36

They heard the sound echoing through the cavern they were walking through. The ceiling was lower here, probably not much more than a hundred foot high. Both of them stopped and listened. Floyd with his head cocked to one side and his hands in fists and Spencer looking around trying to find where the sound was coming from.

'Christ.' Spencer muttered.

Floyd shook his head. 'Flattered, honestly, but…' Floyd who was slightly behind Spencer moved forwards and took Spencer by the hand. 'I think it's time to break some real bad news to you. Don't hate me for this, however sometimes the truth will cause pain.' Floyd felt Spencer squeeze his hand, sure that Floyd was going to tell him that the sound was Sam's death cries… that they were too late. 'Christ was nothing special. He wasn't who he made himself out to be. A trickster was all. A very naughty little boy who grew up to have some weird cult following. He had fantastic sleight of hand and a good crew of blokes who were willing to overlook his mistakes.'

'What?' Spencer's hand stopped squeezing Floyd's.

'Just things got very out of control in that place. Lots of political crap going on.'

'What's that got to do with those screams?'

Floyd smiled and shook his head. 'Nothing Babes, but if you're going to curse a word, use one which actually has meaning, not some upstart who has been the cause of war after war and will still be the cause long after you're dead.'

'I am dead.' Spencer reminded Floyd.

'And there's still wars… my point made exactly. Cant argue your way out of that one.'

Spencer now ripped his hand from Floyd's grip. 'What has that to do with Sam? That was Sam… I'd know his screams anywhere.'

'He's still a long way off, Spencer. Too far. However we now know where he is. That's good. We can just scoot on over there and rescue his little tight butt and carry on, because this journey is taking a fuck lot longer than I thought it would and I'd like to get down to business and stop this dilly dally fucking around we've been doing. Don't for even one second be out of my sight.' Floyd gave Spencer a quick slap on the backside. 'Now we run. We run like the hounds of hell are on our heels, cos that's gonna actually be good practice for when they are.'

Floyd didn't give Spencer time to say more. He pointed in the direction they needed to go and he ran.

Spencer thought that when he'd been running to try to find water that he'd been moving pretty fast, but Floyd was making a mockery of that. The man moved at lightening speed and was leaving Spencer behind pretty quickly. Spencer wanted to shout out to Floyd and tell him to slow down, but what would that do? It would give Floyd reason to start bitching that Spencer didn't want to get there quicker and get Sam out of the trouble he'd dug himself into. Again Spencer took deep breaths, imagined something vile and deadly breathing down his neck and upped his pace to try to at least keep Floyd in sight.

Floyd was running, but not at the speed he wanted to. He was giving Spencer a chance to keep up with him. He could hear Spencer's heavy breaths behind him… falling back… further back… Stop and wait? Well he should. He knew he should, but Floyd wasn't the one whose legs were about to seize up and go into an hour long cramp session. Floyd could keep going at this pace for days and not have to stop. He'd even thought about trying out for the Olympics… he'd run a marathon like no one had ever run one before. It was the drugs tests which would fail him. Floyd stopped and hunkered down and placed his fingers on the ground, not because he needed to sense where Sam was… he knew where he was, but because Spencer was doing a fine job of not complaining and needed him to catch up and take a few minutes rest… and actually Floyd didn't want to make it look as though Spencer was not as awesome as he was.

Floyd looked over his shoulder and smiled at the very sweaty out of breath Spencer. 'Awesome.' He muttered as Spencer crouched down next to him. Spencer asked what it was that was so awesome… 'Well you are. Why else would I knock around with you? You are a spectacular being. You've a razor sharp mind, you look fucking fantastic, you're mine… so yeah… awesome is the word.'

Spencer let out a snort of a laugh. 'Well you're pretty awesome yourself.' He replied.

'Good looking? Intelligent? Brilliant in bed?' Floyd asked.

'All that and more.' Deep breaths… long deep breaths. Spencer had his right hand pressed hard under his ribs. He didn't want to get a stitch and have to slow Floyd down.

'More? Tell me.' Floyd was looking down at the ground his fingers were resting on.

'No time. There's just too much. We have to go get Sam.' Spencer was grinning at Floyd who Spencer considered to not only be the most beautiful being who ever lived but also in a very odd and twisted way, the most loyal. Or was this situation just confusing him.

