This is my first story.
I suppose we can define the horror genre. Are certainly not a professional and I always have to be able to remedy the time to write in the midst of many other things, but I promise to always write my stories, so I would be very happy to read your opinions, both positive and negative. Your criticism
are my wages.
Thanks and happy reading.
Ah, I forgot, I'm not good at giving titles. "Saving" is the first title that I had the idea for the story.
If at the end of the reading you have another one to advise me, do it.
Saving
"We?"
"Yes, the house is."
Patrick took off his glasses and put them on the dashboard, then took his binoculars and began to inspect the property with his eyes. We developed all on one floor, the massive structure and gray like a box of shoes made in reverse. Climbing ivy adorned the north face, the one that looked toward the street as a mess of wrinkles on an old tired face.
Through the bars of the gate we could see only part of the facade, the front door and the middle of a dusty window. The main door was without any ornament, chipped and with an old rusty knob.
"The door does not seem solid. It should come down with ease. "Patrick said to his companion, his eyes still immersed in the binoculars.
"Why? Do you really want to go from there? "
" I had thought of an alternative plan, Lucas. "Patrick came back to put on his glasses and turned to look at the man beside him in the passenger seat. "I knocked on the door in front of them distracted, maybe I can get them both at the door. You will meanwhile sneaks back door of the nose and behind them. "
" No way. "
" Why? "
" Look, on the basis of what he said the old man held the girl in the bedroom, bound and gagged. One of the monitors and the other is sitting in the main room, just outside the front door. The back door instead of the kitchen, which is deserted. Now, tell me why we should try to attract their attention. Your distraction is useless. "
" You're sure of information that gave us the old man? "
" Absolutely. Why? Is there something you do not convince you? "
" Yes. To begin with I do not think that house the house of a rich man. You would live there in a place like that? "
" I have lived in worse places. "Lucas snorted, then sank a hand into his jacket pocket, in search of cigarettes. "And so did you."
"Yes, but this guy has a lot of money. Why live here? "
" Maybe just want a hole to stay away from journalists. "
" Journalists? "
" Sure. Do you think that the life of a rich and famous is so easy? It is full of stress, friend. All who seek you, all you know. I bet the daughter of the old drug party is always there. Type to those parties and business models where everyone drank champagne and snort cocaine on the mirror. I read something in a newspaper once. "
Patrick shook his head and went back to look at the house.
"It is the home of a wealthy man. You're talking a sea of \u200b\u200bbullshit. "
The house was newly built, but the carelessness made her look older. The garden surrounding the house had been left to grow in the wild, and without the care of a gardener was full of weeds. The upcoming winter had given the lawn a brown color, halfway between green and brown. It seemed ground just dirty.
the front door of a dirt path through the garden until you get to a black gate. The entire property was enclosed by a wall about five feet high, on which was planted another five feet of steel posts painted black. Behind the fence, a thick and high hedge could not see the inside of the property.
"It's a house for privacy." Said Lucas. He spoke slowly, as if trying to explain a mathematical equation to a cactus plant. "Around here there is nobody. The old man gave it to her daughter to keep her away from prying eyes. What the fuck did you expect, a pool filled with caviar and liveried butlers? Where the fuck are my cigarettes? "
" I fell on the mat. "Patrick leaned forward and took the red and white package that had been caught under the passenger seat. "Here, hold."
"Open the window." He added hastily adjusting his glasses on his nose. "Poisoning the air public."
Lucas chuckled and lowered his window a few inches. He pulled a cigarette from the pack all crooked and put it between his lips, then pressed the cigarette lighter. There was a click and the figure showing a smoking cigarette, lit up in red.
Patrick leaned on his glasses on the forehead and went back to peering through the binoculars.
"You do not have a bad feeling about this?" Asked Patrick after a few seconds of indecision.
"I do not even like me, if I have to tell you the truth. The garden is covered too, can hide anywhere. There may be dogs. I hate dogs. "
" The old man said that there are dogs. "
" They could have them brought to them. "Lucas said. "It certainly would be the Rottweiler, those beasts are evil like the devil. Have you ever looked in your eyes? They look like shark's dick, you never know what goes on in his head. However dogs are not even the main problem. That house looks like a damn bunker. Not there is a point where we can go without finding the open. Just a guy lurking in any garden with a shotgun and we're screwed. "
Patrick threw off his glasses and shook his head. "Shit!"
"Yes, more or less." Lucas commented bitterly.
"Do you have killed?" Asked point-blank the other.
Lucas took a few seconds of reflection. He scratched his beard with the listless air, the unlit cigarette hanging from his lower lip was up and down, as if to nod.
"I think it's still alive." Lucas said, contradicting his cigarette. "I hope so, anyway. They demanded the ransom then it is likely that keep alive for her to talk with the old, or it may become suspicious and decide not to give him anything. But if you want the truth, I do not think that is faring well. "
" Well. Always good news. Thanks partner. "There was a click
el'accendisigari spurted upward. Lucas took it and walked over the hot part at the tip of the cigarette.
Patrick slipped right into the back of his trousers and pulled out a revolver. He opened the drum and closed it immediately. He waved the gun in his hand, as if the weight of the revolver was able to calm her anxieties.
"You say that is the case of hurry?" Asked Patrick.
"Hurry? No, I do not think. Not kill her. At best, rape or cut away some pieces. None of our business. "
" Shit, the old man incazzerĂ ! "
" The old man asked us to bring it back alive, not to avoid that if someone uses or face to pieces. "
" Why do you put it down so hard ?
Lucas granted a long drag on his cigarette and exhaled smoke from his nostrils. Underneath the sunglasses, her eyes were fixed on the gate of the house.
"You know, it bothers me. It bothers me that. "He gestured with his hand in front of him, toward their objective, the thread of smoke from the tip of the cigarette designs traced in the air. "What we are going to do. I do not like a bit '. "
" I do not understand. It's a job, nothing more. And, for once, a job that will earn a lot. "
" Yes, of course, you're right. But think about it: the old man has a lot of money, right? It is a famous one that counts. Factories, society, politics. I mean, would not be a problem for him to pay a ransom, right? And he does instead? Takes two like us to leave that bitch's spoiled daughter. Do not you think a mistake? "
" Well, maybe does not like to give in to blackmail. "Objected Patrick. "It would be a sign of weakness."
