Flesh Factory: An Extreme Horror Novel by Sam West Page A

the corner of her vision. It took a moment for her to realise that the swirling blackness wasn’t the after-effects of being strangled, but the shapes were in the room.
    She spun round, trying to look directly at the swirling darkness, but she never quite managed to see it properly, it always danced just on the edge of her vision.
    “Are you seeing things, my dear?”
    Of course. She was on drugs, she’d forgotten that all-important fact for the briefest of seconds. As soon as Mick had posed the question, the swirling blackness intensified. Now she could look at it directly. It was like smoke, except it was the densest black. Her head tilted backwards when the almost-smoke curled upwards and engulfed the chandelier. As it touched it, the chandelier seemed to bend with the darkness. The light in the room flickered and dimmed, throwing shadows over the white walls and doors.
    Hope flinched in a fresh rush of fear. Some of those shadows looked like people. No, not people. Demons.
    The shapes crawled over the walls, as if seeking an entry into the room.
    “Don’t let them get in the room,” Hope said, grabbing hold of the sleeve of Mick’s expensive grey suit, forgetting for a moment that he was the enemy. “If they find a way in, they will kill us.”
    She didn’t know how she knew this, she just knew it to be true. Those shadows, those things were from the other side. From Hell . And once they crossed over, they wouldn’t ever go back.
    “Tell me, what do you see?”
    “I see… darkness. Darkness and shadows and devils.”
    Mick laughed loudly, like she had just told a really good joke. “And you will be seeing a lot more of that in the days to follow. Come, we have one more room to visit before you may eat, drink, and rest.”
    The shadows grew more frantic around her and she closed her eyes, still clutching the sleeve of his suit. “No, you don’t understand, they want to hurt us…”
    “And you, my dear, are tripping. It will make what you are about to do all the more exciting. Come, he’s waiting for you.”
    Ever so gently, like he cared for her and hadn’t tried to strangle her a few seconds ago, he prised her fingers off his sleeve and cupped her under the elbow. Hope allowed herself to be led to a door on the opposite side of the room. The shadows/demons danced on the walls all around her – a kaleidoscope of evil intent.
    “Please, don’t make me touch the door,” she said when they had stopped. “If I touch the door, the demons will find a way in. Oh God, please don’t make me go into that room…”
    She gasped and ducked when a black shadow whooshed over her head, bringing with it a gust of freezing cold air. She knew, that if she touched the door then the black shaped would flow through her and into the room. Once in the room they would take on their true shapes, and then Hope knew that she would surely go mad. It was not a human-being’s place to look upon the demons, she knew. It would make Frank, James and June in their wicker-baskets seem like an illustration in a children’s story.
    “Get in,” Mick said, pushing open the door.

 
     
     
     
    CHAPTER TEN
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Hope lurched inside the third room of the tour. She screamed and covered her face, fully expecting the bad shapes to flow through her body and materialise before her…
    To her relief, nothing happened. In fact, the shadows hadn’t even followed them into the room. They were safe in this room, for the time being at least. Relaxing a little bit, she forced herself to look.
    This one was small like the other two, with the same tiled floor and white-washed walls. In this room, however, was a bed.
    And on it lay Rohan. He was asleep, or unconscious and wore nothing but a pair of black boxer-shorts. He lay on his back, looking angelic beneath the harsh lighting, his blonde hair shining. His wrists were handcuffed to the metal headboard and he slept on peacefully, looking as innocent as a child.
    The bed was a