It was the first project of which Trish had been in charge. The Consortium was bidding for the Lorne Park site to be used for luxury apartments and on Monday morning Trish would meet the contractors and surveyors at the site to decide if they could convert the old building or if they needed to demolish and build from scratch.
She had collected the keys from the agent on Friday afternoon and now, on Saturday morning, she could not resist the chance to go to the site alone and do a tour so that when the meeting happened on Monday everyone would be impressed by how well she knew the project. That was why she was here with her shiny black Audi idling behind her as she unlocked the huge rusty padlock on the high iron gates. The thick chain fell away noisily and Trish returned to her car and purred up the winding drive. There was grass growing up through the tarmac and trees and greenery were intruding into the drive. When the building came into view it was like the setting for a horror film. To make things worse heavy dark clouds hung overhead and the feeling of neglect and decay was deepened by the tangled mass of out of control vegetation which seemed to be creeping up the front steps like a monster which was gradually dragging the place back to complete jungle.
The building itself was two storeys with windows set into the sloping roof showing that there were rooms in the attics. The chimneys were tall and one of them had collapsed. The whole thing was grim Victorian red brick. It had been built as a reformatory for girls and then later it had been a girl's boarding school which had been shut down after some trouble. The details were unclear.
As Trish locked her car and slowly walked to the oak front door she wondered what had run through the minds of those unfortunate Victorian girls who had been brought here. Being set in its own grounds the place was completely isolated from the outside world and the thought came into Trish's mind that any indignity and horror could have been imposed on the inmates of this place and no-one outside would ever know.
The front door key was huge and made of black iron like the key to an old church and it took some effort to turn the key in the long disused lock. Trish deliberately left the door open as she slowly made her way into the musty smelling entrance hall and a pigeon flapped somewhere overhead disturbed at the sound of the door being opened. Of course the electricity had been cut off long ago but daylight came into the place through the tall, dirty windows.
In the course of her work Trish had been into many abandoned buildings but in this one she had to make a concentrated effort to think like a professional instead of a frightened little girl. She had crossed the entrance hall now and passed through a wide doorway under heavy wood carving into another high and wide space. Perhaps this had been a dining room or an assembly hall. The floor was dusty bare boards and the windows were all at first floor level. It had been Trish's intention to make a detailed study of the place with a view to deciding whether to favour conversion or demolition but she was disappointed in herself that she had already, intuitively, formed the very strong impression that this place was evil and must be totally destroyed.
By this time she was in the centre of the large space and suddenly the whole building was filled with the sound of a huge crash like a cannon shot which caused Trish's heart to stop for a second. However as the squawking of the birds died down she told herself that the wind had caught the front door which she had left open and blown it shut. Just as she was recovering her breath she heard a door slam somewhere else nearby then what could only be male footsteps very close to her.
Now she was uneasy and verging on scared and she called out asking if anyone was there. She was slowly turning around trying to locate the sounds although now all was silent again. Then she caught a movement out of the corner of one eye and she spun in that direction but saw nothing. Completely without warning Trish felt something hot clamp over her mouth and nose and she was gasping for air but it was being denied her. She saw only the huge empty room but something invisible was covering her face and dragging her backwards so that she lost her balance and ended up on her back still struggling to breathe as she thrashed her arms around uselessly. Things were beginning to go dark as she came near to the end of her oxygen then she felt four distinct fingers pressing into her left breast and suddenly she could breathe again. She looked down and actually saw four small indents on her breast but no sign of whatever it was which was pressing into her.
She screamed and tried to squirm free but she could not move. She exerted her muscles but her body did not obey and all the terrified woman could do was to watch as her blouse burst open to reveal her brief white bra. Something dragged the blouse down her arms so that it was clear of the front of her body and she felt something rough brush her breasts as her bra was ripped from her to hang by one strap from her right shoulder.
Trish was becoming hysterical and she was thumping her feet on the floorboards and thrashing about with her legs as she had a distinct feeling of hot breath in her ears and she heard a loud rasping panting. Now a hand pressed into her left breast as another tore open the front of her jeans leaving the belt still buckled around her waist. She was writhing helplessly as her jeans were dragged down to around her knees so that she was hobbled and she desperately tried to fight her unseen attacker.
She cried out as she felt sharp pain just below her left nipple and she watched in fascinated horror as an angry red bite mark appeared at the spot just before her pink cotton briefs moved of their own accord down to join her jeans at her knees. She could move her arms now but she was beating at empty air as her legs were violently jerked upwards and something dragged her jeans and underwear off her feet and flung the mass of inside out clothing a full four feet from her. The floorboards were rough against her buttocks and she found that she could not close her legs; some force was in between her knees forcing her legs wide apart.