"weakness." Lucas He repeated softly, as if it were a disagreeable word. "Well, then it should be here with us, right? You see, by chance? Not me. There is not he here to do the dirty work. He paid two to do it, did not come in person. He's done nothing but give the money to us instead of giving it to them, to those who kidnapped her. Do you think this is a show of force? "Patrick
we thought for a moment:" No, it is not. "
" And you know what is the thing that gives me the most trouble? "Continued Lucas. "Is that the end of this work someone will die. Either we, or them. And maybe those who hold it in there did not want to do is make some money at the expense of an old rich man, shell out a million and go on vacation for life on a tropical island. But will end up below ground. Or maybe we'll end there, because this would be even worse. In short, someone will die today, right? And all this could easily be avoided. The old pay, is separated by one, only one, of his many valuable million and no risk of dying. You know, I think those who are inside the house, those who eventually killed. And we will end up strength, so I have no intention to kill me, so let's assume that we're the ones that come out. "
Patrick nodded vigorously in that scenario.
"Behold, I think of them." Lucas said. "You can not die this way, just because a stingy old does not want to give him change. "He thought a moment about what he had just said. "We will enter, we will kill those guys and we'll have a little 'money to do them. That's how it goes. But, behold, when pull the trigger, I will think for a moment. I'll watch the guy I'm going to make it out and think: "Shit, this guy could be me." Do you understand me? We like them. We have a lot more in common with them than with the old man and his daughter. "
Patrick was speechless. He watched his comrade in the back seat. He wanted to look into his eyes to see if he was saying seriously, but the look of Lucas was still concealed by the sunglasses. It still was not at all looking at him, looked straight ahead, eyes fixed on the gate of the house.
Patrick leaned back in his seat, his back began to hurt him. He put his hands on the wheel.
"Like them, eh?" Asked Patrick.
Lucas shrugged. "Yes, more or less."
"Okay, you convinced me." Patrick said again. "Let's wait a while '. Soon the darkness falls. And in the meantime, maybe these guys will give that bitch a lesson in Kama Sutra. "
Lucas smiled. "Ah, yes those that may be us!"
Patrick stood with his back to the car door. He spoke in the phone, was trying to calm the old man. Lucas while playing with a rifle cartridge that had pulled out of the drawer of the passenger. He studied the form, fascinated by the reflections on the browning of the bottom of the cartridge case and the bright red plastic. So small, so perfect.
"will act soon." He heard growling Patrick in the cell. "I told you we had some complications." Even from inside the car, Lucas could hear the voice of the old Patrick took out from the speaker that attached to your ear. He seemed really pissed off. "Listen, you should not continue to cry out, these are problems that we could not predict. Among few minutes we're in and you can talk to his daughter. That's enough! "
was the first time that Patrick felt so angry. She could not help but smile.
"Fuck!" Patrick closed the communication.
He sat down in the driving seat and Lucas tried to stop smiling. He succeeded only in part.
"The old man is pissed." Patrick said. "It's a bit 'I am too. Lucas did we go wrong, did not have to wait so long! "
The other was finally able to swallow that smile, he continued to fix the cartridge. He kept it in front of him between the thumb and forefinger, like a surgeon who studies a sharp scalpel.
"He's calm." He said to his companion. "Soon we go in, do not panic. Are you ready? "
" Yes "
No." Lucas put his sunglasses on the dashboard and his companion stared straight at me. "Are you ready?" He repeated.
Patrick stared at him for a few seconds. He swallowed hard.
"Yes. I'm ready. "
Lucas went down with the car and left open the passenger door. He went to the trunk, opened it and stopped a second to admire his shotgun. It was an "overlay" a shotgun with the barrels placed one on top. Unlike the classic shotgun, the weapon is not moved when fired from the side, but only upwards, making the recoil easier to control. It was smooth-bore gun, fired a shot that nailed pink anything he had the displeasure of finding themselves on the wrong side of the barrel.
He returned to the passenger seat and began to drive out of the drawer for rifle cartridges. Flicked the lever of the gun and slipped two cartridges into the combustion chambers, then began to fill their pockets with more ammo he had brought with him.
"You did?" Asked Patrick approached the passenger seat.
"Yes," said Lucas. "Just a moment."
bent down and flicked a lever, then pushed on his heels and the seat moved back. He lifted the mat, revealing a long hunting knife, held in place by three strips of black tape. He released the gun and stepped out closing the door behind him. Secured the lining of the knife on your belt and exhaled air his lungs, resting the barrel of the shotgun to his right shoulder. Patrick held his revolver tucked in his pants and clutching a crowbar and a bat carpenter short and heavy.
'ready for war. "Lucas declared to his companion and the world.
They both laughed, then walked toward the trees to their left, leaving behind Patrick's car.
The house was straight in front of the hood of their cars, just shifted to the right, but based on advice from the old data did not have to climb the big groped and heavy black gate. They must simply point to the east, and enter from the right side of the property. It would not even have to say "open sesame".
walked for about fifty yards into the wood, grinding underfoot some dry leaf that had anticipated the Fall. They walked in silence, before that Lucas led the way with his rifle and Patrick back with tools in hand. The night would be dropped shortly thereafter, and the brown trunk of the trees created a dark location, such as solid walls of a maze. Then Lucas raised his right hand and stopped immediately imitated by Patrick.
"We." Lucas said. "Now we have to turn right."
resumed their march, with the brown tips of the shotgun wink to their destination, like a compass. For about ten minutes they could not see anything but the dense vegetation and the night that fell in front of their eyes. There was no trace of the house.
Patrick looked around constantly and occasionally ask for an explanation to his friend.
"We should already be there. Are you sure you turned at the right time? Maybe we passed. "
continued to complain until Lucas threatened to shoot him in the legs and let him die there in the damn woods away from the world. Patrick protested for another couple of minutes, but this time in a low voice. Then, finally, the clear outline of the house he was met by Lucas and his partner felt the air we breathe heavily his lungs, like a laundry ball.
They were about twenty feet from the wall that was the right side of the property. The blacks were firmly planted poles of gray brick and crowned with pale and dark green of the hedge.