'Well, I'll keep that for another time then. You're right. Let's go get that son of a bitch and mash that freak Ambrose to a pulp.'

They took time to have a drink of Ambrose's water and then stood, stretched and started off again. This time Floyd kept a slightly slower pace, not that Spencer noticed. It still felt like he was going to explode his lungs and tear the muscles in his legs trying to keep up. Every half hour or so, Floyd stopped and let Spencer have a drink. He took one too, but didn't actually need it, but for a reason of his own he didn't want Spencer to feel that he was slowing them down by being such a… well - human… he supposed that was the best description. Anyway, Floyd liked to watch Spencer drinking from a water bottle. He loved the way his lips moved and the way his throat moved when he was drinking. When Spencer tipped his head back like that and his hair dropped back from his face and he could see the blood pumping under the skin of his neck it almost made Floyd weak at the knees. Only almost. It was a lovely thing to see though… Spencer had over the course of the years since he'd reached adulthood gained the most wondrous stomach. Not an inch of fat. He could see his ribs and the red mark on his skin where Spencer kept pressing his hand to stop his diaphragm going into spasms. If Floyd had the talent to do so, he'd buy a lump of marble and spend a few years carving that stomach, neck, face… hip bones…

'We have to go.' Floyd suddenly said. Watching Spencer was beginning to make him feel too tingly. If they stayed there for much longer he'd have to… Floyd's hands went into fists at his side… He'd have to smack the living shit out of Spencer and fuck him till he was bleeding his life out of his arse, and he didn't have time to do that right now. 'Spencer…' Floyd took the water bottle from him and screwed the cap back on. 'The screams have stopped. Either he's dead and we're too late or he's OK. What do you think?'

Spencer's eyes went wide… where was this leading? 'I think we need to hurry up and get there.'

'Yeah, thought you'd say that.' The bottle was put back into the bag and Floyd gave Spencer a small smirk. 'Can you read my mind? Seriously… can you?'

'Pardon?'

'Never mind… just wondering.'

'I'll never understand you… after all this time I still don't understand why you say or ask some of the things you do.'

'Probably best it stays that way. Let's go.'

They could hear more the closer they got. No more of the blood curdling screams they'd heard before, but now just cries and howls. Sam was a noisy fuck, but that wasn't what was going on. Floyd knew that much at least. He also felt that the closer they were getting to Sam the more his head was pounding. It started with a spike of pain right between his eyes and it had curled back over and behind his eyes and now was a tight band around his brain. This time when he stopped it wasn't because Spencer needed to catch up. Floyd had actually slowed down considerably and Spencer was keeping good pace with him. This time he stopped because his nose suddenly exploded into a fountain of a nosebleed. He'd not had one so bad in a long old time. It wasn't bright red fresh blood dripping out, it was lumpy and dark and stinking. He ignored Spencer's exclamations of panic and pinched hard on the bridge of his nose with one hand and indicating that he needed a smoke with the other. He ignored Spencer's barrage of questions and alarm as he spat out lumps of blood to the ground by his feet.

'Something – is – in – my – fucking – head!' Floyd finally managed to say.

'Something? What?'

'Rummaging.'

Spencer didn't fully understand, but he knew what it was like for it to feel as though something was inside his head. He knew that feeling very well. He rubbed at the bruise he still had between his eyes and scratched at the sore places on his scalp. 'Ambrose?'

'Mother fucker.' Floyd spat out more blood, wiped at his still dripping nose and stood. 'He is so dead.' Floyd pressed his fists to his temples. 'Need to block the fuck. Give me a few.'

Spencer didn't know what to do, so he did the only thing he could think of, he stood closely in front of Floyd and wrapped his arms tightly around him. It wouldn't help Floyd, at least Spencer didn't think it would help Floyd, but it helped Spencer. But he felt Floyd place his hands on the back of his neck and he felt Floyd rest his head on his shoulder. He wasn't pushing him away… At least not yet. 'Just let me know what you want me to do… you need another smoke?'

