Excerpt: [untitled as yet]

This room was hidden. No one came here, I knew that instinctively, now. No one was supposed to be here...there were no doors, no windows, because there was meant to be no people. But I was here. Why was I here?

And where did the light come from? The room was well-lit, almost like an underground carpark illuminated by fluroescent lights. But there were no lights to be seen anywhere – there were no walls to affix them to, and above me was just the pipes. The ceiling went on forever, the floor parellelled it. Did it have a beginning and an end? How did I get in again? How did--

The no-faces. The no-faces were advancing again, out of nowhere. Their egg-smooth faces with their obscene mouths, the pointed tongues behind rows of molars, and...

I scrambled to my feet and stared as they came closer. The no-faces...now had eyes.

Not ordinary human eyes – not by a mile. Certainly, there was the eyeball in the eye socket, white, iris, and pupil. But the entire eye was a sickly, odd shade of orange, which reminded me of the colour of Berocca, of all things. The irises were merely darker shades of the same orange, the pupils weren't black – just a dark, darker, darkest orange, closer to brown. They were twice the size of human eyes and too far apart to look normal, even taking into consideration the featureless planes of the no-faces' heads. The eyes rolled, as if they weren't affixed in their sockets properly.

And those eyes caught sight of me, again. A murmur went through the advancing group, and their pace quickened. Fear awoke in the pit of my belly, corkscrewed up through midriff, breast, into my throat--

No.

The thought came unbidden, and it stopped the creeping fear right where it was climbing. It held for a heartbeat, then sunk back into the pit of my stomach, where it dissipated. My shoulders dropped, my head bowed.

No. Not this time, fuckers. Come on. Come on, then...

Silently, unmoving, I beckoned them on. Come closer, closer. Hurry up. Come on, then. Are you afraid?

Are you afraid? Let's do this...

I kept my gaze on the floor, listening to their strange tapping footsteps, the constant murmuring hum they were making amongst themselves. I didn't move an inch when they came close enough to touch, didn't twitch a muscle when finally, after a moment's hesitation, the ringleader – the one who had torn into my face with its grinding teeth the last time – grabbed me with skeletal fingers, pinning me against its body and twisting its hand into my hair, forcing my head back against its shoulder, exposing my throat. It had no nose, or even anything that could pass as a nose, but I knew somehow that it was sniffing at my neck.

It began to laugh, the same as before. I still didn't move, limp as a stringless marionette.

“Thank you...” It croaked. “Thank you...thank you...”

Not fuckin' likely, creep.

In the split second between it lowering its head to bite mine and actual contact, I tensed every muscle in my body and flung my left foot up behind me, hard as I could. There was a satisfying noise, something between a thud and a crunch, as the sole of my shoe (boots, I was wearing black combat boots) connected with the no-face's pelvic bone, and a few other important objects in between.

The no-face made a choked, groaning noise, and its grip upon me slackened. I didn't waste time, and whirled out of its grasp, kicking upwards, hitting its chin with the steel cap of my boots and slamming its head back. As it fell, I kicked it twice again before it hit the ground, for good measure.

And then it was on.

They flew at me, I ducked, whirled, danced around them like a ballroom dancer with a time-bomb in her chest and blades in her skirt. They were fast, but they were also clumsy – something I could use to my advantage. I spun, kicked, blocked, and drove my fists into hideous orange eyes, feeling extremely satisfied when the sacs of fluid burst and dribbled down the no-faces and onto my fingers.

This was pure exhileration. I felt like I was flying.

One of them screamed in pure frustration and, fuelled by fury, dove straight at me, head on. I guessed that it was hoping that the adrenaline of blind anger would help it get the upper hand, and take me down. Berserker rage, wasn't it?

It was almost funny. Trying to take me down with berserker rage? Me? Come off the grass.

It was perfectly timed: as the no-face lunged, I pirouetted gracefully on the tips of my left toes, swinging my right foot up and putting all my weight behind it. With a balletic movement, the heel of my foot smashed squarely into the no-face's mouth, and hard. I was extremely pleased to see some of those hideous molars go flying through the air along with blood and spittle. A beautifully executed move. Nine out of ten. (Perfect tens are for suck-ups.)

The no-face screamed – that is, it made a wailing noise somewhere between the squeal of tyres on bitumen and a cat being strangled. The sound thrilled me to my core. It put its hands to its ruined mouth, hunching over in pain, and I didn't miss the opportunity: I brought both my hands down behind its head, hard. A similar noise to what I'd heard when I'd kicked the first no-face between the legs was heard. God, this was better than a choir of angels!

The toothless no-face went down like a sack of potatoes. I turned to face the remaining no-faces, and--