The apparent solidity of the brick wall was in fact easily breakable. There was a weak point in the structure, a portion of the wall of a meter and a half was pulled up in a more recent time. He was about ten feet from the right corner of the wall that now they faced. Before there was a gap there, an access point that was once a small wrought iron gate, which was the second and last visit to the cottage. For some reason unspecified, about a month before the old man had removed the gate and had to fill space with bricks. The builders had done a good job, it was difficult to see that that part of the wall had been built in more recent times.
At that point the wall was much thinner, about one third of the thickness compared to the rest of the fence.
Lucas hid behind the trunk of a tree and raised his rifle in front of him, resting his shoulder. Then he scored on Patrick to move forward. The terms were clear: Patrick would have used the sledgehammer to open a hole in the wall and Lucas would have covered with the shotgun.
Patrick did not like that part of the plan at all, but Lucas had told her that if she did not trust him, he could also go fuck yourself.
the end, the other had given way, as he always did, to his proposal. The truth is that Lucas, in contrast to what he had said shortly before Patrick, did not trust the word of the old at all. He did not know why, but could not get out of my mind the image of a large black dog that was waiting for them other side of the wall. In his mind, he could almost hear him growling and drooling, waiting to transform the two newcomers in his evening meal.
He noticed that he began to sweat and wiped the sleeve of his jacket over his face. Patrick had reached the wall and had turned to look at him, her knees on the ground, his facial features are distorted by the tension of the moment. Patrick
enveloped the club head in a carpenter's cloth. This would have certainly made their foray perfectly silent, but would certainly cushioned the blows of the stick against the wall. Lucas breathed deeply, with the rifle resting comfortably in the shoulder. Patrick began to break through wall, with smooth strokes and less powerful. A
Lucas remembered what he had said about the dogs. If the dog scratching black felt on the other side had proved a real threat, his companion was dead. Lucas was an excellent shooter, a hunter phenomenal, but he had no doubt about it: before it was able to nail down the animal, Patrick would have ended up with half his face like an old wet sheet of paper that hung from his chin. The sudden image of the disfigured face of Patrick crossed his mind and made him shudder. The Rottweiler in his head continued to growl.
Finally a big part of the wall gave way and fell into the garden. Lucas shook convulsively the gun, but no black dog came out from the opening to tear his companion, who stuck his head in the hole for a look. He turned and nodded to him. Lucas imposed behind her to relax. He was with his gun so hard that my palms with a long white line in the center. There was no Rottweiler.
Patrick finished his work and the low growl in the ears of Lucas vanished altogether. When he saw Patrick achievement indicators, strong snorted through the lips and returned to firmly tighten the gun. Now came the hard part.
reached his companion walked quickly toward the wall, with knees bent and chest towards the ground. Patrick stepped aside and put the bat on the ground as a carpenter. Grab the crowbar in his left hand and pulled out the revolver from his pants.
Lucas crawled into the opening, with the shotgun pointed straight ahead. His throat was parched and my arms ached. He went completely the other side of the wall and spread to the right. He rested on one knee and began to sift through the semi-darkness of the garden with the barrel of the shotgun. It all seemed quiet.
watched the back door leading to the kitchen and the one next to a dusty window. On the other side of the glass, a curtain could not see the inside of the house, from which emanated a light too weak to pass through the heavy cloth at the window. Lucas stood with erect ears and nerves, but none came to hand to offset the curtain at the window and the door opened an inch. They'd made it, had managed to enter without being seen.
He started slightly when he saw appear to the left of a human figure who held a revolver, then recognized the face of Patrick. His companion did the same, pointed his revolver in front of him and looked around, then nodded and walked towards another door side by side, leaving between them a space of three meters. If anyone is out the door with a gun, he could only hit one of those two. In the time it would take to move the arm and pointing a firearm at another, his brain would have decorated the garden of the property. Lucas hoped to be what they could get away. Not only because of the instinctive selfishness that required him to save his own skin, but also because he was pretty sure that put pressure on his partner would have missed the shot and would have found both stone dead. Patrick had a target of shit and Lucas mental note to try to resolve the armed conflict before the other could be effected. He was willing to die, get shot in the ass by his trusted companion was not a possibility he could accept.
Lucas Patrick walked to the window and went straight to the door. The window was closed and there was no way to force without breaking the glass. Might as well break the door.
Between the two there was a nod and Patrick slipped his revolver in his pants and clip the crowbar in a corner of the goal, relying on the jamb. Lucas stood beside him and raised his rifle in front of him, aiming at chest height. Once inside they would have had about three seconds before the occupants of the house they realized what was happening. The brace took only two shots, but Lucas did not expect to have to use more. In a closed environment like the inside and close the villa could trust blindly in the dispersive fire his weapon. It had already happened to use that kind of gun in a narrow and had discovered that in such a situation, aim was optional. Two shots of a weapon like that emptied a corridor than ten shots.
Patrick grabbed the handle of the tool with both hands and stared at his companion. Lucas nodded and the other threw himself pushing back on his heels. There was a snapping sound and the door swung open. Patrick, without the support of the door now wide open, he fell backward and landed awkwardly on her back Lucas took a step forward. Then he stood motionless.
"What the hell ..."
blinked his eyes and almost the gun fell from his hands. He realized after a few seconds that he had to speak.
"It is not possible." Patrick whispered while getting up quickly and pulled out his revolver. "What do you mean?"
I do not know. "
" Do you realize that it has no meaning? "
" fucking shut up! "
Lucas scratched his goatee, undecided what to do. He took courage and took a few steps forward to see better.
"It is impossible." He could only say.
looked through the door and saw the wall. Only the wall. There was nothing else. The interior of the house did not exist, the frame of door had been simply nailed to the wall of the house.
Lucas raised his hand in front of him and touched the wall that had suddenly materialized behind the door. He remembered those old cartoons, the ones with the coyotes and the owls. The coyote had once painted the mouth of a fake tunnel on the wall of a mountain and there was the ostrich came in as if it were real. For a moment he feared that contact with the brick wall beyond the door could be transported to another dimension.
"window." He said quickly, shaking off his torpor.
crashed through the glass with the butt of the rifle, they forgot all taken care before for not making too much noise. The glass fell to pieces and Lucas ripped off the tent. A bright light struck him and was forced to cover their eyes with one hand. Even through the window, there was only a wall with a big light bulb in the middle. It was the light they had seen seeping through the curtain.