'You're doing just great.' Floyd muttered. 'Give me a few more minutes…'

They stood there in a bloody embrace as Floyd coughed gunk over Spencer's shoulder and bled from his nose over that pretty skin… and they listened to Sam's almost dog-like howling coming from somewhere very close by now. They'd left the track Spencer had taken. Left the markers behind them a while ago, when they first heard the screams, but Spencer thought they were close. There was something about the air here… and of course the sound level and quality of Sam's sounds of pain.

'What's he doing to Sam?' Spencer moaned. 'What the hell is going on? Did I scream like that?'

'Babes… this shit should never have happened. Shouldn't have let you go off on your own.' That was as close to sorry that Floyd was going to get. Spencer took it and locked it away somewhere safe. A rare treasure. A real apology.

'No point in regretting it. We need to help Sam.'

Slowly they let go of each other. The bleeding had stopped. Floyd's face was ghostly white with smears of dark red across it. Something from a horror movie. They moved on again, but now they were walking… Floyd's headache slowly increasing, feeling like there was a spike driven between his eyes and something was mashing his brains, but he thought that whatever had been in there was just now on the outer edges. He'd pushed it back. It could maybe find out what he had for dinner last night or when he last had a slash, but not much else.

Spencer's own head felt light. One of his ears was heavy and full, as though he was on an aeroplane or he had an ear infection. Not anything he couldn't deal with, but he felt ill and it was getting worse the closer they got to the pump and Sam and probably Ambrose. His back was bleeding too. He didn't realise as he couldn't actually see it and sweat was running down his back anyway, but the scar Floyd had given Spencer was open and raw and the blood was joining the sweat and running happily down his back. Floyd had seen it. He'd noted it well, but he didn't know what it meant. Why it would happen. How it had anything to do with fuck all! If indeed it did… so he said nothing. If Spencer didn't know then it was one less thing to worry about.

The small building started off as a slightly darker blob amongst the shadows. Floyd gestured to it as he ran and Spencer managed a nod without making the cavern spin around. They kept going and now all they could hear was the sound of their own breathing and pounding hearts. There was no sound coming from the small building at all and this worried Spencer. What if Sam hadn't even made it this far? What if they'd been wrong and had left Sam behind them somewhere screaming in pain… 'It's wrong.' Spencer stopped running. 'We cant go there. This is wrong Floyd, we need to turn back. Sam's not here.'

Floyd stopped too and spun on Spencer causing a long cast off of blood and drool as he did so. 'Spencer, sit there. Stay.'

'Like a dog.' Spencer snapped back.

'Just like a good dog. Sit, stay, no barking.'

'Not funny. He's not there. We've come to the wrong place.' Spencer flopped down to sit though and with his elbows on his thighs he rested his head in his hands.

Floyd approached and hunkered down in front of him. 'Headache? Feeling tense? Anxious? You need a good seeing to is all. Sam's there. That fucker Ambrose is playing games. You want to play his game then you sit there and let him fuck with your mind? I'm not going to assume that we've made an error until I've killed the bitch who fucked you. OK… any last words before I leave – alone – to fight the evil monster?'

'I'll come with you, I just feel…'

'If you come with me, you gotta remember whose team you're playing on. You're not Ambrose's dog. Understand? Whatever he says to you and whatever he does, you're mine.'

'Understood.

They walked. Floyd pulled out a blade from his baldric. Spencer muttered words under his breath and actually believed none of it. As they got closer Spencer's words stopped. They could see Sam's bow still in the holster and they could see his arrows still in the quiver. Sam's backpack was laying near the door and his knife was slightly further away from his other things which looked like they'd just been dropped. The knife seemed more as though it'd been thrown… lobbed at nothing by appearances. 'Gather up Sam's things. Get ready to leg it if we – if you have to. Take Sam's things if you do.'

o-o-o

Sam thought he was dead. There really could be no other reason he was in the amount of pain he was in. No one could be in such agony and still be alive. He was very sure of that. He was also very sure that Ambrose had nailed him to the rear wall of the pump room by a spike between his eyes. He tried a few times to reach up and pull it out, but his hands were nailed to the wall too; at about hip height at his sides. He had a feeling that something was through his knees too and he knew that his feet were off the floor. No… he was sure… being crucified by Ambrose was the most painful thing he'd experienced. There was a dreadful buzz, buzz, buzzing in his head. It started from that nail, which seemed to be made up of something neon and blue and shiny and glittery and unreal, and travel down his body to the tip of his toes were every few minutes it exploded out causing Sam to shake and drool and bite his tongue and sometimes his eyes rolled up into his head and he lost track of time.

