The Creep (30 page)

"I know you want to talk," Bishman whispered in Wendy's ear as she went down on him. "But we've got to carry on exactly the same as we did last night, until I know Leo's asleep. A
ll these places have two-way mirr
ors. Leo told me himself. We carry on like last night and talk later." Bishman stared at her coldly.

"But it's
m
ur
..."

"I know what it is, that's why we talk later. Let's get fucking, right now!" With that and a big laugh, he rolled right over on top of Wendy and gave her one.

After some heavy-duty sex they dove in the waterfall-shower and freshened up. By the time
they finished, Leo's cave was deathly silent. Bishman pulled some furs together on the huge circular bed and the four of them sat around pow-wow style smoking a joint. Their state of consciousness was enhanced because of the vibrating bed. Little Peter was as high as a kite already, and the others were kind of mellow.

"Can I talk now?" asked Wendy. "I'll be ever so quiet, it's real important and I'm frightened, but I'm sure you'll know what to do."

"Yeah
...
I might at that."

"You asked me to get you the videos that Leo made; well, I couldn't get them. I found them, but I couldn't get them out of the room without getting caught so I watched a few of them in Leo's study while he was showing you around the courtyard and zoo. They're terrible. Everyone gets murdered. We're all going to die." She was crying before she finished. Little Peter was strung out. Debbie looked serious.

"I saw them as well, fuckin' bad news if you ask me," joined in Peter. "I fucked two of the guys - one was Walsh, I can't remember the other guy's name. I fucked them in the wind tunnel the first night they came but they never chose me to make a film with them. I'm fuckin' glad they didn't, now that I've seen everyone getting cut up and blown to pieces with shotguns. It's fuckin' sickening. I never knew Leo was such a bastard."

"I fucked 'em as well," said Wendy. "They were both vicious, like animals. Where the fuck does Leo get these monsters from?"

"Yeah,
snuff movies, that's
what he's up to. I half suspected. We're in Shit Street, fucking boogaloo to that."

"What?" asked
Wendy.
She pulled her bathrobe over tightly, shivering with fear.

"Yeah, boogaloo."

"All I know is we gotta get outta here. It's only a matter of time before someone chooses us to make a film with them, then we all get blown away! Shit!" said Debbie.

Bishman had already chosen Debbie and Wendy to make a film on the Sunday morning but he wasn't too keen on making a film right now, so he kept shtumm.

"Bob, what ideas ya got?" Debbie went on; "This place is like a fucking fortress. I've never thought of escaping. Up until yesterday I quite liked the joint, but I've been here long enough to know we can't escape easily. Not only that, we are on a fuckin' island and Leo's got fifty guards."

"Maybe.
But I know how to create mayhem."

"What?"

"Never mind, tell me more about the films - you know, the videos, how do people get blown away, who did it?"

"It was just all good fucking around to start with, you know, like we've been doing." Wendy looked at Bishman and then across to Debbie.

"Yeah, then what?"

"Well, suddenly, towards the end, after a lot of fucking and sucking, Walsh got hold of a
huge knife from somewhere and started slashing with it. Anyone, everyone, it was awful. He kept looking up at the camera as though someone was cheering him on," said Debbie.

"Was Leo on the video?"

"No, Leo wasn't on any of the videos we saw, was he, Deb?"

"None, the bastard.
I suppose he must have been behind the camera."

"So what happened next?"

"After Walsh had literally massacred both girls and the two little boys, he looked up at the cameras and screamed. It was sickening."

"Why, what was Walsh screaming at?"

"I don't know," replied Wendy, "but the next thing his head was blown clean off with a shotgun. You see it in vivid detail - in slow motion as well. It was sickening. There was nothing left, just his neck and sinew with blood spewing out,
then
the video ended. It was fucking awful, Bob. Awful!"

"Tell me about the other videos," Bishman said, cold as ice.

Wendy glanced at Bishman, who was getting a hard-on, and she knew it.

"They were all the same, awful, every one of them starts the same, just with romping about, plain sex,
a
lot of fun and at the end everyone was killed. Bob, these are not paint games, these are people getting killed for real. I've seen it, I knew those kids who got slashed. That's why none of them ever come back to the slave den once they've made a film - 'cause they're fuckin' dead, that's why."

"You got that right. I knew there was a payback time." Bishman lit a smoke and threw one across to Wendy, who reached over for a light and said, "What's payback time?"

"Leo picked me up, coming out of Manhattan on Friday afternoon. He's been treating me great ever since, like a long-lost brother. I knew there had to be a payback. But I've got news for him. He doesn't know me
...
yeah, boogaloo." The evil and coldness in Bishman's death eyes filled the room, making everyone more scared than they already were.

"Whadda we do now?" asked Wendy.

"Well, for a start you can get
your
laughing gear around this. After that I'll let you know." Bishman lay back on the furs, thinking,
gobble
'til ya wobble,
as Wendy halfheartedly went down on him. After a while Debbie eased her out the way and went at the job with lots more enthusiasm, bobbing her
head
up and down like a jack rabbit, stopping every few minutes to say, "You gotta get us outta here, Bob. We're counting on you, this guy's a fuckin' maniac, he'll get us all killed."