A rustle in the grass behind them.
"Who's there?" Lucas spun around, raising his rifle in front of him. Nothing but shadows. "Come out." He heard Patrick
moan with fear beside him. He clutched the revolver in his hand and continue to focus now to the right, now left, slapping the air.
"Come on, Lucas." He said softly. "Please."
Lucas wanted to break every single window and break through the front door of the house. As in a dream induced by drugs, a corner of his mind was sure that behind one of them would have finally found the inside of the house. He was sick.
"Yes, let's go."
walked quickly toward the hole that had opened in the wall, completely forgetting everything that had decided before going there. The plans were skipped, it was time to wake up from nightmare, kicking off the covers and sweat wash my face in the sink. It was time to stop.
He heard a noise to his left and went off like lightning. He fired and the recoil of the shotgun's beat on the shoulder. He did not hit anything. He clenched his teeth in anger. It was his idea to wait for the night and now that the decision was backfiring.
'Quiet Pat, there was nothing to hit there. I did not panic. "He turned to his companion. "Patrick?"
disappeared.
The terror that had remained under the skin began to bite the scalp. He felt a chill behind his back and moaned in terror. Took a few steps in the garden, with the rifle in his hands trembled.
"Patrick?" He called again.
That bastard had gone through the hole left behind and receiving. Where was the wall? He could not see it, the dense bush prevented him from seeing the contours of the fence. Around him there was nothing but darkness and awareness of blacks heavy posts planted on the wall of the property made him feel caged. Perhaps he had better get in a corner and wait for the sunlight.
put his hand to his pocket and took out a cartridge, then azionò the lever and opened the barrel of the shotgun.
At that moment a shadow jumped out of the ground and jumped meeting and felt something cold shake his throat. He lost his gun and his mind was shattered. The ears could hear a low growl in the distance. The Rottweiler in his head, he thought, had torn the chain and it was released, it had become real and he was tearing his throat.
He put both hands around his neck. They were the teeth of a Rottweiler, were human fingers. They were lean and thin, but at the same time contained an unnatural strength, like a steel wire made of bone and flesh. As he struggled for his life, he seemed to see a human face transfigured with rage. But there was something other than anger. It was the fear of a hunted animal, a lion fighting for his life. He could not understand.
suddenly overwhelmed by events did not have the presence of mind that would allow him to reverse the situation. He tried to kick off her attacker, but it was crushed other body could not find something on which to leverage with your foot. His shoes slipped a few times along the body of the attacker, falling each time on the damp soil. Being on top of him he managed to slip between his legs. They seemed locked in a violent sex which did not allow Lucas to the possibility of release. He just kicked the air in panic, digging small holes in the garden of the villa.
put a hand on the face of his attacker and felt hot and sticky sweat down the temples of the other. In darkness, while his left hand trying to twist his fingers shook his throat with his right hand sought his eyes. Strike eye was an outrageous, but often could save your life. Instead he found his mouth and when the teeth of the other closed on his hand screamed in pain. The
be upon him growled, with his hand still wedged between her teeth. He moved his head left and right, like a dog playing with a rag doll. He was trying to detach the finger biting. Lucas was screaming, the world around him began to spin. He tried to hit the face of the left, but his punches were too weak and tired. Was shooting blanks.
His right forearm is flooded in the blood that's coming out of the hand. The other did not seem to have the slightest intention of letting him go. Her teeth were moving Lucas in the flesh, scraping the bones of the little finger and ring. The horror of the sudden contact between the bones of her fingers and teeth of the other filled him with a profound nausea, but died in the throat.
His left hand fell on the grass and closed his eyes Lucas. It was over.
Patrick stared with his mouth wide open.
Lucas blinked several times and was able to see more clearly. Patrick was on a kind of steel table and was staring at him.
He tried to call him, but his throat was dry. It hurt my head.
He put a hand to his forehead, but something stopped him. His hands were tied behind his back. The right the pain throbbed and felt stiff. He tried to move and had to refrain from the URL of pain. The blood that was lost had dried on the skin. He seemed to get his hands dirty with ash.
became perfectly lucid and was able to see the girl. It was turned back and brought a kind of long black cloth that covered her body completely. Hair blacks were encrusted with dirt and feet wearing sneakers split in several places and muddy. The girl was bending over the body of Patrick, enclosed in a fetal position, was lying on its side and looked in his direction. It was certainly dead.
Lucas looked up and saw a trap door above him. He was locked up in a cellar. The walls were concrete and the whole room was lit by a single light bulb placed above the table on which lay Patrick.
Lucas shivered in a corner looking at a next row of red meat hook from the blood. The third was attached to the leg of a man. Look
forces save him less, but a sudden noise shook him. A telephone was ringing. The girl moved away from the table and walked over to one side of the room. Lucas was able to better see the body of Patrick. It was wrong, had not been put into the fetal position. The head was detached from the body and arms to shoulder height sawn, stacked on each other captured property as the clap from a photograph. The bust, however, was leaning on the back and there was only one leg attached. The other was on the hook.
"Yes, Dad, have arrived." Heard in a dark corner that he could not light the lamp. "Yes, just in time. No, I had no problems, there were two idiots. You were right, Dad. Will doubt not more. Thanks, you too. "
The girl was returned to the cone of light drawn from the bulb, then stopped and turned to look at Lucas, who was motionless on the floor staring at the gaping mouth magic of his companion.
With great difficulty, Lucas looked up at his face, but the head of the girl found herself at bulb hanging from the ceiling and all I could see was a tangle of hair blacks and two eyes that scrutinized.
from the chin of the girl who crashed a drop fell to the ground, like a tear. It was red.
"Thanks." She said. "You came to save me." He drew back a bit 'light and gave Lucas a smile red with blood. "I was starving."
The girl giggled and turned toward the body of Patrick. Lucas was the sound of a saw surgical scraping on the femur of his friend.
Attach the hooks, dazed. Patrick would end up there. And there would be over too.
Those hooks were not always empty, there was been someone before them. Perhaps someone who had been lured there under false pretenses, just like them. Maybe at the beginning, something like a thousand years earlier, someone had really tried to kidnap the girl and ended up one of those hooks. Or maybe it was just a story that the old trimmed at all, before sending them to save his daughter. All turned into unwitting victims of a cannibal appetite.