This wasn't what he'd wanted. He'd not been given water. He'd not been given any damned thing. Ambrose hadn't even screwed him! He'd done nothing but stick him like a butterfly to the back wall of the hut. He'd not spoken to Sam and when Sam had tried to beg Ambrose to let him go he'd just run a finger down Sam's chest and shaken his head.

And licked his lips.

And snapped his teeth together.

And said… 'Very tasty.'

And that was all. He didn't try to stop Sam from screaming.

Ambrose was waiting.

And he didn't have to wait much longer.

'Ambrose you mother fucking cunt!' Floyd bellowed. He needed Ambrose out here. He was not going into the creature's lair. 'Get your arse out here and show yourself!'

Spencer and Floyd watched as the door slowly opened. Floyd heard Spencer let out a hiss from between his teeth. It was all Floyd needed to know. It was the right person. There was a strange blue flickering glow somewhere inside the building. To Spencer it looked like a neon light with a problem. Ambrose was dressed as Spencer remembered him. Dark shirt and pants with suspenders over his shoulders. He had straggly shoulder length fair hair… The colour of hay Floyd immediately thought… I wonder if it smells like that? Then Floyd raised a fist to his head and shook it slowly.

'Good try you bastard, but not good enough.'

Ambrose let out a small chuckle. 'Funny what you have running over the surface of your brain… you have that creature there as your fuck, and that other dog as your, well as your dog! And yet it's yellow hair and the smell of horses which you crave! That's funny! Don't you think that's funny Spencer?'

Reid said nothing. He tried not to even look at the man in case he did or said something he didn't want to do.

'Let my dog go.' Floyd said in the most commanding voice he could manage.

'I'll make you an offer.' Ambrose smirked… and it made the slightly worn appearance of his face smooth out slightly. 'You can have what you crave but you will give me the dog. He's interesting! So much filth in that small mind of his. So much… Spencer you wouldn't believe what he wants to do to you! Gosh almighty! Even made me blush a bit.'

'I'm not interested in your offer and Spencer's not interested in your lies. Let him go or I'll turn you into a bloody smear all over hell. Don't mistake my words as a threat… they're a fucking promise.'

Ambrose though, did make the offer. He snapped his fingers and that offer was standing there in front of Floyd with huge green terrified eyes and that damned hair. Floyd blinked, licked his lips and shook his head. 'It's not real. You just plucked that from my head. It's not real and if it was I'd have to still turn the offer down.

The lad with the blonde hair and green eyes was pushed forwards. He was probably about fourteen years old, a skinny kid wearing a pale blue checked shirt with the sleeves rolled up beyond his elbows. He had on rough slightly baggy jeans which came to his shins and a pair of old battered leather sandals on his feet. But it was the face… and the hair which Floyd was trying to rip his gaze away from. The slightly wavy hair with the sun kissed highlights which reached to his collar and then curled around in little twists, just big enough to wind your fingers through.

'It's not him.' Floyd said again.

Spencer had no idea who this person was. He'd never seen him before, but he could see by the look on the lad's face that he knew Floyd and he could equally tell that he wished he didn't.

'You raped him.' Ambrose told Floyd. 'You must remember that train trip… you killed a load of people and whilst still in your blood lust you fucked this poor boy.'

'No… it's not him.' Floyd repeated. 'That never happened.' He added quickly.

'Well why don't we let the boy tell us… Tell him… Go for it Adam… tell Floyd what you remember.'

The lad shook his head. His chin wobbled as though he was going to burst into tears and then the slightly freckled face settled again. 'You raped me. We knelt in puddles of blood and you forced yourself onto me.'

Floyd took a step back. 'You… you wanted that!' Floyd exclaimed. 'You were begging for it! You never… not once did you say you didn't…'

'You ruined me. You turned me into a monster. You turned me into a murderer.'

'I gave you gold! I gave you treasures and horses and…'

'You paid me off with gold you took from the men you killed! You paid for my silence with dead man's gold!'

