A/N: Hi, lovers! Here's the new chapter, I hope you enjoy it! Please Read and Review x
Chapter Ten
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Dreams- Sam
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My nightmare is a disease now. It chills my heart and boils my very blood
I listen to Jewel's spiteful laughter, shivering weakly. Yet, rather than crumbling in despair, I'm possessed by a sudden rage. I smash the phone against the opposite wall with a rusted raw of pain.
My world shatters like the shards of a mirror. I turn, and Alison is sitting beside me. She presses her lips to my cheek before I can stop her and kisses me. I feel myself flush crimson. Alison smiles at me, sweet as sugar, but her eyes sparkle with deviance. She gets up and walks away, hips swaying side to side.
I call after her. Alison stops at once. She giggles breathily. Then she swivels back to me and I see she's changed. She's become… monstrous.
Her pretty mouth is stretched into a voracious scarlet smirk, tongue flicking seductively over lips and jagged teeth. She is lethal, an obvious carnivore.
My limbs freeze up. I cannot escape her.
She reaches for me with a taloned hand, smile stretched wide.
"Sam, Sam, Sam…" she murmurs tenderly. She kissed my jaw each time she utters my name. I groan. My pulse increases, my throat tightens. I don't know what to do. This is wrong, so wrong, but I can't push her away. I'm trapped in her grip like a fly in a spider's web.
Alison traces a clawed finger down my chest. It draws blood, yet I feel no pain. But somehow I feel horribly aroused. Alison knows. She clambers into my lap with cat-like purrs and pressed her body to mine. I feel her breasts heave against my chest.
"Alison, get off me. This isn't right."
The impious grin grows. Before I can protest, Alison's tongue snakes into my mouth and entwines with mine. She moans, teasing me.
Then suddenly she puts a hand to my crotch.
Something stirs within me. Hot, primal, strong.
I can't take any more of this madness.
I shove Alison away so hard that her skull connects with the bedpost with a dull crack. She screams out in agony. Still I come towards her, fired with violence. The room spins around me. Colours interblend in the air. I reach down to grab Alison's arm and as I do so, a deafening siren sounds a warning. I grunt. The sound is drilling into my brain.
"Shut up, damn it!" I yell.
Distracted, I don't notice Alison slithering between my legs before it's too late.
My fists clench.
"Get the hell off me, bitch!"
This time I slap her. Hard. And again, and again until her flesh starts to bleed. Yet the only response I receive is the screech of a massive metal blade.
* * *
Sam jerked awake. He felt sick with shame, yet in spite of this he had become hard. It was both uncomfortable and humiliating to bear.
"Disgusting," he muttered, trying to push the filthy thoughts from his head. "Thank God it was only a dream."
Sam yawned, and rolled onto his back.
"Hey Alison, you awake yet? Just checking you're ok, 'cause I…"
He paused mid-sentence. He could feel himself growing cold with fear.
Alison was gone.
* * *
Alison clambered out of the shower in a rush. Desperate to cover her nakedness, she slipped across the tiles and searched for her clothes. She could find nothing but a coarse white gown size in a size too small. Regardless of this, Alison pulled it over her dripping head and cringed. Her mother was still screaming for assistance, her words punctuated with cusses and shrieks.
She always did have a foul tongue, thought Alison.
She yanked the dress down, tearing the collar, and fled in the direction of her mother's cries with a beating heart. Her emotions twisted like snakes inside her. Alison had always claimed to dislike her mother, but this thinly veiled unconditional love. She hated the thought of her being hurt. After all, it was her responsibility to care for her. Good daughters were loyal to their mothers' wishes. Everyone said it, especially the Church, and they were not to be disobeyed. Ever.
Alison took her dagger from where she had tossed it to the floor and crept into the doorway. From there she peered into the murky hotel room. Someone was sobbing quietly within, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly where they were. Her eyes narrowed, picking out shapes here and there. Nothing looked anything like her Mother.
Something stirred. Alison took in a sharp breath.
Then she let it go again. It was just a rat, which skittered across the room and disappeared under the bed.
Bed.
Suddenly everything clicked in Alison's mind. The perfume, the smell of sex, the rumpled duvet. The freshness of the place.
