of her scream scorched her own throat as she felt the initial harsh thrust and it didn't cease as he continued to build rhythm, holding her hips tightly forcing her back to him over and over again.
She couldn't hear how the ghostly woman scalded the boy for using such language, it was clear though where he'd picked up such a word.
The head of Jimmy 'The Gambler' Gambino laughed at hearing the boy, Nice one, sonny... Didn't see that one coming...
The Bound Woman couldn't help but laugh too, then turned her attention back to the act outside her prison, You call that fucking, Ryan...? I could fuck her better than that...
Ryan cared little for her insults, but simply turned his head in her direction and blew her a bittersweet kiss as he continued pounding the screaming girl in his clutches; You want to see more...? he asked her as he bit his lip to hold himself back.
Oh please... Impress us with your skills...
He smiled, displaying his hideous teeth; he grabbed the girls hair and brought her up, her back pressing against his chest. His arm wrapped around her waist to bring her close to him, There's a reason they put me in this blasted cage... he spoke to his squirming prize and the Bound Woman, he licked his lips coyly, opening his jaws wide, then bringing them down upon skin, muscle, bone and sinew on the girl's shoulder. Blood vomited forth from the wound into Ryan's waiting throat, down the girl's body, to the floor making it slippery and hard to remain balanced. Ryan rubbed her breasts, smothering them in her own blood. She couldn't thrash about without him tearing more of her skin from her, it seared and scorched, hot blood pumping with such intensity that it covered her throat, his teeth touched bone and ground against it. Even screaming was painful now, for the nerve endings in her vocal chords felt like they too would be ripped out by vicious teeth.
Very impressive... Susan LeGrow congratulated him.
Ryan relinquished his hold of the bone, ripping tender mauled flesh from it like well cooked lamb. He savoured the taste of her upon his tongue, smelling the flavour as well as tasting it, potent and fresh. He grinded his teeth together just as he grinded his hips into the back of hers.
Don't encourage him, Susan... A new voice muttered above the din of screams, He's sick and twisted... How anyone could find his antics erotic is beyond me...
Ryan turned to look at the Torn Prince who wore that same smug grin on his face despite how it was savaged beyond any repair on the right side, You're only jealous, boy... You just wish it was your cock Susan wanted...
The Bound Woman shot the Torn Prince a flirtatious look, but Royce didn't return it, even in death he could do better than a slut like Susan LeGrow.
Let her go, Ryan... She's damaged enough already...
The Jackal laughed at this, Oh, I haven't even started yet... He rose to his feet effortlessly, bringing his victim up by her hair as she nearly fell from his clutches; he dragged her ailing body to the cell where Royce Clayton watched behind the magical glass barrier. The girl tried to claw his fingers from her hair but his grip was firmer than hers.
The screams were becoming less persistent, less ear shattering; her throat was raw from screaming.
Enough, Ryan... Royce yelled, throwing his baseball bat at the glass. It ricocheted off with a powerful impact, creating sparks. Ryan did not even flinch as the weapon was flung at him, the smile did not leave his lips or his sadistic eyes.
He forced his prize to her feet and pushed her forward. She hit the glass head first, blood spilled from her lips now, dribbling slowing down from her chin, falling to her heaving bosom that pressed against the cold glass.
Her eyes opened briefly, the lids fluttered displaying empty whiteness, "Help me..." she said weakly.
The Jackal came from behind, grabbing her arms and spreading them as though she hung from some blasphemous crucifix. He forced himself inside her again, but this time it was easier, warm blood surrounded him and her muscles were looser and wetter to receive him. He nibbled her ear and the tender meat of her throat, occasionally giving Royce a sinister look, Don't lie, boy, you love to watch...
Ryan's right hand moved along her arm, back to her neck, across her face. He dug his claws into the skin besides her eye, drawing them down to her cheek. At last, her screams became harsher again. He brought his fingers closer to her open lips, and drove them in, pressing them into her tongue, making even more blood pour from her mouth and pulling her jaw open even further. Her lips were full, her mouth warm and wet, getting wetter with viscous.
Jimmy Gambino tried from his low vantage point to get a good look at what was happening but it was pretty useless, Isn't there commentary or something for this...? he asked but no one answered, Hey lady... You wanna tell me what's happening...?
The Dire Mother ignored him and the situation entirely, so consumed by her enormous son whom she lovingly fed even now. She did not answer Jimmy, and perhaps would never speak to anybody except the Great Child.
Jimmy thought for a moment, all the other trapped spirits were either ignoring the situation or transfixed by it, so he would have to resort to old measures if he wanted to see.
Hey, box head... Bet you ten dollars you couldn't catch her if you let her go...
I'll take that bet, Jimmy... George Markley said, he was not a betting man, gambling was the Devil's game, it was simply a way of getting the Jackal and his victim as far away from his sight as possible.
Ryan leant closer into her, licking her ear before biting it and whispering to the girl, You have five seconds, little one... Make the most of it...