As he had said during the afternoon?
"Those may be us."
The girl turned toward him.
"What did you say?"
Something in the brain of Lucas broke and the man laughed.
"Yes, the house is."
Patrick took off his glasses and put them on the dashboard, then took his binoculars and began to inspect the property with his eyes. We developed all on one floor, the massive structure and gray like a box of shoes made in reverse. Climbing ivy adorned the north face, the one that looked toward the street as a mess of wrinkles on an old tired face.
Through the bars of the gate we could see only part of the facade, the front door and the middle of a dusty window. The main door was without any ornament, chipped and with an old rusty knob.
"The door does not seem solid. It should come down with ease. "Patrick said to his companion, his eyes still immersed in the binoculars.
"Why? Do you really want to go from there? "
" I had thought of an alternative plan, Lucas. "Patrick came back to put on his glasses and turned to look at the man beside him in the passenger seat. "I knocked on the door in front of them distracted, maybe I can get them both at the door. You will meanwhile sneaks back door of the nose and behind them. "
" No way. "
" Why? "
" Look, on the basis of what he said the old man held the girl in the bedroom, bound and gagged. One of the monitors and the other is sitting in the main room, just outside the front door. The back door instead of the kitchen, which is deserted. Now, tell me why we should try to attract their attention. Your distraction is useless. "
" You're sure of information that gave us the old man? "
" Absolutely. Why? Is there something you do not convince you? "
" Yes. To begin with I do not think that house the house of a rich man. You would live there in a place like that? "
" I have lived in worse places. "Lucas snorted, then sank a hand into his jacket pocket, in search of cigarettes. "And so did you."
"Yes, but this guy has a lot of money. Why live here? "
" Maybe just want a hole to stay away from journalists. "
" Journalists? "
" Sure. Do you think that the life of a rich and famous is so easy? It is full of stress, friend. All who seek you, all you know. I bet the daughter of the old drug party is always there. Type to those parties and business models where everyone drank champagne and snort cocaine on the mirror. I read something in a newspaper once. "
Patrick shook his head and went back to look at the house.
"It is the home of a wealthy man. You're talking a sea of \u200b\u200bbullshit. "
The house was newly built, but the carelessness made her look older. The garden surrounding the house had been left to grow in the wild, and without the care of a gardener was full of weeds. The upcoming winter had given the lawn a brown color, halfway between green and brown. It seemed ground just dirty.
the front door of a dirt path through the garden until you get to a black gate. The entire property was enclosed by a wall about five feet high, on which was planted another five feet of steel posts painted black. Behind the fence, a thick and high hedge could not see the inside of the property.
"It's a house for privacy." Said Lucas. He spoke slowly, as if trying to explain a mathematical equation to a cactus plant. "Around here there is nobody. The old man gave it to her daughter to keep her away from prying eyes. What the fuck did you expect, a pool filled with caviar and liveried butlers? Where the fuck are my cigarettes? "
" I fell on the mat. "Patrick leaned forward and took the red and white package that had been caught under the passenger seat. "Here, hold."
"Open the window." He added hastily adjusting his glasses on his nose. "Poisoning the air public."
Lucas chuckled and lowered his window a few inches. He pulled a cigarette from the pack all crooked and put it between his lips, then pressed the cigarette lighter. There was a click and the figure showing a smoking cigarette, lit up in red.
Patrick leaned on his glasses on the forehead and went back to peering through the binoculars.
"You do not have a bad feeling about this?" Asked Patrick after a few seconds of indecision.
"I do not even like me, if I have to tell you the truth. The garden is covered too, can hide anywhere. There may be dogs. I hate dogs. "
" The old man said that there are dogs. "
" They could have them brought to them. "Lucas said. "It certainly would be the Rottweiler, those beasts are evil like the devil. Have you ever looked in your eyes? They look like shark's dick, you never know what goes on in his head. However dogs are not even the main problem. That house looks like a damn bunker. Not there is a point where we can go without finding the open. Just a guy lurking in any garden with a shotgun and we're screwed. "
Patrick threw off his glasses and shook his head. "Shit!"
"Yes, more or less." Lucas commented bitterly.
"Do you have killed?" Asked point-blank the other.
Lucas took a few seconds of reflection. He scratched his beard with the listless air, the unlit cigarette hanging from his lower lip was up and down, as if to nod.
"I think it's still alive." Lucas said, contradicting his cigarette. "I hope so, anyway. They demanded the ransom then it is likely that keep alive for her to talk with the old, or it may become suspicious and decide not to give him anything. But if you want the truth, I do not think that is faring well. "
" Well. Always good news. Thanks partner. "There was a click
el'accendisigari spurted upward. Lucas took it and walked over the hot part at the tip of the cigarette.
Patrick slipped right into the back of his trousers and pulled out a revolver. He opened the drum and closed it immediately. He waved the gun in his hand, as if the weight of the revolver was able to calm her anxieties.
"You say that is the case of hurry?" Asked Patrick.
"Hurry? No, I do not think. Not kill her. At best, rape or cut away some pieces. None of our business. "
" Shit, the old man incazzerĂ ! "
" The old man asked us to bring it back alive, not to avoid that if someone uses or face to pieces. "
" Why do you put it down so hard ?
Lucas granted a long drag on his cigarette and exhaled smoke from his nostrils. Underneath the sunglasses, her eyes were fixed on the gate of the house.
"You know, it bothers me. It bothers me that. "He gestured with his hand in front of him, toward their objective, the thread of smoke from the tip of the cigarette designs traced in the air. "What we are going to do. I do not like a bit '. "
" I do not understand. It's a job, nothing more. And, for once, a job that will earn a lot. "
" Yes, of course, you're right. But think about it: the old man has a lot of money, right? It is a famous one that counts. Factories, society, politics. I mean, would not be a problem for him to pay a ransom, right? And he does instead? Takes two like us to leave that bitch's spoiled daughter. Do not you think a mistake? "
" Well, maybe does not like to give in to blackmail. "Objected Patrick. "It would be a sign of weakness."
