A nightmare on Downing Street

A long and dusty road stretches off into the distance of a barren and parched landscape, a dirty barefoot girl in bloodied rags is staggering across the scrubland frantically waving and shouting at an approaching vehicle.

The car skids to a halt a hundred meters down the road and as the girl clambers onto the tarmac the passenger window slides down, the driver calls out “Need a ride?”

The girl runs towards her saviour.

This girl is the only one to escape from the clutches of the psychopath who had kidnapped her and her friends when their camper van had broken down on this lonely road all those years ago. Held captive and then systematically tortured, the girl is the sole survivor of the unspeakable horrors inflicted upon her and many others held hostage before her.

With her last ounce of energy she wrenches the car door open. “Thank God you came along” she cries as she falls into the passenger seat. “Please let’s get away from here, hurry, there’s a madman!”

The driver, a slight, grey-haired older lady rests an immaculately manicured hand on the girls knee, “don’t worry you’re safe now”.

The passenger window rolls back up, the doors lock and the girl notices the “I love Dave” badge on her lapel.

“I’m Theresa” she smiles with a twinkle in her eye, “You’re not from around here are you?”

As an expensive pony-skin stiletto pushes the accelerator to the floor, the girl realises her mistake, but it is too late, her screams are drowned out by a cackle of laughter as the car speeds off  up the road.

Cue haunting piano music.

Cut to black


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