by Jacob Rayne
‘For fuck’s sake, Paulo. This guy’s dangerous. We need to take him out before he wakes up. This is serious shit. You get in trouble, I’ll be in straight away.’
He clapped a comforting hand on Paulo’s shoulder.
‘Ok,’ Paulo said, moving towards the door before he had time to change his mind.
Otis’s eyes scanned the darkened landing, searching for the hidden killer. He was nowhere to be seen.
Paulo moved to the door, his heart already slamming.
The bedroom door was open a few inches. A sickening smell drifted out through the gap. He blotted it out and pushed the door open, wincing as the hinges squealed.
A few feet behind him, Otis moved forwards. Paulo looked over his shoulder.
Otis nodded firmly.
Paulo took a deep breath and moved into the room. His hand faltered on the light switch. No, leave it off, his mind screamed at him. Are you trying to wake him up?
He jumped slightly as the door bumped against the wall.
There was a shape huddled beneath the covers on the bed.
He’s still asleep, his mind screamed in triumph. He won’t even know what’s happened until it’s too late.
His eyes glued to the sleeping figure on the bed, he crept closer.
Otis stopped at the threshold to the room.
Paulo reached the bed and paused for a second, the knife trembling in his hand.
He then slammed the knife down hard into the body, aiming for the chest area. The blade sunk into the flesh, surprising him with how good it felt.
‘Take that, you freak,’ Paulo cried, feeling sheer relief at making it this far.
Behind him, he heard a deep, mocking laugh. No time for Otis to be playing tricks, he thought. Before the thought had time to sink in, the door to the room slammed shut, hitting Otis in the face.
Light stung Paulo’s eyes.
In the light, he found himself staring at a dead body on the bed.
A skinless, headless, bloody mass of dead flesh.
He let out a scream and turned to see a sight even worse than the corpse.
Like Otis had said, the figure did look like a zombie. It was charging straight for him.
Chapter 112
Paulo was too terrified to even lift his knife hand. The figure ploughed into him at chest level, taking him off his feet.
The door slammed behind them as Otis tried to open it, but the bookcase that Luke had tipped over was barring it shut.
The noises were far away to Paulo. Otis may as well have been in another town, for all the good it would do.
The horrid masked face of the man he thought he’d killed stared down at him. He retched, and vomit crept up his throat.
Luke twisted the knife out of Paulo’s hand and slammed the blade into his belly.
He got up – he wanted Otis, not this fat bastard – and ran to the door. Pulled the bookcase aside and heaved open the door.
He expected Otis to rush him, fists flailing, but he didn’t.
‘You do right to fear me, Otis.’
He turned to see the fat man fumbling in his pocket, probably for a mobile phone. He pulled the hand out and dug around in the pocket. After stomping the phone, he turned back to the doorway.
Still no sign of Otis.
‘You disappoint me, Otis. I thought you had balls. But bringing a friend, and now hiding, that’s bad form.’
Otis, hidden behind the curtains in Norma’s room, tried to stifle his breathing.
He was beginning to regret his rash actions tonight, but he knew that if he kept it together, he could get out of this alive.
Paulo’s moans and cries came from the next room, and Otis’s sensible side said he should forget him, let him get sacrificed. But it was his fault Paulo was here and his conscience (such as it was) wouldn’t let him do that.
He just had to hope that the psycho didn’t realise this.
Paulo cupped a hand to his bleeding gut. There was a shitload of blood and he was starting to feel lightheaded, but he figured the wound wasn’t fatal.
He crawled along the floor, trying to make his escape. Luckily, the nutcase was busy trying to find Otis, and seemed to have forgotten about him.
He reached the landing and heard nothing. The house was eerily quiet.
‘Silent as the grave,’ Luke said from behind him, making him jump.
Otis heard the voice and his pulse began to race. He had an image in his head of the gruesome mask, and he had no desire to see it again.
‘Otis, your fat friend here is going to suffer a painful death if you don’t come out of your hidey hole.’
Otis heard the words, but didn’t want to believe them. He wondered if he should give himself up – knowing, deep down, that a violent death awaited him if he did surrender.
His mind was made up for him when Paulo screamed.
‘Well, I’m impressed,’ Luke said, upon seeing Otis emerge from hiding. ‘I didn’t think you had a decent bone in your body. Guess I was wrong.’
