turned her face away from the first punch, but the second struck her on the tip of the chin, causing a sickening pain to reverberate through her head.
Jenna laughed.
“How’s that feel, bitch?”
She moved in again, but before she could deliver another blow, Daniel removed his right hand from Isobel’s arm and thrust it down her pants. She screamed with pain as he brutalised her. Even now, her reaction to his abuse shocked her. In that moment, all of her fear and embarrassment exploded into something wild and uncontrollable.
Isobel’s scream sounded like a roar. She twisted and broke free, striking Roberto with the back of her hand. He fled from her, retreating several steps, before staring back with an expression of bewilderment. Only Daniel hung on; his silver bracelet momentarily caught in her underwear. He pulled hard and it came away. With both hands free, he reached forward, grasped the back of her dress with his left hand, and punched her in the back of the head with his right.
Isobel remembered the feeling in her head; her thoughts burnt, as if they swam in acid and her vision blurred with pain.
He screamed abuse at her and she recoiled from the strange high-pitched tone of his voice.
“I’m going to take you right here, you whore. Then … I’m going to smash your ugly head in.”
Isobel reacted without conscious thought. She felt her hand make contact with a heavy rounded object that turned out to be a Vodka bottle belonging to Roberto. In a wild panic, she lashed out and the impact jarred her arm. She felt the crunch of breaking bone, as Jovanovich collapsed at her feet. The next blow struck Roberto on the crown of his skull, which broke the bottle and covered him in a spray of raspberry coloured vodka. He fell to his knees, clutching his head.
She remembered seeing Daniel in a similar position to Roberto. He knelt with his hands covering his face in a futile attempt to stem the flow of blood. It spurted through his fingers and pooled in his lap. He kept screaming the same words.
“You bitch … You rotten bitch …”
Only when she looked away from Daniel, did she notice the blood on the end of the broken bottle, which she still held firmly in her hand.
Isobel sighed and tried to shake off the loathing that came with her memories. She took several large breaths before addressing the sergeant.
“Look, lady. I picked up rubbish every weekend for a year and spent another one digging graves. They even kicked me out of school. I finished my studies through some shitty correspondence course. I think those bastards already got their revenge, don’t you? This is just a coincidence. Just some morons trashing the place for fun.”
Without a word, the sergeant stood and led Isobel towards the rear of the building. They climbed through the scattered debris, until they reached the entrance to Isobel’s office stairwell.
“Look behind you, Isobel. There’s something you should see.”
Isobel turned and looked back in the opposite direction. High on the wall of the second story, were a collection of bitter words written in red paint.
Oh God … It’s the same hateful garbage they put there before they killed my father.
BEWARE TOOL OF SATAN.
Chapter Ten
A n ethereal glow of golden beams streamed in through the shuttered window and in that moment just before wakefulness, it felt to Tom like the afterlife.
“It’s time. Get dressed and come down stairs.”
The man standing beside his bed, grinned and extended his hand.
“My name’s Luther.”
Tom’s hand disappeared into the bulk of the man’s grip.
“Don’t dally, Noah’s waiting.”
Tom noticed the fresh bandages covering his burnt torso and lacerated hands, as he struggled from the bed. His chest hurt as he tried to stand; each breath, feeling like metal grinding against metal.
He entered the kitchen and Noah marched over to greet him.
“How are you feeling, lad?”
“Look, about last night, I felt tired and angry and
Jenna laughed.
“How’s that feel, bitch?”
She moved in again, but before she could deliver another blow, Daniel removed his right hand from Isobel’s arm and thrust it down her pants. She screamed with pain as he brutalised her. Even now, her reaction to his abuse shocked her. In that moment, all of her fear and embarrassment exploded into something wild and uncontrollable.
Isobel’s scream sounded like a roar. She twisted and broke free, striking Roberto with the back of her hand. He fled from her, retreating several steps, before staring back with an expression of bewilderment. Only Daniel hung on; his silver bracelet momentarily caught in her underwear. He pulled hard and it came away. With both hands free, he reached forward, grasped the back of her dress with his left hand, and punched her in the back of the head with his right.
Isobel remembered the feeling in her head; her thoughts burnt, as if they swam in acid and her vision blurred with pain.
He screamed abuse at her and she recoiled from the strange high-pitched tone of his voice.
“I’m going to take you right here, you whore. Then … I’m going to smash your ugly head in.”
Isobel reacted without conscious thought. She felt her hand make contact with a heavy rounded object that turned out to be a Vodka bottle belonging to Roberto. In a wild panic, she lashed out and the impact jarred her arm. She felt the crunch of breaking bone, as Jovanovich collapsed at her feet. The next blow struck Roberto on the crown of his skull, which broke the bottle and covered him in a spray of raspberry coloured vodka. He fell to his knees, clutching his head.
She remembered seeing Daniel in a similar position to Roberto. He knelt with his hands covering his face in a futile attempt to stem the flow of blood. It spurted through his fingers and pooled in his lap. He kept screaming the same words.
“You bitch … You rotten bitch …”
Only when she looked away from Daniel, did she notice the blood on the end of the broken bottle, which she still held firmly in her hand.
Isobel sighed and tried to shake off the loathing that came with her memories. She took several large breaths before addressing the sergeant.
“Look, lady. I picked up rubbish every weekend for a year and spent another one digging graves. They even kicked me out of school. I finished my studies through some shitty correspondence course. I think those bastards already got their revenge, don’t you? This is just a coincidence. Just some morons trashing the place for fun.”
Without a word, the sergeant stood and led Isobel towards the rear of the building. They climbed through the scattered debris, until they reached the entrance to Isobel’s office stairwell.
“Look behind you, Isobel. There’s something you should see.”
Isobel turned and looked back in the opposite direction. High on the wall of the second story, were a collection of bitter words written in red paint.
Oh God … It’s the same hateful garbage they put there before they killed my father.
BEWARE TOOL OF SATAN.
Chapter Ten
A n ethereal glow of golden beams streamed in through the shuttered window and in that moment just before wakefulness, it felt to Tom like the afterlife.
“It’s time. Get dressed and come down stairs.”
The man standing beside his bed, grinned and extended his hand.
“My name’s Luther.”
Tom’s hand disappeared into the bulk of the man’s grip.
“Don’t dally, Noah’s waiting.”
Tom noticed the fresh bandages covering his burnt torso and lacerated hands, as he struggled from the bed. His chest hurt as he tried to stand; each breath, feeling like metal grinding against metal.
He entered the kitchen and Noah marched over to greet him.
“How are you feeling, lad?”
“Look, about last night, I felt tired and angry and
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