Spencer took a step forwards, but Floyd placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him going further. 'Get Sam. I'll deal with this shit.'

'I shot Sam in the back with my Pa's shotgun. Then when he was laying there in the sand bleeding and crying like a baby, I shot him again in the back of his neck. And that's what you turned me into.'

Floyd took a step towards him. 'I rescued you. I took you from that place where you spent your days piling up corpses to be burnt! I took you from that…'

'I would like to say that you're a charitable man, but you didn't rescue me because you were being kind. You took me from that place so you could abuse me… touch me… humiliate me… turn me into a monster like you.'

'Adam…'

'Oh such sweet words. I assume…' Ambrose said with a laugh in his voice, '…that you don't want to go to Floyd?'

'I'd sooner spend eternity in hell than be with that pig. He took everything from me. Everything.'

Ambrose clicked his fingers again… Adam was gone… if he'd even ever been there.

Spencer heard Floyd's slightly distressed voice howling the word… 'NO!' As Spencer ducked through the doorway into the pump room. The bluish glow was coming from the rear wall, which was lit up like Christmas and Sam was pinned there like an obscene fairy. A very obscene one as it happened. Spencer moved around the side of the pump and the big dip in the floor and just stood there looking at Sam who seemed to be pinned to the wall by – light? Seeing the thing going through Sam's skull made his own head hurt and he wondered if the same had been done to him. Had be been nailed to the wall by fairy lights? He didn't know. Thankfully that was something he couldn't remember.

'Sam.' Spencer reached out to touch him on the shoulder. 'I'm going to help.'

Sam's eyes opened and for once both of them seemed to be looking in the same direction, directly at Spencer. 'Don't touch me.' Sam hissed at Spencer. 'It'll kill you. Don't touch. He's got me wired up to something.'

'What's he doing? How has he done this?' Spence walked to the side to see if the blue light was actually coming out of the back of Sam's head… he couldn't see. Too much dirty hair in the way.

Sam opened his mouth to say something just as his back arched and a sizzling buzz of something exited his feet. There was a slight smell of burnt toenails and ozone and urine; a definite smell of fresh urine, which Spencer, being sensitive and not there to humiliate didn't mention. Sam let out a yelp of pain and his eyes closed and his mouth drooled. It seemed like the end of the conversation for now at least. Spencer turned from Sam and had a quick look around the place. There was nothing. Nothing at all… apart from the pump and the dip in the ground in front of it. For some reason Spencer had expected to locate a secret stash of body oils and shower gels. There was nothing. He looked back at Sam who was shuddering and shaking, pinned about six inches off the floor and then Spencer listened to what was going on outside.

'What is your purpose?' Floyd was asking.

'Why do I need one? Cant I be doing this because I want to? Cant a man have fun?'

'Let Sam go.'

'We have talked about that. Can do it. So sorry… he's just so interesting… I can almost smell his perverted flesh burning as I leech off him. Cant be much more fun than that now can it? So you don't want to swap for Adam? What about Albion?'

Floyd looked at the open doorway into the hut. He was hoping that Sam would be standing there, but there was still the blue light coming through and now it seemed stronger. What the hell was Spencer doing? Why had he not dragged Sam out of there yet? 'I'm not now and never have been interested in Albion. A surface thought maybe, but not the right one. Try harder. See me after class. Do one hundred lines. I'm not swapping Sam for Albion.'

'Bern.' Ambrose said… and with a click of his fingers another young man was standing there. Bern again was mid teens. He was wearing a rough homespun pair of breeches and an undyed colourless shirt which laced up the front. He was bare foot… and again it was the hair… a tousled mess of brown locks reaching just below his ears.

'I never wanted Bern.' Floyd announced. 'Never!'

'You let me rub against you.' Bern told Floyd. 'You let me dry hump you. You told me that you would protect me. You said that you'd not let Sam get me, and you lied.'

Floyd shook his head so violently that it started a nosebleed again. 'I never… I didn't say that! Well, maybe… OK! OK I said that! So what you going to do about it?'