Her mother had been here all along. Waiting for her.
Hesitantly, Alison called out to her.
"Mom? Is that you?"
The bedcovers twitched visibly. Alison edged forwards cautiously. Something was hunched beneath the duvet, arms raised high above their head. On closer inspection, Alison could see a hint of blond curls resting on the pillow. The infamous face sat comfortably below them, barely more than a tanned smudge in the gloom.
It was her. Alison could feel it.
"What are you doing here?" she asked softly. "How'd you find me?"
No answer. Only the rasp of laboured breath broke the silence.
"Talk to me, Mom. Are you alr…"
"I'm hurting."
The words were so abrupt that Alison jumped. She swallowed hard.
Every inch of her was screaming to run.
"You're what?" she said nervously.
"I'm being torn apart, and you left me alone. This is all your fault, you selfish little brat."
The insults stung. It was bitter and resentful, the utterance of a playground bitch.
"All this, and I'm pregnant, too."
This was so ridiculous that Alison giggled. Her mother had always said how much she despised being a parent, and that she'd never have another child. Ever. But her voice was tight, agonised. It made Alison nervous.
"Very funny, Mom," she said uncertainly. "Now listen. I-"
"NO! Don't talk, just help me!" her mother bellowed. "You're supposed to help me!"
She arched her back, and in that moment the light bulb flickered and revealed the horror her mother had become.
She was fixed to the wall, arms nailed in a gruesome mockery of crucifixion. Black blood streamed from her wrists, thick as tar. And she was ugly. So very, very ugly.
Alison's could barely recognise her anymore.
The beautiful curls were unchanged, but once lovely face had been hideously disfigured. Her eyes were stitched shut and her mouth, that voluptuous pout, was stretched wide over tortured jaws. These jaws screeched and sobbed as her mother contorted under her duvet.
Alison wanted to vomit, scream, and run like Hell. But she made herself stay, hands clamped tightly over her mouth.
"Oh Mom," she wailed, aghast. "What happened to you?"
She reached out with the intent to console. But somehow she found herself reaching down to whisk the covers away.
She wished she hadn't.
Her mother's chest was a mass of mouldering bandages that were alive with maggots and rot. Her legs had been chained wide apart, the bones snapped so that the protruded through the skin. Her stomach swelled above them, bulging and rippling as if something was inside.
Then, worst of all, were her genitals. They had become an enormous mouth that split her lower half in two. And as Alison stared into it, the thing snarled and lunged at her face.
She screamed aloud; she couldn't help it. She had never seen anything quite so horrifying in her life. Row upon row of craggy enamel snapped at her viciously, hissing in pure hate. They guarded an empty gullet and a barbed, bludgeoning tongue. The mouth was like a cavern of hell, and what made it truly chilling was the fact it was attached to a human body.
Alison could take no more. She turned and tried to make a run for it, but her foot caught and she fell headlong.
When she looked down, she saw that there was a fuzzy toy rabbit sitting innocently with its arms wrapped around her ankle. She kicked it away and tried to stand. It was useless. Alison collapsed again, only able to watch helplessly as her 'mother' fought aggressively against her restraints.
"Mom, what the hell happened?" Alison demanded, clutching her dagger handle. "What are you?"
"I told you, honey, I'm pregnant," the mother replied. A smile lit its ravaged face. "I'm having a baby. That's why I called you, Alison. My kids need you."
Bile surge into Alison's throat. She choked it back.
"But why? I don't understand."
The mother didn't answer. It simply roared and reared upwards. Alison saw the things in its stomach writhe against and bulge out, as if trying to escape. It dawned on her what was going to happen and she pushed the thought away, revolted.
No way. It's impossible.
Yet, as the mother screeched wildly, Alison knew she was right.
"They're coming…"
The beast gave one last balk of pain and collapsed onto the mattress. Alison looked on in disgust as it heaved, the unnatural second mouth gagging violently. Then, with a hacking retch, it vomited over the bed.
Good God.
First came the fluid. Steaming acid spewed from those gruesome jaws, eating through the bed-sheets with an acrid smell of burning.
Next came the blood.
And then came the children.
And what children they were.