Page 2 of G.O.D.S Omnibus

A wave of nausea washes over me like a tidal wave. Sweat breaks out on my forehead. I try to blink through the fuzziness that clouds my vision as panic sets in. I have felt this feeling once before, and the memory sends bile to the back of my throat. It’s the one that haunts me in my nightmares. I might not be afraid of much, but losing all my senses at once makes me weak. Hands grip my waist, and I try to scream, but it feels like my throat is coated in sand. I know this isn’t Trace; he was there to save me the first time something like this happened. He would knock me out with his fist before inflicting this feeling on me.

My limbs flop by my side as I’m carried out of the café. The sound of the bell above the door is the last sound that I register before everything goes black.

Chapter Two

Jolie

Drip, drip, drip.

“Go away, it’s Saturday,” I say, throwing my arm over my face.

Drip, drip, drip.

“Ugh,” I groan.

I must have passed out in the shower again. This happens frequently when I stay awake for days at a time, and all because handsy foster brothers liked to touch what they shouldn’t. I go to wipe the splash of water from my face, except my brain registers that the liquid is too thick to be water. My stomach lurches at the overwhelming smell of iron, my eyes flying open as the foggy memory of the café resurfaces.

“Fucking fuck,” I whisper to myself.

The room is pitch black. I try blinking a few times to get my eyes to adjust. Which is a waste of time, as the lights start to flicker on and off, giving me a view of my surroundings. I’m notthe only person here, and the others seem to be waking up just as confused as I am. My instincts kick in, and I look around for exits, not finding any. Panic flares as I scan the room again.

One solid metal roller door is pulled shut—but it might be unlocked. There is a massive hole in the ceiling, which is no help.

Sweat gathers on my forehead, spreading chills over my body at the sight of three corpses hanging from the roof, a steady flow of blood dripping from each of their fingers before falling into a puddle on the concrete floor. Two older women must look up and see the bodies hanging, because a blood-curdling scream leaves one of them. I’m certain she also wets herself, based on my glimpse of a spreading stain on her pants. The other five people in the room are men; two look to be around my age, and all five are banging relentlessly on the metal door, one trying to find a way to open it. I guess it is locked after all.

Speakers come to life at a deafening level. Covering my ears, I look up, hoping to find the source of the noise.

I scream, the sound is so loud my ear drums threaten to explode, not that anyone can hear my voice over the music and the singer screaming the lyrics. I should try to run, even move, except I’m frozen to the spot, my body shutting down. The reality of what is happening has started to kick in.

The sound of metal against metal has most of the people in the room in a panic as their screams penetrate the air. While I would love to join them, moving isn’t happening as a freeze response takes over.I was only kidding about being killed by a serial killer. I’m only Eighteen! Surely my time isn’t up yet. Right now, I wish I hadn’t been so quick to believe it was Trace coming back for me.

The sound seems to be the door sliding up. A few of the bigger men run out and when nothing happens after they disappear through the door, everyone else follows. In my frozen state, large beads of sweat gather and roll down my forehead.Mentally chastising myself that I’m a badass and not the girl that sits around waiting to be killed, I try to pull myself together. Having been put through hell over the last few years, this situation does not take the cake as the winner of the most fucked-up shit I have had to endure.

I’m not sure at what point my fight-or-flight response kicks in, but when a rope falls to the floor, I gain back some of my body’s natural reactions. My head snaps up, and as soon as it does, I wish I was still frozen. The sight before me is as scary as it is intriguing. Five black figures are looking down through the hole in the roof. Faces concealed, they each wear a metallic skull mask with the illusion of different coloured flames dancing within the eye sockets. In a different place and time, I would be mesmerised. Now I’m hoping I don’t shit myself because I’m down to my last outfit.

One shadow is crouched down, their head kinked to the side, watching me, waiting to see what I plan to do. The green on their mask is both haunting and alluring.

The song starts over, but this time it’s been altered and every few words “run” is shouted overtop of the lyrics. Flight finally kicks in. I stand and take a step back. Hearing a whimper, I look down. A naked girl no older than me is cradling her frail body, shaking like a leaf.

“Shit,” I mutter, looking up to see the figures have dropped more ropes, getting ready to descend.

“Can you walk?” I ask, and she nods.

I remove the baggy shirt from my body, an old black sports bra now the only thing covering my chest. The poor girl pulls my shirt over her head. It doesn’t cover all that much, but it beats being naked. Holding out a hand to help her up, I hear a thud. Boots hit the concrete floor, and a shiver runs down my spine.

The girl screams, and my body wastes no time propelling me towards the door. I pull the girl behind me, not needing to look back to know they are now following us, laughing.

I fight the urge to glance over my shoulder. Whoever they are will need to catch me if they want to take me out.

“Run, run, as fast as you can!” a male voice shouts.

“I ain’t no fucking gingerbread man!” I shout back, slapping my free hand over my mouth. Brennan, my social worker, said one day my mouth will get me into serious trouble. Looks like he was right. I hope I make it out of here alive so I can hear him say I told you so.

We run into what looks to be bushland, and the trees and shrubs bite into my skin, tearing flesh off my arms as I bash through. The girl clutches tightly onto my hand, whimpering every so often. I can only imagine the pain she is feeling being barefoot and running through terrain like this.

Leaves crunch and twigs snap behind us, and I want to stop and face these people; but as much as I joke about death, surely something better has to come along for me before that happens.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little bitch, somebody’s gonna find your body in a ditch.”

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