'Haunt your fucking deceitful ignorant twisted soul forever. I'm going to visit you in your dreams and show you every nasty thing you've done… starting right at the beginning of time and going right up to now… right this minute, because I know what you're thinking!' The lad called Bern stepped up close to Floyd. 'And I know what you did to me after Sam slit my throat.'

'Spencer!' Floyd called out after taking a step away from Bern. 'Get Sam out of there! I don't care what you do, just get him the hell out.'

'What about me?' Floyd spun around at the sound of a long lost but never forgotten voice.

'You? What I never hurt you!' Floyd blinked at yet another person Ambrose presented him with.

The man was tall. Maybe taller even than Spencer. He appeared to be in his mid thirties. This was no kid. He was broad shouldered and strong… he was roughly shaven and had on a Tshirt and jeans. A good looking man who didn't look like he was going to put up with any of Floyd's shit or excuses… And Floyd knew this.

'Don't.' Floyd said and gave the man a dismissive gesture. 'I know what you're going to say. I let you down. I let you die. I raped you. I abused you and lied to you, but you have to remember that times were different. Times were very different… and you… you fucking stole from me!'

'I stood at your side through it all. I stood there and let you slowly chip away…'

'At your veneer. Your false self… I just let you see who you really were.'

The man folded his arms over his chest. 'Is that what you really think you did? You were helping me? Showing me the light? You cursed me! You sent me to hell! You dragged me down and you did what you did to Adam, Bern, Albion… You destroyed us!'

Floyd shrugged. 'Whatever… if that's what you want to think.'

He turned his back on the man and looked at Ambrose. 'Very funny. Hope this is going to keep you amused for a while, cos it's gonna stop real soon.'

'I'm stopping you? I'm pointing a gun at your head? Stop me then! You don't want to see it, then stop me! But I think you're enjoying it. I think you're revelling in the pain you passed on to other people. Crossing worlds, raping, despoiling, hurting, dragging people down with you the way you have done with Spencer… all the same. Over and again you'll do it. You think you're helping these people? You think that money you have obtained by selling human flesh to butchers is good money? You think that trading your arse for some cash is worthy?'

'Never! I've never!'

'You want me to name your clients?'

Floyd stepped back and glanced to Spencer who was still without Sam but now standing out side the pump room. Floyd waved a where the hell is Sam? Hand at Spencer.

'Trapped.' Spencer replied. Spencer then frowned and walked back into the pump room. He wanted to hear what was going on with Floyd, but he also wanted to see if his idea was going to work.

Spencer had heard only part of what was going on outside. The room seemed to suck away sound and muffle it. Though earlier when Sam had been screaming they'd been able to hear him well enough. Spencer wondered if it was just his own ears that didn't want to hear what was going on out there. Was Ambrose lining up all of Floyd's ex's? All his lost lovers? Spencer didn't know and didn't really want to know, but that guy in the Tshirt and jeans was actually older in appearance than Floyd was! Positively ancient by comparison if you looked at the boys popping up and pointing accusing fingers at Floyd… boy after boy… teenagers all of them… kids. Dead kids. Kid's Floyd had abused and killed. He sat on the floor in front of Sam just as another weird spasm went through him and something dark and maybe evil shot out of Sam's feet like a black bolt of energy.

'Sam… something is going on outside. Is that anything to do with you? I don't expect you to answer, but if it is and if you know all of those people, can you try to block it?'

He didn't expect and answer and didn't get one, but Sam spat… he hawked a gob onto the floor in front of Spencer. It was a good enough answer.

'I believe that you are possessed… or are held by demonic force and I'm going to attempt to release you. I'll do what I can, but please before something dreadful happens out there, try to block those thoughts.' Then with his eyes fixed on Sam's feet he started…'Egredere tu es protectio corporis intrare. Nullus poterit vobis alica. Per fidem et amorem virtutis et loco excedere non dico vobis qua vos vado tergum ut a. Alica autem, quae ponit hic, et egomitto vobis retexo ipsum foveas sunt Inferni eras. Nullam huc.' Spencer muttered the words quietly at first and as Sam started screaming and writhing and bolts of light started not to pierce him from the outside but seem to fire out from within, Spencer kept going… the 'Nullam huc.' Was repeated over again, louder and louder as Spencer stood up and stared at Sam in the eyes… those pale blue eyes… which weren't Sam's but the eyes of something else looking out from inside of Sam's face. It was hideous and maybe one of the most terrifying things Spencer had ever seen… the voice coming out of Sam's mouth even more so… did Spencer have something like this inside of him? He had no idea! 'Nullam huc!' Spencer spat out at the face.