More phantom bite marks began to cover her breasts, belly and her neck and her mind became full of the word "Vampire". The force between her knees had now moved upwards and her whole body was being forced down against the floorboards.
Whatever the evidence of her eyes Trish now knew that she was being attacked by some entity and she channelled her fear into anger as she swore at it and commanded it to let her go but she froze when the large weight which held her body down was joined by a much smaller and more focussed weight pressing into the soft feminine flesh between her thighs.
"Don't you f..ing dare to rape me you pervert. Get away from here right now."
Her shout was cut off as she experienced a repeat of that mass pressing into her face once again cutting off her air at the same time as the invader at her pussylips began to force inwards causing her back to arch and her legs to splay obscenely wide. As the helpless woman fought for air she felt her intimate channel being forced wide open by something with a terrifyingly huge length and girth. Her back and buttocks were writhing and collecting splinters from the floorboards and she found that the weight was no longer across her face and she was able to scream in absolute terror. The anger was gone now to be replaced by mindless terror as she heard herself begging to be left alone.
Her hips were bucking and her whole body was slick with her sweat as she felt the invader moving within her intimate parts. Just on the edge of hearing was the suggestion of a voice in a harsh whisper but it was not words which she heard so much as a sort of chattering much as might be made by a pack of hyenas as they devoured their prey.
All her nerve endings were firing at 200% and every muscle was tensing and untensing. Trish was incapable of speech but the whole building seemed to be echoing with her orgiastic shouts and moans. She knew that if this lasted for just another minute her head would explode and she would never recover but it did continue so it seemed that for an eternity she hung on the edge between ultimate pleasure and total destruction. It was as if she were floating in a place outside of the known universe where the laws of physics were suspended or irrelevant.
Suddenly she was hit by an all-enveloping stillness; it was so still that she was sure this was death. Gradually the real world began to seep back in the way that the sea slowly sweeps away the sand barriers built by children on the shore. Once again she was aware of her own body as she lay there with her arms outstretched and her hands palm upwards. Her legs were bent at the knee so that anyone looking down at her would have seen her legs in a diamond shape with her black pubic hair dripping with her shining juices and her thighs wide open. Her neck was bent backwards so that she could see an upside down view of the wall behind her and she could not move a muscle. She was aware of every muscle aching and was certain that the slightest movement would cause agony. All she could do was to lie there aware of her heart pumping and her breasts rising and falling. She was very cold. Trish had no idea of how long she lay there but eventually she began to make tiny movements. She moved her legs very carefully because when she began to move she felt a crippling ache deep within her belly like the very worst period cramps which anyone could imagine. She found that she could move her arms and her body and then the tears came and she could not stop sobbing. Trish was weeping at the effects of her violation but, underneath that, there was a totally irrational sense of loss for the spectral lover who had so brought her body alive and then just left her alone. She felt abandoned as one feels when dumped by a very special lover; just for a moment she had something indescribable and now it was gone and all she had was the pain and the sore, bloody bite marks on her flesh.
It was much later when she made herself begin to pull herself together and try to gather up her clothing and she discovered to her horror that her brassiere and knickers had been viciously shredded. It was not simply that they had been torn from her body but the garments had been reduced to a few narrow strips of fabric unrecognisable as clothing. The really frightening thing was that Trish had no memory of this happening; she recalled being stripped and taken but at some point the attacker had deliberately destroyed her underwear and if she had forgotten this detail what else might he have done of which she had no memory? While she was slowly and painfully pulling on her jeans she noticed her small gold wristwatch a few feet away on the floor; the narrow gold wristband had been pulled apart as if it were paper by someone obviously very strong and in a fit of frenzied violence. This was something else of which Trish had no memory.
Her blouse was virtually useless and she had to do the best she could to hold it closed as she made her way out of the building to her car. While she was driving the garment flapped open revealing her naked, scarred breasts and she was grateful for the car's smoked glass windows. She had to make a mad dash for the door of her flat and, once inside, she discarded the remains of her clothing and ran a hot foamy bath. The violated young woman still felt tearful as she soaked in the bath and then she became aware of the voice.
It seemed to be in her head rather than her ears and it was very faint but it sounded like wire wool rubbing across sandpaper as it spoke slowly and deliberately.
"We shall play again."