"weakness." Lucas He repeated softly, as if it were a disagreeable word. "Well, then it should be here with us, right? You see, by chance? Not me. There is not he here to do the dirty work. He paid two to do it, did not come in person. He's done nothing but give the money to us instead of giving it to them, to those who kidnapped her. Do you think this is a show of force? "Patrick
we thought for a moment:" No, it is not. "
" And you know what is the thing that gives me the most trouble? "Continued Lucas. "Is that the end of this work someone will die. Either we, or them. And maybe those who hold it in there did not want to do is make some money at the expense of an old rich man, shell out a million and go on vacation for life on a tropical island. But will end up below ground. Or maybe we'll end there, because this would be even worse. In short, someone will die today, right? And all this could easily be avoided. The old pay, is separated by one, only one, of his many valuable million and no risk of dying. You know, I think those who are inside the house, those who eventually killed. And we will end up strength, so I have no intention to kill me, so let's assume that we're the ones that come out. "
Patrick nodded vigorously in that scenario.
"Behold, I think of them." Lucas said. "You can not die this way, just because a stingy old does not want to give him change. "He thought a moment about what he had just said. "We will enter, we will kill those guys and we'll have a little 'money to do them. That's how it goes. But, behold, when pull the trigger, I will think for a moment. I'll watch the guy I'm going to make it out and think: "Shit, this guy could be me." Do you understand me? We like them. We have a lot more in common with them than with the old man and his daughter. "
Patrick was speechless. He watched his comrade in the back seat. He wanted to look into his eyes to see if he was saying seriously, but the look of Lucas was still concealed by the sunglasses. It still was not at all looking at him, looked straight ahead, eyes fixed on the gate of the house.
Patrick leaned back in his seat, his back began to hurt him. He put his hands on the wheel.
"Like them, eh?" Asked Patrick.
Lucas shrugged. "Yes, more or less."
"Okay, you convinced me." Patrick said again. "Let's wait a while '. Soon the darkness falls. And in the meantime, maybe these guys will give that bitch a lesson in Kama Sutra. "
Lucas smiled. "Ah, yes those that may be us!"
Patrick stood with his back to the car door. He spoke in the phone, was trying to calm the old man. Lucas while playing with a rifle cartridge that had pulled out of the drawer of the passenger. He studied the form, fascinated by the reflections on the browning of the bottom of the cartridge case and the bright red plastic. So small, so perfect.
"will act soon." He heard growling Patrick in the cell. "I told you we had some complications." Even from inside the car, Lucas could hear the voice of the old Patrick took out from the speaker that attached to your ear. He seemed really pissed off. "Listen, you should not continue to cry out, these are problems that we could not predict. Among few minutes we're in and you can talk to his daughter. That's enough! "
was the first time that Patrick felt so angry. She could not help but smile.
"Fuck!" Patrick closed the communication.
He sat down in the driving seat and Lucas tried to stop smiling. He succeeded only in part.
"The old man is pissed." Patrick said. "It's a bit 'I am too. Lucas did we go wrong, did not have to wait so long! "
The other was finally able to swallow that smile, he continued to fix the cartridge. He kept it in front of him between the thumb and forefinger, like a surgeon who studies a sharp scalpel.
"He's calm." He said to his companion. "Soon we go in, do not panic. Are you ready? "
" Yes "
No." Lucas put his sunglasses on the dashboard and his companion stared straight at me. "Are you ready?" He repeated.
Patrick stared at him for a few seconds. He swallowed hard.
"Yes. I'm ready. "
Lucas went down with the car and left open the passenger door. He went to the trunk, opened it and stopped a second to admire his shotgun. It was an "overlay" a shotgun with the barrels placed one on top. Unlike the classic shotgun, the weapon is not moved when fired from the side, but only upwards, making the recoil easier to control. It was smooth-bore gun, fired a shot that nailed pink anything he had the displeasure of finding themselves on the wrong side of the barrel.
He returned to the passenger seat and began to drive out of the drawer for rifle cartridges. Flicked the lever of the gun and slipped two cartridges into the combustion chambers, then began to fill their pockets with more ammo he had brought with him.
"You did?" Asked Patrick approached the passenger seat.
"Yes," said Lucas. "Just a moment."
bent down and flicked a lever, then pushed on his heels and the seat moved back. He lifted the mat, revealing a long hunting knife, held in place by three strips of black tape. He released the gun and stepped out closing the door behind him. Secured the lining of the knife on your belt and exhaled air his lungs, resting the barrel of the shotgun to his right shoulder. Patrick held his revolver tucked in his pants and clutching a crowbar and a bat carpenter short and heavy.
'ready for war. "Lucas declared to his companion and the world.
They both laughed, then walked toward the trees to their left, leaving behind Patrick's car.
The house was straight in front of the hood of their cars, just shifted to the right, but based on advice from the old data did not have to climb the big groped and heavy black gate. They must simply point to the east, and enter from the right side of the property. It would not even have to say "open sesame".
walked for about fifty yards into the wood, grinding underfoot some dry leaf that had anticipated the Fall. They walked in silence, before that Lucas led the way with his rifle and Patrick back with tools in hand. The night would be dropped shortly thereafter, and the brown trunk of the trees created a dark location, such as solid walls of a maze. Then Lucas raised his right hand and stopped immediately imitated by Patrick.
"We." Lucas said. "Now we have to turn right."
resumed their march, with the brown tips of the shotgun wink to their destination, like a compass. For about ten minutes they could not see anything but the dense vegetation and the night that fell in front of their eyes. There was no trace of the house.
Patrick looked around constantly and occasionally ask for an explanation to his friend.
"We should already be there. Are you sure you turned at the right time? Maybe we passed. "
continued to complain until Lucas threatened to shoot him in the legs and let him die there in the damn woods away from the world. Patrick protested for another couple of minutes, but this time in a low voice. Then, finally, the clear outline of the house he was met by Lucas and his partner felt the air we breathe heavily his lungs, like a laundry ball.
They were about twenty feet from the wall that was the right side of the property. The blacks were firmly planted poles of gray brick and crowned with pale and dark green of the hedge.
The apparent solidity of the brick wall was in fact easily breakable. There was a weak point in the structure, a portion of the wall of a meter and a half was pulled up in a more recent time. He was about ten feet from the right corner of the wall that now they faced. Before there was a gap there, an access point that was once a small wrought iron gate, which was the second and last visit to the cottage. For some reason unspecified, about a month before the old man had removed the gate and had to fill space with bricks. The builders had done a good job, it was difficult to see that that part of the wall had been built in more recent times.