'You cant stop me, cunt!' A voice which certainly wasn't Sam's growled back at him. 'You have no faith!'

'Vade daemon. Ut ostenderet tibi et numquam rursus.'

'Vade… begone yourself you child! You're not even of this place. You cant force me out!'

But Spencer could hear that voice wasn't so sure… he could see those strange blue eyes of Sam's begin to glow. He could see Sam's hair begin to stand on end like he'd just licked the third rail.'

'Vade…' Spencer started again… he didn't get any further… something shot from Sam's chest… Spencer thought it was from right above Sam's heart and smacked into Spencer. The force of what felt like an electric shock lifted him off his feet. He flew back, catching his hip on the side of the pump and hit the wall next to the door.

'Don't you dare fuck with me!' The thing in Sam screamed. 'Filthy whore! Filthy cock-gobbling, arse-sucking whore!'

Floyd could hear the howling scream coming from Sam. Spencer seemed to be annoying him, or whatever was in him, or using him, but it wasn't stopping Ambrose from presenting Floyd with yet another painful sight.

He stood at about five six… he was bronzed, oiled, almost naked and so beautiful that Floyd would have sold his soul to have that person back in his life. It wasn't him though. Floyd knew it wasn't.

'You murdered me. You murdered me and then you killed my people. You weren't happy that you raped, murdered, then raped me again before setting my corpse into a river to float away and rot… no, you had to kill my people too.'

'You exaggerate. I didn't kill them. You're not Little River. Go away.' Floyd looked at Albion. 'Running out of names? Running out of things to try to make me feel bad? I have no regrets. I've maybe, but only maybe made a few mistakes, but regrets, never.'

Little River popped out of existence but the tall bloke in the faded blue Tshirt was still standing there with an accusatory look on his face.

'What? What do you want from me! What you looking at me like that for? Tell you what? You, the big man who always does everything right and never puts a step wrong… Go rescue Sam.'

'He doesn't need my help. Never did. Never will. But I know what you did. I saw most every nasty little thing you did. I watched you.'

'Fuck off.' Floyd again put his back to him. 'Just fuck off, Eth… did my best. Cant do more.'

'Then your best really does suck the big one, Floyd. Your best stinks.'

Floyd ignored this comment. It might well be true but Floyd wasn't going to show a damned hallucination that he was right. He didn't look at Ambrose either. Floyd wanted to believe that Ambrose was just a bad bit of rotten imagination too, but someone had screwed Spencer and however good Spencer's imagination was it didn't provide him with a bath and hair wash! He walked in long angry strides towards the building, but a hand on his shoulder made him stop.

'Going to run to help your boy? Want to know what I did to him? What I offered him?'

Floyd pushed the hand off him. Hallucinations couldn't do that. He turned to look at Ambrose. 'You know what? I don't care. I don't give a damn what you did to Spencer. Whatever it was, he survived and cant even remember. It's win win the way I look at it. He's doing a good job in there too. Good enough to bother you.'

'I'm not bothered.'

'And nor am I.' Floyd pulled a cheroot out of his pocket and lit it with his silver lighter. 'Want one?' Ambrose shook his head, but that smirk on his face… oh that smirk… Floyd was going to wipe that off and put it back where it belonged. 'Where's my sword?'

'Yours? That was yours? I thought it was Spencer's. It's mine now. Payment.'

'Wasn't his to give. I want it returned.'

Ambrose shook his head. 'Too late. Much too late…' As he spoke they both heard a scream coming from both Sam and Spencer. Ambrose's eyes flicked towards the building, but Floyd attempted to ignore it.

'You are going to die for harming my boys. You know that don't you?'

Ambrose's smirk turned into a smile. 'Again I point out that I'm not armed and I'm not threatening you. What's stopping you from… oh say, breaking my neck?'