Wendy took over again and finished him off. He liked coming in Wendy's mouth, for some reason.

"This is the plan. We sleep for two hours. I'll wak
e you up. Mind you, when I say '
get up' for fuck's sake get up. Don't fuck me around, I'll create a diversion. You two girls get everyone out, just the slaves. Fuck everyone else, it's everyone for
themselves
. I'm not stopping for anyone. This place won't know what's hit it.
Remember you're on an island, every which way you go will have boats. Get yourself a boat and paddle like fuck. Don't wait around for anything -
these guys play for keeps.
Boogaloo."
He put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it off the last one.
"
Don't trust anyone - all these motherfuckers are in this together. Once the diversion starts, scram."

"How will we know when the diversion has started?" Wendy asked.

"Yeah, you'll know it, trust me, Boogaloo." He bugged his eyes out at them. "Goodnight. You've got two hours, then
it's
mayhem time. Sweet dreams."

He looked at little Peter snoring and gently kissed Wendy goodnight. Debbie's eyes were closed but Bishman wasn't sure if she was really asleep. Before long though, all the sex slaves were. They looked rather angelic.
Bishman couldn't keep his eyes from Debbie's huge tits, covered with freckles, and that huge bush of red pubes, so he jerked off and came all over
her face.
There wasn't too much jism left, but enough to trickle down her nose and chin.

Bishman set his internal biological clock for an alarm call in two hours and then started to visualize mayhem. He saw flames, guns, bodies, muck and bullets. A semi-plan started to come together. As it did, he fell asleep.

Harvey was listening to the Bishman tapes repetitively. Far more times than was necessary to make sensible scripts out of the disjointed and often disturbing revelations.

He started to have nightmares of his own and he wasn't enjoying his mind much, either. Something had to be done, and done soon. Dangerous beings have to be neutralized!

Another time, another place, another session.
Bishman's eyes swept with violence before he stepped into the regression, as though he'd never been away. Harvey was relieved, he'd listened to enough rantings and ravings to last a lifetime and wasn't sure how much more he could take. He looked inwardly at his own state of mind and breathed an exasperated sigh:
How much more of this bad shit can I take?

Bishman woke up on the dot, five o'clock, ready for mayhem and aggro like you w
ouldn't believe humanly possible
. He was vicious and he was ready for action. God help anyone who was going to get in his way.

He woke the three sex slaves. They showered under the waterfall together, but didn't even talk and were
somber
as they put their dressing-gowns on. Bishman sat them down.

"I need twelve minutes. This is what's going to happen next, and you gotta move on this.
I'm going down to my room to get changed into my street clothes. You kids do the
same,
you can get back to your slave quarters and get fixed up, right?" They nodded in agreement.

"You'll need heavy clothes - it'll be fucking freezing out there in the fog. When you hear the diversion, all run out in different directions, but make sure you go through the portcullis and straight out the main gate, then run any way you like to the shore to get a boat. Tell the other sex slaves exactly what to do. No messing now
...
I'm outta here!
Boogaloo."
He bugged his ice-blue eyes at them and was gone. They were scared.

Bishman crept over to the cave that Leo had gone into with the six young boys. He took with him a heavy boulder. He slipped into the cave.
Shit!
They've all flown the nest in the middle of the night
. Bishman coolly walked out and headed to the elevator and went to the ground floor. As soon as he was there he quickly ran up the first flight of stairs and jumped into his clothes.

He ran back down the stairs, straight down into the armory. His adrenalin was pumping and he was moving incredibly quickly, his movements were precision. He loaded himself up with an armful of firearms, a World War Two bayonet and a shoulder bag full of grenades. He knew
exactly
the kind of mayhem he had in mind.

He carefully put his heavy pile of weapons in the corner of the courtyard.
A mini-arsenal
! Although he was in a hurry, he had a tremendous respect for them - a professional
regard,
and
he
was keen to see how they performed in the field.

The time was 5:30 and the
fog hung low. It made everything look spooky and it was bone-chilling. Not a soul in sight, but Bishman
knew
the guards were around, he could
sense
them, and he was raring to go. He went into the motorcycle museum and slashed about twenty gas pipes with the bayonet. The smell of gasoline was overpowering. He then deliberately went over to the Brough Superior and flicked on the starter switch. He started running, and as he went he clicked another hundred switches. He was working to a time-frame. He knew the first machine would fire up in three minutes.

As an afterthought Bishman finally threw the master switch that would fire up all of the five thousand motorcycles.

Bishman snuck back in the castle and hit the organ button, first turning the volume up loud. Just as he was doing so, one of the guards appeared. Bishman caught him by surprise and let him have it with the Uzi. However, only one bullet came out when he squeezed the trigger: luckily it went between the guard's eyes. He switched the Uzi over from 'S', which was semi, to 'F', which was fully automatic. He had thirty-one 9mm bullets left.

The full-size organ started to belt out
Prelude and Fugue on the Name of B-A-C-H
by Franz Liszt - loud enough to shake the foundations of the castle. It was frightening. Bishman made sure no-one could shut it
off,
he smashed the switch with the butt of the guard's AK-47.