October 30th, 2012 | Published in Haventon Chronicles
Ragnar grabbed the end of the pole and knocked George flying into the bannister before pulling down the ladder himself. He climbed it silenntly and peered through the hatch. There was a gaunt young woman chained to the wall at the end of the loft staring fearfully towards the hatch but there was little light in the attic. Her hair was matted and she had several cuts that had obviously been inflicted on her deliberately the main source of the blood scent, however was her fingers. She’d been prying at the point where her chains met the wall, trying to free herself. She must have been quietly working away at the crumbling mortar for days because he suspected one good tug would free her now.
Ragnar slid back down the ladder and glared at George who was cowering in the corner before kicking him in the ribs.
“You disgust me!” he hissed.
George cowered back but said nothing. He couldn’t hide his thought though. Hypocrite! You kill people all the time.
Ragnar knelt down and yanked George’s head back, forcing him to meet his eyes.
“I do,” he agreed in a soft, deadly tone. “But that’s a matter of survival, I don’t take pleasure in it and I’m not human. You’ve been been tormenting that girl for fun and she’s your own kind.” He pushed George back down and tried to decide how to handle this.
He was certain the young woman hadn’t realised that he wasn’t George when he looked through the hatch. He, however, had recognised her. She was one of the potential victims George had brought him some time ago. He’d rejected her because she wasn’t pliable enough. She had no idea of the danger she had been in so George had been supposed to turn her loose.
How long had he been doing this? How had Ragnar missed that he was doing this? And what was he going to do about it?
Cautiously he reached his mind up into the attic, the effort of doing it in daylight made his head scream in protest but he needed to be sure that he was right that she hadn’t seen him. He’d have to kill her if she had but if not she could help him cover his tracks and get her revenge at the same time.
She hadn’t and she had a plan to escape if she could get loose by attacking George as he came up the ladder. He gritted his teeth as pain exploded behind his eyes and reached up again nudging her to try tugging at her chains as hard as she could manage. As he’d suspected they came loose and she immediately crawled towards the still open hatch.
Ragnar swiftly turned his attention back to George, hauled him to his feet and pushed him at the ladder. Up!
George stared at him but did as he ordered. Ragnar in the meantime stepped into the shadows of the bathroom door to watch. George was halfway through the hatch when he gave a strangled scream, crashed back down to the landing floor and lay there, head twisted at an unnatural angle and dead glassy eyes staring in Ragnar’s direction. Surely dead but Ragnar risked yet more pain to touch his mind to check. There was nothing but the fizz that remained for a short while after the soul had fled.
A moment later the young woman appeared down the ladder, she kicked George in the ribs herself. Ragnar nudged her towards the mobile phone by George’s bed and sneaked downstairs, grabbed Anna who was still unconscious, dumped in the boot of his car because he couldn’t risk her coming around and attacking him while he was driving and drove off before the police arrived.