'I will do that… after I've stomped your brains out onto the floor. Oh yes I will. I'll do every nasty little thing you think I would do to you. I'll hang you up by your feet and fuck you till your head drops off… but I want my sword back first.' Floyd placed a hand on his heart. 'Wont use it on you. You have my word. I say that… on the life of Sammy-boy in there and Spencer… on their lives, I'd not use it on you.'

Ambrose tucked his thumbs behind his suspenders. 'So you cant kill me because you want your sword? You cant kill me because you are a materialistic bitch?'

'Something like that, but materialism will wane and I'll forget and kill you anyway.'

Ambrose now spread his hands out… 'Go… kill me! Kill me before I ram my iron rod up your dirty maggot covered behind. Kill me before I smother your cunt in there in the rose water he's so desperate for. Kill me before I skull fuck you. I'm going to tear you apart, Flanders. I'm going to rip you in to pieces… and even your precious Old Woman wont be able to help you. You're lost… very lost. Not like Spencer… he's from up top… not like Sam… he's from here. This is his home… you though. Oh you're special. And I'm going to get the award; the stick on star of excellence, for finally stopping your poison.'

Floyd slipped his baldric of knives off and dropped it to the side and was about to pounce on Ambrose and scratch his eyes out of his head, but oddly it was Ambrose who took that first leap. And a damned good leap it was too. Floyd felt himself being pushed back as Ambrose slammed into him and though Floyd prepared for a thumping it was to his hair that Ambrose's hands went… moreover to Floyd's scalp.

'Oh no you don't you motherfucker!' Floyd instantly knew what this thing was going to do. It would send its energy through Floyd's skull and right into his brain… it would then rip and tear at every memory Floyd had, and he had rather a few. Some damned good ones too and he didn't want them lost. He head-butted, brought his knee up into Ambrose's groin, pushed him away and tore at his face… all at the same time… 'You son of a bitch!' Floyd could feel the burning on his scalp even though the hands hadn't made proper contact. He could smell burning hair and scorched skin though. 'That's why you bathed Spencer! You mother fucker!' And this time Floyd was on Ambrose.

It was a very typical Floyd type fight… punching, kicking, scratching, biting… Floyd wasn't the sort to not do something just because it was maybe not manly. If it could cause pain, then Floyd did it. He bit down on Ambrose's left ear, ripping and tearing at the cartilage and skin. He bit Ambrose on the nose and had something in his mouth worth spitting out. He knocked out teeth… crushed balls, gouged eyes… in return, Ambrose bit Floyd on the side of the neck, hard enough for blood to flow pretty damned big. He also gave Floyd a ball crushing kick, and a smack in Floyd's mouth so hard that Floyd thought he'd not have a tooth left in his mouth.

At some point Ambrose had lost his suspenders and now kneeling on Floyd's back he had one end wrapped around his neck. 'Gonna pop it right off your damned shoulders.' Ambrose boasted.

Floyd slipped his fingers under the thing digging into his neck, but if something spectacular didn't happen real soon, Ambrose was going to keep his word on this one. He could feel his blood squirting out around what Ambrose had slipped around his neck.

Spencer had been sitting on the floor near to the door. He couldn't hear what was going on outside anymore. A horrific buzzing had filled his head. He couldn't even hear the words he was saying… but something seemed to be happening. Sam's mouth was open and issuing forth a scream like the one they'd first heard. A blood curdling howl. He was shaking and his body seemed to be twisting and writhing as more of the strange lights burst from him… then it happened. At first the wall Spencer was leaning on started to vibrate, then the floor, things fell of the ceiling; bits of stone and lumps of rock and then with a final howl Sam suddenly parted company with the wall and was propelled across the room where he landed with a yelp and a whimper on the ground next to Reid. Then there was a clatter, something shiny dropped… and though Spencer couldn't see exactly what it was he knew it was the sword. He grabbed Sam and dragged him from the room then legged it back in. More things fell on him, a few coins, bones, some gem stones… payments made most likely. The floor bucked and swayed, the walls formed cracks and heaved open. Spencer placed his hand on the hilt of the sword, turned and ran back towards the door. He was halfway across the room when the roof collapsed, the walls buckled inwards and the whole place became a pile of black rubble. Spencer felt something smack him on the back of the head. He felt his knees giving way and then there was nothing but darkness.