She could just about hear his words over the sound of her heartbeat, and it was enough.
She ran when he released her, stumbling over her own feet.
One...
Blood dripped and splattered upon the glass as she went.
Two...
The remaining captive ghosts watched her as she staggered past, trying to run on failing legs.
Three...
She nearly fell, but supported herself against the glass; a bloody handprint smeared itself on the pane as she continued to struggle on.
Four...
"Help me... please..."
Five...
Ryan gave chase, she had not gotten far at all really, but he did so enjoy the thrill of the chase. He pinned her to the ground, outside another ghost's prison, this one smeared in blood from the inside.
A hand pushed against the bloodied pane and wiped the layers of dried viscous away. A pretty but severely butchered face emerged from the cell, eyes dark as night, full lips and a long scar running the length of her face across the bridge of her nose. She wiped more blood from her cell, revealing more lacerations across her large, artificial breasts and a knife held tightly in her hand.
The Angry Princess watched, fascinated by the display as Ryan clawed manically at the young girl he'd caught, soon there would be little left of that pretty face to recognise.
Ryan finally looked in her direction and smiled. He got up and like before dragged the kicking, screaming girl with him, but this time he kept her kneeling and forced her back against the glass, Don't think I'd forgotten about you, Dana...
Dana looked at what remained of the unfortunate girl who'd wandered down here, bleeding, dying in front of her cell.
What will you do to her now...? She asked him with a soft reverberating voice.
I'll love her to death while you watch, Dana... Would you like that...? He asked back as he positioned his hips in front of the young girls full, bleeding lips and gently eased his way inside her mouth, she had no energy to fight back, this would be easy... Warm, moist and bleeding, just as he liked them. Ryan held her hair with one hand to control the rhythm, his other hand rested on the glass as he looked Dana straight in her large, dark eyes.
She watched Ryan move, even now his movements were vicious, hard and animalistic. He forced himself deeper into her, to the back of her throat, slowly choking the girl before him.
She couldn't help herself as she watched him, having him look at her while he violated this young girl was too much. She felt her grip on the knife subside until it dropped from her hand entirely. She placed a coy finger to her lips and sucked it gently while Ryan watched; she rolled it round her mouth, covering it in saliva.
Oh God... yes... Ryan gasped as he moved quicker. The girl's head began to collide with the glass behind her repeatedly.
Dana's fingers slid from her mouth and moved to her breasts, she pinched her own nipple, taking a sharp breath as she twisted it fantasising that it was Ryan's clawed fingertips that touched her. Both hands rubbed her large breasts together, making her moan in ecstasy. One hand descended lower, caressing the lacerated flesh on her firm stomach, and further still down to the rising heat she felt from deep inside her. She was moist already and her fingers slid easily inside her, what she would've given to have Ryan touch her there. She felt inside herself, teasing the outer regions with her middle finger... and all this time Ryan watched her pleasuring herself, his claws scratched the glass in the impossible hope that he could break through to her.
Dana fell to her knees, gasping loudly, both hands now touched her in a frenzied manner. She looked up at Ryan as she pushed herself to the back of her prison, sat down on the floor, spread her long, flawless legs wide and showed him exactly what he wanted to see...
It was more than Ryan could stand...
The girl's head continued to pound against the glass, a red smear appearing on the other side of it now where her skull impacted and had begun to bleed. This only fuelled Dana's lust further as she teased herself, biting her lip with immense pleasure as her peak soon began to mount.
Ryan looked down at his victim momentarily to watch as her eyes rolled back into her skull entirely and her nose began to bleed. Her fingers and arms started to convulse and twitch, death was imminent and so was his climax.
Dana cried out with perverse exasperation, and Ryan matched her in his own cry as he released himself into the girl's mouth, sealing her fate.
The body was swiftly kicked out of the way once he'd finished with it, and for a while Ryan and Dana simply looked at one another through the lucid barrier separating them.
The moment did not last long.
A blinding flash came from both directions, those blasted fairy lights that hurt and scorched the dead, held by the living. Ryan screamed, backed away from Dana's cell and fled back to his own swiftly. It was locked quickly once he was inside, where once again he began to claw insanely at the glass.
"So, who was she?" Cyrus asked as someone picked up the bag.
"No ID, sir... Looks like we'll never know who she was,"
The girl's slaughtered remains were picked up and disposed off. Cyrus took the glasses from the front of her face, put them on and quickly scanned the corridor, "Looks like she isn't here, oh well, she wasn't needed anyway," he walked along the blue corridor, supported by his cane and came to a stop outside one of the cells.
Cyrus Kriticos smiled with genuine pleasure as he watched the Jackal. Ryan glared back at the man who'd caught him and brought him to this place, he tried with all his might to claw through the Latin spell that kept him prisoner here and kill the bastard here and now.
"Well well, Mr Kuhn, you've certainly proved yourself today haven't you. I expect great things from you, great things indeed."
The End