At that point the wall was much thinner, about one third of the thickness compared to the rest of the fence.
Lucas hid behind the trunk of a tree and raised his rifle in front of him, resting his shoulder. Then he scored on Patrick to move forward. The terms were clear: Patrick would have used the sledgehammer to open a hole in the wall and Lucas would have covered with the shotgun.
Patrick did not like that part of the plan at all, but Lucas had told her that if she did not trust him, he could also go fuck yourself.
the end, the other had given way, as he always did, to his proposal. The truth is that Lucas, in contrast to what he had said shortly before Patrick, did not trust the word of the old at all. He did not know why, but could not get out of my mind the image of a large black dog that was waiting for them other side of the wall. In his mind, he could almost hear him growling and drooling, waiting to transform the two newcomers in his evening meal.
He noticed that he began to sweat and wiped the sleeve of his jacket over his face. Patrick had reached the wall and had turned to look at him, her knees on the ground, his facial features are distorted by the tension of the moment. Patrick
enveloped the club head in a carpenter's cloth. This would have certainly made their foray perfectly silent, but would certainly cushioned the blows of the stick against the wall. Lucas breathed deeply, with the rifle resting comfortably in the shoulder. Patrick began to break through wall, with smooth strokes and less powerful. A
Lucas remembered what he had said about the dogs. If the dog scratching black felt on the other side had proved a real threat, his companion was dead. Lucas was an excellent shooter, a hunter phenomenal, but he had no doubt about it: before it was able to nail down the animal, Patrick would have ended up with half his face like an old wet sheet of paper that hung from his chin. The sudden image of the disfigured face of Patrick crossed his mind and made him shudder. The Rottweiler in his head continued to growl.
Finally a big part of the wall gave way and fell into the garden. Lucas shook convulsively the gun, but no black dog came out from the opening to tear his companion, who stuck his head in the hole for a look. He turned and nodded to him. Lucas imposed behind her to relax. He was with his gun so hard that my palms with a long white line in the center. There was no Rottweiler.
Patrick finished his work and the low growl in the ears of Lucas vanished altogether. When he saw Patrick achievement indicators, strong snorted through the lips and returned to firmly tighten the gun. Now came the hard part.
reached his companion walked quickly toward the wall, with knees bent and chest towards the ground. Patrick stepped aside and put the bat on the ground as a carpenter. Grab the crowbar in his left hand and pulled out the revolver from his pants.
Lucas crawled into the opening, with the shotgun pointed straight ahead. His throat was parched and my arms ached. He went completely the other side of the wall and spread to the right. He rested on one knee and began to sift through the semi-darkness of the garden with the barrel of the shotgun. It all seemed quiet.
watched the back door leading to the kitchen and the one next to a dusty window. On the other side of the glass, a curtain could not see the inside of the house, from which emanated a light too weak to pass through the heavy cloth at the window. Lucas stood with erect ears and nerves, but none came to hand to offset the curtain at the window and the door opened an inch. They'd made it, had managed to enter without being seen.
He started slightly when he saw appear to the left of a human figure who held a revolver, then recognized the face of Patrick. His companion did the same, pointed his revolver in front of him and looked around, then nodded and walked towards another door side by side, leaving between them a space of three meters. If anyone is out the door with a gun, he could only hit one of those two. In the time it would take to move the arm and pointing a firearm at another, his brain would have decorated the garden of the property. Lucas hoped to be what they could get away. Not only because of the instinctive selfishness that required him to save his own skin, but also because he was pretty sure that put pressure on his partner would have missed the shot and would have found both stone dead. Patrick had a target of shit and Lucas mental note to try to resolve the armed conflict before the other could be effected. He was willing to die, get shot in the ass by his trusted companion was not a possibility he could accept.
Lucas Patrick walked to the window and went straight to the door. The window was closed and there was no way to force without breaking the glass. Might as well break the door.
Between the two there was a nod and Patrick slipped his revolver in his pants and clip the crowbar in a corner of the goal, relying on the jamb. Lucas stood beside him and raised his rifle in front of him, aiming at chest height. Once inside they would have had about three seconds before the occupants of the house they realized what was happening. The brace took only two shots, but Lucas did not expect to have to use more. In a closed environment like the inside and close the villa could trust blindly in the dispersive fire his weapon. It had already happened to use that kind of gun in a narrow and had discovered that in such a situation, aim was optional. Two shots of a weapon like that emptied a corridor than ten shots.
Patrick grabbed the handle of the tool with both hands and stared at his companion. Lucas nodded and the other threw himself pushing back on his heels. There was a snapping sound and the door swung open. Patrick, without the support of the door now wide open, he fell backward and landed awkwardly on her back Lucas took a step forward. Then he stood motionless.
"What the hell ..."
blinked his eyes and almost the gun fell from his hands. He realized after a few seconds that he had to speak.
"It is not possible." Patrick whispered while getting up quickly and pulled out his revolver. "What do you mean?"
I do not know. "
" Do you realize that it has no meaning? "
" fucking shut up! "
Lucas scratched his goatee, undecided what to do. He took courage and took a few steps forward to see better.
"It is impossible." He could only say.
looked through the door and saw the wall. Only the wall. There was nothing else. The interior of the house did not exist, the frame of door had been simply nailed to the wall of the house.
Lucas raised his hand in front of him and touched the wall that had suddenly materialized behind the door. He remembered those old cartoons, the ones with the coyotes and the owls. The coyote had once painted the mouth of a fake tunnel on the wall of a mountain and there was the ostrich came in as if it were real. For a moment he feared that contact with the brick wall beyond the door could be transported to another dimension.
"window." He said quickly, shaking off his torpor.
crashed through the glass with the butt of the rifle, they forgot all taken care before for not making too much noise. The glass fell to pieces and Lucas ripped off the tent. A bright light struck him and was forced to cover their eyes with one hand. Even through the window, there was only a wall with a big light bulb in the middle. It was the light they had seen seeping through the curtain.
A rustle in the grass behind them.
"Who's there?" Lucas spun around, raising his rifle in front of him. Nothing but shadows. "Come out." He heard Patrick
moan with fear beside him. He clutched the revolver in his hand and continue to focus now to the right, now left, slapping the air.
