Rescue the flatmate

I wanted to chase after Lucy. Once I got back outside I was gasping for air. The Brimstone bomb was dangerous. I call it Brimstone, you’d call it sulphur – ah yes, once you start to imagine what a sulfur based gas filling a house would do then you can begin to imagine how hard it was to breath.

I wanted to chase after Lucy even though the odds were tiny. The van was already out of sight and my old motorcycle often took a few more kicks then necessary to get started. It would have been worth taking the chance, though, saving Lucy would mean stopping a demon.

I wanted to chase after Lucy – but I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave Rae, her flatmate, inside the house. She wouldn’t likely survive the brimstone bomb.

Pulling my shirt up over my mouth I barged back inside the house. The yellowy vapour was everywhere and I couldn’t see more than a few inches from my face. Fortunately, Rae was where I had left her – knocked out by my chloroform – by the hot water heater.

I grappled with her lanky legs and dragged her along the floor. I could hear the sirens. Someone must have called the emergency services – probably mistaking the brimstone vapours for smoke.

I got Rae outside, dragged her a few feet away from the house and let her drop to the ground. The over-sized t-shirt she had been wearing in bed and been pulled up and pooled around her neck by the process of me dragging her along the carpet. Her exposed, bare, breasts were sweaty and tinged yellow from the sulfur. At least her panties had stayed on.

I found myself wondering whether she was a virgin. I wondered whether she might also be a target for the Dark Rose, Woodward and the Gardener. Perhaps I had saved her by knocking her out.

Whatever I did next I’d have to do it quickly. I could wait for the emergency services, wait for the police to find the remains of the bomb and try and convince them I’d seen the **** – Rae would backup the fact that Lucy was missing. That would mean answering questions from the police; I wasn’t keen on that. There could be newspapers and journalists en route too; they scanned the police airwaves as much as me.

Perhaps there was still time to go after Lucy. I was fairly sure the van had headed off to the east and towards the dock lands. Here’s a little tip for you – looking for cult activity? Always consider checking abandoned warehouses by the docks.