Hunted

Thirty-Four: In Fevered Anticipation

Bennett stepped into the windowless basement room, his sleeve clasped over his nose and mouth, trying to protect himself from the foul stench that clung to every inch of the house. There were two bodies discarded in the small confines of this room too. Bennett's top lip curled back in disgust as he recognised the infamous Peter Edwards, his body now even more deformed than it had been when he had left the island.

"So she got to you too," he hissed, shaking his head in disbelief. Edwards had been one of their most dangerous weapons, even though he didn't appear strong. It would have taken great strength to defeat him.

"Sir, the house is empty. Nicholls is dead".

Bennett paused, turning around to meet one of the altered, whom Elmhirst had requested to help in the hunt for Owens. Elmhirst had managed to borrow six powerful soldiers from prevalent patrons in order to capture Owens quickly and without fuss , though this mess definitely constituted fuss. Once on Nicholls' estate, these altered, skilled in tracking and hunting, had led him straight to the small prison-like room, sensing Owens had once been held here.

No better place for her, he snorted derisively to himself, though he was particularly irritated that she had managed to escape the room before their arrival.

"Dead?" Bennett hissed, striding out of the room and back along the basement corridor, considering the loss of Nicholls. It wasn't much of a loss, he decided quickly. Nicholls had been obnoxious and intense, with stilted social skills. He definitely would not be missed.

"Shot himself, by the looks of it," the altered replied with an indifferent tone, following Bennett from the basement.

"Where is he?" Bennett sighed, climbing into the kitchen where he recognised the remains of Melanie Hargreaves.

"Such a pity," he muttered passing her, recalling her swaying hips and pinched up little mouth from her time at Kingston. Death is such a waste sometimes, he sneered to himself.

"He was locked in a panic room," the altered continued, obviously oblivious to Bennett's musings, as the soldier overtook his superior. He led the way back into the hall, sidestepping another corpse of a Kingston alumni and climbed up the stairs, Bennett following in his footsteps.

Bennett gazed around the gaudy décor with a sharp distaste. Nicholls certainly had strange tastes. The black and red style was harsh and tacky, framing monstrously garish stained-glass windows. Bennett shook his head as they reached the landing, slightly impressed in how Nicholls had managed to build a house as creepy as himself.

They followed a long corridor into the depths of the house, until they came to a halt outside a thick metal door that had been cast open, allowing the decaying stench of Nicholls assault Bennett's senses.

"How did you get it open?" Bennett asked distractedly, stepping over the threshold and regarding the foul-smelling concrete box with a grimace.

"One of the men managed it with their alteration, sir," the altered replied diligently. Bennett nodded, glad to see some respect for authority left in these creatures. Those still on the island were devolving into brats, moody and petulant. Elmhirst would do better to scrap them all and begin again, he thought coldly examining the room.

Bennett glanced around, his lips curling back at the mess Nicholls had made. Apart from some supplies, basic living necessities and Nicholls' decomposing corpse, only a wall of mounted screens were worth noting. Bennett watched the soldiers on the monitors, as they aided the man-hunt, searching for the remains of the worst creation to emerge out of Kingston since its beginning.

You won't find her here, he thought grimly as he contemplated the screens.

"Can we rewind the tapes?" he asked, moving towards the screens. The altered who had accompanied him began to adjust some of the settings on a rather complicated looking control panel, sending the images dancing back through time. Bennett watched the screens carefully, pursing his lips as he tried to scan for something unusual.

"Wait stop," he ordered, leaning towards the screens as unknown figures came to life on the monitor. "Pause it," he breathed, scrunching up his face in anger as he located the prey he was hunting.

They certainly hadn't made any mistake. Charlotte had dwelt in the room with Edwards for quite some time, her stay apparently excruciating. That fact alone brought a smile to Bennett's face. Yet his mood soured once he recognised the person who had released the girl.

"Desmarais," he hissed, his face scrunching up in a scowl. "At least now I have reason to kill you too".

Thirty minutes later, Bennett emerged into the icy, fresh air, his phone pressed to his ear.

"Well, have you found her?" Elmhirst's voice hissed coldly through the ear piece. Bennett could sense the raw madness lurking beneath the surface of Elmhirst's tone. He wondered if he was seeing his visions again. If he was, it would mean Owens' punishment would be all the sweeter when he returned with her.

"No, she had already left by the time we reached the house," he sighed, knowing it wasn't what Elmhirst wanted to hear. As long as she was roaming free, their way of life was in jeopardy.

"Left? What do you mean she had left?" Elmhirst barked.

"Young Desmarais made it here first," he sighed. "About seventy-two hours ago".

There was silence on the other end of the phone, but Bennett waited, knowing better than to interrupt Elmhirst's train of thought. "Desmarais?" he hissed. "I bloody well knew it. Can you follow them?"

"We're already on it, sir," he replied happily. He would deserve a promotion after this. Chief-disciplinarian has a particularly nice sound to it, he grinned to himself. "We traced them to a hotel in the city and we are just about ready to leave. We have the best trackers the academy has produced, they won't be able to escape us".

There was another long silence, before the headmaster decided to speak again. "Good – I want her brought back alive. I want to make an example of her," he ordered, scarcely concealing his irritation. "Kill Desmarais and any others who have helped her".

"Yes, sir," Bennett replied with a growing excitement.

The phone cut off, as he turned around to glance one more at Nicholls' great manse, eerie and sombre against the dark night sky. No light illuminated the windows and no life stirred within its walls. It was to be Nicholls' mosoleum, his resting place, surrounded by the weird and wonderful things he had collected and lusted after his entire life.

Bennett grinned widely, as he climbed into the car awaiting him, thinking only of how Nicholls was deserving of his fate. Yet it was not the torment and pain that he endured that made him grin. It was Elmhirst's final orders echoing in his head that made him so ecstatically happy.

"Bring her back alive, kill the others," he repeated with a demonic grin, rubbing his hands together in fevered anticipation.

Thanks so much for reading Hunted! I really do appreciate the support! If you enjoyed this short chapter, please vote and leave a comment! Strange being inside Bennett's head!! XD Thanks again, everybody!!