"Come on, Lucas." He said softly. "Please."
Lucas wanted to break every single window and break through the front door of the house. As in a dream induced by drugs, a corner of his mind was sure that behind one of them would have finally found the inside of the house. He was sick.
"Yes, let's go."
walked quickly toward the hole that had opened in the wall, completely forgetting everything that had decided before going there. The plans were skipped, it was time to wake up from nightmare, kicking off the covers and sweat wash my face in the sink. It was time to stop.
He heard a noise to his left and went off like lightning. He fired and the recoil of the shotgun's beat on the shoulder. He did not hit anything. He clenched his teeth in anger. It was his idea to wait for the night and now that the decision was backfiring.
'Quiet Pat, there was nothing to hit there. I did not panic. "He turned to his companion. "Patrick?"
disappeared.
The terror that had remained under the skin began to bite the scalp. He felt a chill behind his back and moaned in terror. Took a few steps in the garden, with the rifle in his hands trembled.
"Patrick?" He called again.
That bastard had gone through the hole left behind and receiving. Where was the wall? He could not see it, the dense bush prevented him from seeing the contours of the fence. Around him there was nothing but darkness and awareness of blacks heavy posts planted on the wall of the property made him feel caged. Perhaps he had better get in a corner and wait for the sunlight.
put his hand to his pocket and took out a cartridge, then azionò the lever and opened the barrel of the shotgun.
At that moment a shadow jumped out of the ground and jumped meeting and felt something cold shake his throat. He lost his gun and his mind was shattered. The ears could hear a low growl in the distance. The Rottweiler in his head, he thought, had torn the chain and it was released, it had become real and he was tearing his throat.
He put both hands around his neck. They were the teeth of a Rottweiler, were human fingers. They were lean and thin, but at the same time contained an unnatural strength, like a steel wire made of bone and flesh. As he struggled for his life, he seemed to see a human face transfigured with rage. But there was something other than anger. It was the fear of a hunted animal, a lion fighting for his life. He could not understand.
suddenly overwhelmed by events did not have the presence of mind that would allow him to reverse the situation. He tried to kick off her attacker, but it was crushed other body could not find something on which to leverage with your foot. His shoes slipped a few times along the body of the attacker, falling each time on the damp soil. Being on top of him he managed to slip between his legs. They seemed locked in a violent sex which did not allow Lucas to the possibility of release. He just kicked the air in panic, digging small holes in the garden of the villa.
put a hand on the face of his attacker and felt hot and sticky sweat down the temples of the other. In darkness, while his left hand trying to twist his fingers shook his throat with his right hand sought his eyes. Strike eye was an outrageous, but often could save your life. Instead he found his mouth and when the teeth of the other closed on his hand screamed in pain. The
be upon him growled, with his hand still wedged between her teeth. He moved his head left and right, like a dog playing with a rag doll. He was trying to detach the finger biting. Lucas was screaming, the world around him began to spin. He tried to hit the face of the left, but his punches were too weak and tired. Was shooting blanks.
His right forearm is flooded in the blood that's coming out of the hand. The other did not seem to have the slightest intention of letting him go. Her teeth were moving Lucas in the flesh, scraping the bones of the little finger and ring. The horror of the sudden contact between the bones of her fingers and teeth of the other filled him with a profound nausea, but died in the throat.
His left hand fell on the grass and closed his eyes Lucas. It was over.
Patrick stared with his mouth wide open.
Lucas blinked several times and was able to see more clearly. Patrick was on a kind of steel table and was staring at him.
He tried to call him, but his throat was dry. It hurt my head.
He put a hand to his forehead, but something stopped him. His hands were tied behind his back. The right the pain throbbed and felt stiff. He tried to move and had to refrain from the URL of pain. The blood that was lost had dried on the skin. He seemed to get his hands dirty with ash.
became perfectly lucid and was able to see the girl. It was turned back and brought a kind of long black cloth that covered her body completely. Hair blacks were encrusted with dirt and feet wearing sneakers split in several places and muddy. The girl was bending over the body of Patrick, enclosed in a fetal position, was lying on its side and looked in his direction. It was certainly dead.
Lucas looked up and saw a trap door above him. He was locked up in a cellar. The walls were concrete and the whole room was lit by a single light bulb placed above the table on which lay Patrick.
Lucas shivered in a corner looking at a next row of red meat hook from the blood. The third was attached to the leg of a man. Look
forces save him less, but a sudden noise shook him. A telephone was ringing. The girl moved away from the table and walked over to one side of the room. Lucas was able to better see the body of Patrick. It was wrong, had not been put into the fetal position. The head was detached from the body and arms to shoulder height sawn, stacked on each other captured property as the clap from a photograph. The bust, however, was leaning on the back and there was only one leg attached. The other was on the hook.
"Yes, Dad, have arrived." Heard in a dark corner that he could not light the lamp. "Yes, just in time. No, I had no problems, there were two idiots. You were right, Dad. Will doubt not more. Thanks, you too. "
The girl was returned to the cone of light drawn from the bulb, then stopped and turned to look at Lucas, who was motionless on the floor staring at the gaping mouth magic of his companion.
With great difficulty, Lucas looked up at his face, but the head of the girl found herself at bulb hanging from the ceiling and all I could see was a tangle of hair blacks and two eyes that scrutinized.
from the chin of the girl who crashed a drop fell to the ground, like a tear. It was red.
"Thanks." She said. "You came to save me." He drew back a bit 'light and gave Lucas a smile red with blood. "I was starving."
The girl giggled and turned toward the body of Patrick. Lucas was the sound of a saw surgical scraping on the femur of his friend.
Attach the hooks, dazed. Patrick would end up there. And there would be over too.
Those hooks were not always empty, there was been someone before them. Perhaps someone who had been lured there under false pretenses, just like them. Maybe at the beginning, something like a thousand years earlier, someone had really tried to kidnap the girl and ended up one of those hooks. Or maybe it was just a story that the old trimmed at all, before sending them to save his daughter. All turned into unwitting victims of a cannibal appetite.
As he had said during the afternoon?
"Those may be us."
The girl turned toward him.
"What did you say?"
Something in the brain of Lucas broke and the man laughed.
END
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