Cruel and Unusual - serialised novel EXCLUSIVE to Steemit Part 21

Exclusive for Steemit - serialisation of Cruel and Unusual – my second novel

Episodes:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

Pictures from Google Images and Pixabay

Steeling himself now that he had made his decision, he stepped out of the shadows. He approached the woman with confidence and took her arm. He led her, unresisting, out of the alley and through another.

“Are you available dear?” he asked her as soon as he was certain that he had not been noticed.

“Eh? Yeah, yes sir, I am at that,” she said as she grinned up at him and he realised that she was older than he had imagined and by God, she smelled rank.

“Good,” he forced his voice to sound amenable, his special and practiced tone - the one that he used on his better class of patient. “But not here, I know a place not far from here.”

“I gots me a place, lovie,” she said and tried to lead him in another direction.

“No, this way, I have the perfect place,” he did not have the perfect place, but he could find it.

His scalp was tingling again, but it was becoming more insistent. His neck and shoulders felt the needles running down and now they had gone past, down his arms but no further than that. Jack stopped before the sensation arrived at his hands.

“Are we ‘ere then lovie?” the crone asked.

“No. Shut up.”

She looked up at him and something about his concentration must have cut through her gin-sodden brain. She pulled from his grasp. “I ain’t stayin’ ‘ere. You’re up to summink. Be off, let me alone!”

In desperation, he drew the cane from its sheath and as she turned to stagger off, he sliced at her back, cutting through the clothing and into her flesh.

The blade was as sharp as his surgeon’s tools and for a moment, she thought that he had just grabbed for her and missed. Then with a small groan, she fell to her knees, dropping her ragged shawl as she tried to reach around the back of herself.

Blood seeped through her clothes and she whimpered as she sank onto her front. Her hands were still fluttering around her sides, trying to reach her wound.

Jack watched it all in a detached and clinical silence and then he was aware that the tingling sensation had begun to move again, into his hands and his palms were itching once more. He managed to block out the sensation with a great deal of willpower and he melted into the shadows to observe.

Then he saw the beast. It was watching him, sitting in a puddle of moonlight as though by intent so that he could see it better. The light slanting from over the rooftops was made almost palpable by the smog which was beginning to thicken.

Then the wolf - which Jack knew to be a Werewolf - spoke. Jack almost jumped out of his skin. He never imagined that they could speak.

“Well finish it then. Do not let it suffer so. Do not worry; I shall not steal your kill.”

The voice was deep and velvety. Jack could imagine that voice talking to him whilst he allowed its owner to tear out his throat; it was almost hypnotic in the alluring timbre.

Jack thought of deep silky fur enveloping him as he sunk into unfathomable depths to meet with ecstasy, delight and... blood. Jack stayed silent but he did move closer to the beast. Then, as before, the eyes flashed and its human form was revealed to him. This one was a woman, and he had a glimpse of recognition, but could not place where he recognised her from. Jack gasped but waved for the wolf to go forward.

The wolf looked puzzled - and Jack was bemused at how an animal could look puzzled. Then it shrugged and moved on past him. She positioned herself on the opposite side of the woman’s body so that she could keep a wary eye on Jack as she devoured the unexpected prize.

“I do not recommend that you stay too long to watch, my friend. I shall be finished here very soon and my appetite is but whetted. Of course, I much prefer the easier prey such as you have kindly furnished me with but rest assured, your blade is no match for my weaponry.”

Jack took the hint and fled. He became happier once he had reached a populated area and he slipped inside the first public house he came to, to imbibe some spirits to steady his jangling nerves. He was thankful that all he got from the barman was a dirty glass full of whisky and an odd look. Jack did not want conversation and the barman seemed to share that sentiment. Jack did not trust his own voice to be steady at that moment.

He did not think he could face going into the all but deserted streets again that night but after a few glasses of the amber spirit, his courage mustered and he felt that he ought to try.

The barman was beginning to take too much notice of him, as was a large woman who Jack could not quite decide whether she was looking at him or the barman at the other side of the bar, so bad was her squint. Before she could proposition him, therefore, Jack made a move.

He had not realised until then, just how much of the whisky he had downed, but he was not too drunk to walk – not quite.

Once outside in the narrow street, he realised the chances of calling a Hackney cab were slim to none. He shook his head to clear it and set off back for his own neighbourhood. Trying to keep to the better lighted streets if he could, Jack made unsteady progress.

He leaned against a wall in order to get his bearings, just as someone approached. He stayed still and quiet but the person arrived directly in front of him and through his drunken haze, he could only just tell that it was a woman.

“Ere, you look in a frightful way. You got any money?” she squawked at him, making him wince.

“Not much. How much will it cost?”

“Kinda forward ain’t ya?”

“Look, I need a companion to walk with me. I shall pay you when I arrive home safely. I do not have more than a few pennies with me, I have been drinking you see.”

“I can see that, darlin’. Come on then. Which way is ‘ome?”

Jack nodded as she pulled him upright and propped him against her hip whilst she got a better hold of him.

She prattled on all the way to Jack’s street, barely pausing for added direction from Jack - or for breath.