ANOTHER BITE!

Another bite of Tartarus to keep you going until dinner...







She
drove her way back down towards The Cage, despite Sharon’s warnings. She
had to go down there. She had to check out this Jason Everett. Find out what he
knew. She put her library forms safely in her glove compartment and promised
herself that she would fill them out later. She gritted her teeth as she drove
downwards, passing their flat. That was if
she made it.



            She still had no idea about what had
happened last night. Swearing suddenly, she touched her neck. She had forgotten
to ask Sharon
for another amulet.



“Bollocks.” She probably should have turned back then and got it- or
even better- maybe she should have stayed there- but she carried on. She
absently locked her doors. It took her another fifteen minutes drive on a
continual downwards spiral before she could see the spires of The Cage.



            “Good,” she grumbled. Her head was
starting to feel dizzy. Parking it where Sharon
had parked her worn out beetle the other day, she took a deep breath. She
fancied a gin and tonic but guessed that maybe that wouldn’t be a good idea
right now. She needed to keep a clear head.



            “For Megan,” she said quietly to
herself. Her head touched the wheel as she said a silent prayer to no one in
particular. She shook herself and unlocked her doors. Her pole made a clinking
sound as she settled it roughly on the ground like a staff as she got out of
the van. It was much warmer down here than it was on Level One. She heard music
playing. What time was it? Was The Cage open all day every day? She figured
that it must be near six and locked up.



            Diane looked at the blackness
surrounding her. Everything seemed as though it was covered in a layer of
scuttling beetles, their backs glinting in the dim light. She shook her head,
feeling nauseous.



            “Concentrate,” she breathed as she
started to walk towards the club. She had to do this. It was for Megan. It was
all for Megan. There was no queue or bouncers at the door. She frowned as she
peered through the dark glass. It was too dark to see anything, but music could
be heard. She gave the door a push and swore when it wouldn’t budge.



            “Fuck.” She bashed her pole down
onto the ground in frustration, wishing to split the world in two at the
impact. Moving it away, she frowned at the crack that had formed beneath.
Ignoring it, she walked around the building, hoping to find a side door.



            It was a small alleyway, the floor
wet and being dripped on from overhanging rock. Bins were stacked down here
next to crates of empty bottles and other rubbish. She scowled when a great
droplet splashed on her head. She felt as though she had been shit on by a
stray bird and brushed her hand over her head just to check. It was probably
one of the most embarrassing things that could happen to you when you’re
walking about town- for a bird to crap on you- the oh shit reaction or how am I going to hide this without anyone
noticing, or there was tripping up in public. The embarrassed laugh that would
follow, wondering whether anyone would help you up, or if you should pretend
nothing had happened or should you stay on the ground, howling in pain so
people would take you seriously and stop laughing.



            What
a ridiculous thing to think of right now.



            The door was locked, and wooden. She
smiled. Old wood. She looked back up the alleyway and saw that she was out of
view. The padlock was small and simple. A few sharp strikes with the pole and
it gave way. The vibrations snapped their way up her arm and made her teeth
ring. The padlock was hot by the time she wrenched it off. She opened the door
with her foot, ready to strike. The room was dark.



            The blackness came over Diane in
choking waves. She hesitated and then forced herself to walk in. She closed the
door quietly behind her and allowed her eyes a few moments to get used to the
lack of light. It seemed like a kitchen, although she wondered who would ever
order cheesy chips from a Vampire club. She shrugged it off and walked through
to the other side. She made out the shape of a door. Holding her breath, she
reached for the handle and was relieved to find that it unlocked. Releasing her
breath, she opened the door, blinking furiously when light blinded her from the
other side.



            She paused and listened. Opening the
door a fraction more, she peeked out. There was no one around. She quickly made
her way out, shutting it behind her. She looked from left to right and found
herself in a dark concrete hallway. Lights blinked on and off above, making her
feel uneasy. An idle breeze crept its way over her skin, making her clench
teeth. She forced herself not to rub her arms. Every sense inside her screamed
to get out. But she couldn’t. The floor was wooden so she stepped lightly to
avoid noise, wanting to run instead of suffering the pathetically slow crawl.
She chose to go left and found herself at the top of some stairs. She strained
her eyes but still couldn’t see where they finished. It was a black space that
followed, empty and absorbing. She swallowed. Her ears started to prick. She
turned right and heard voices and froze. Blood seemed to congeal in her veins.
She hadn’t thought about what she would do if she was caught. How many could
she take on? The odds swung in and out of her mind while her instincts were
screaming, move move move! She
stepped back, considering complete retreat.



            “Fuck.” She stepped quickly
downstairs where it wasn’t lit, hoping that they would pass. She stopped
halfway, not wanting to go any further. The wood was cold and very slightly
damp. Her hands clenched the old stairs, dirt and soggy mulch from the wood
slithering under her fingernails, and concentrated on the voices. She wished
her heartbeat would quieten. There were two of them. Both male. If she was
found skulking, she would be in so much shit.



            Diane froze as they stopped at the
top of the stairs, dust spinning from the top and going into her face. She was
aware that she was in plain view and hunched her shoulders, licking the dust
from cracked lips. They were so immersed in their conversation, that they
didn’t even notice her.



            Fuck,
fuck, fuck, fuck! Moving lower down into the shadows, she hoped to dear God
that she was keeping quiet. Hoped that they would move away. She stepped
backwards into the shadows, and turned, searching for somewhere in the abyss to
hide. She searched blindly with her hands, and was glad when cold stone met her
fingertips and not a heap of metal to crash and make a racket. Pressing her
back against it, she shuffled along, just making out the shape of crates of
bottles. She felt sick as she heard the creaking of the stairs as they came
down, step by step.



She had hoped they would stay where they were.



She wondered if they knew she was there. Was that why they were coming
down? To search for her? She slid silently behind a crate and pulled herself
into the smallest shape she could, sliding the pole behind her in easy reach.
She wished that she was back in her apartment Upstairs, in her warm bed on a
Sunday morning with a box of Maltesers and with nothing to do- safe and warm in
her thick duvet. She felt grit slide its way into a cut in her hand, tiny
stones pressing against sore skin as she fought to keep her huddled shape
still.



For a while Diane heard nothing. She crunched her eyes shut, desperate
not to see when they switched the light on. She waited a while and opened her
eyes, glad for once to still be in cloying darkness. She leant forward quietly
and peered through a slit between two crates.



            Her eyes strained to make them out.
Two men.



            “It’s a bit early isn’t it to
prepare the stage?” she heard one say, the sudden sound of his voice obtrusive
in her sensitive eardrums.



            “Everett fancies a mess-around I suppose,” the
other said. Diane watched them walk to the other side of the room, still not
flicking on a light. She was grateful. But then one of them stopped and looked
around.



            “What’s up?”



            She could feel him narrow his eyes
at the spot she was hiding behind. Sweat started to prickle between her
shoulders, making it unbearably itchy. She slowed her breathing- tried to hold
her breath even.



            “I don’t know…” He took a step
towards her. “I just feel something’s…”



            Closing her eyes, she willed herself
invisible. She could hear him draw closer. She knew the tip of her boot was
sticking from beside the crate, but to draw it away would attract attention.
She forced her panicking muscles still, urged herself to listen to anything but
the soft moan of old wood beneath footfall.









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