Otis stared at the knife stuck a few inches into Paulo’s stomach then glanced at his agonised expression.
Mercifully, the shadows hid most of Luke’s macabre mask from his sight.
Luke watched Otis get into range, then he stomped the knife’s handle, driving it deep into Paulo’s bulging gut. Paulo screamed again.
Otis charged, flailing the knife towards Luke’s face.
Luke dodged and slammed a fist into Otis’s ribs. His breath exploded out of him. His chest laboured, trying to pull air into his starving lungs. The knife flew from his hand, disappearing into the darkness.
Luke bent down and pulled the knife out of Paulo’s stomach. Otis still struggled for breath.
Paulo’s arms wrapped around Luke and pulled him down.
‘Run, Otis,’ he yelled. ‘I’ll hold him while you get away.’
‘Got a better idea,’ Otis wheezed. He pulled an acrid breath into his lungs and aimed a kick at Luke’s face. He let out a cry of disbelief as his shin hit Luke’s raised elbow and made his foot go numb.
Seemed he was fucked whatever he did.
‘Come get me, you twisted fuck,’ he said, shuffling off down the stairs.
Luke grew sick of trying to get his arms free and instead raised his weight off Paulo. He dropped fast, slamming the crown of his head into the fat man’s nose.
‘Ah, shit,’ Paulo cried out, and, like magic, his arms released Luke.
Luke dropped another heavy headbutt onto Paulo’s shattered nose, then set off after Otis.
Chapter 113
Pain had been consumed by fear, allowing Otis to move fast, despite the pins and needles feeling in his leg.
He rolled out of the open kitchen window, wincing as his sore leg hit the floor, and made his way across to the bushes near the back fence.
A stone from the rockery was the best weapon he could find. It was no match for a knife, but it would have to do.
The sound of approaching footsteps jolted him out of his thoughts. Through the gap in the bushes, he saw a dark form. He knew it was the killer as it was too small to be Paulo. Shadows still hid the mask from him.
‘Know you’re still here, Otis,’ Luke whispered. ‘I know you didn’t want to leave your buddy. Come out and play. I’ll make it quick for you, then I’ll go in and finish the fat man.’
Otis remained silent, straining to keep his breathing inaudible.
The figure approached him, like he knew exactly where he was hiding and was just toying with him.
Just as Luke neared the hiding place, Otis heard a thud as Paulo fell from the kitchen window. Blood poured from the wounds in his middle.
Luke turned.
Otis took his chance, charging Luke and slamming the stone into the back of his head.
Luke jerked forward, cursing his lack of awareness. He saw stars for a second, then the two attackers separated and started to scale the fence.
Luke spun and saw that Otis was already on the other side. He ran at the f
at man and jammed the knife hard into his back.
Paulo clung to the fence for a second, his whole frame twitching. The fence shook in its foundations. Blood pouring from his mouth, he fell heavily to the floor.
Luke heard Otis gasp from the other side of the fence. He started over the fence, but Otis had disappeared by the time he reached the top.
Not to worry, Luke knew exactly where to find him.
Chapter 114
The next day, Luke woke late. He waited until nightfall, smiling as he relived the killings he had carried out.
When it was dark, he picked up the car and loaded Paulo’s corpse into the boot. On the way to Peth Vale, he stopped to pick up the bouncer’s body.
Alfred was puzzled when he opened the door upon Luke. He saw the two bodies slumped on the gravel drive and grimaced. The frown turned upside down when he realised that one of them was the bouncer he’d killed.
‘I haven’t had the police braying down my door just yet,’ Luke smiled. ‘So I reckon it’s time we teach the other fuckers a lesson.’
Alfred smiled.
‘Gotta confess I’ve had a bit of fun without you last night. Hence the fat boy’s body.’
‘It’s fine.’
‘I’m a man of my word so I brought you the bouncer’s body. Like I promised I’ll give you the slut’s when we’re through.’
Alfred nodded.
‘So, hide the bouncer’s body and let’s get moving. And you may as well put the fat man in a safe place too while you’re on.’
Alfred muttered under his breath. He had no liking for being bossed around by his strange associate, but he did as he was told.
They got into the car and Luke drove them to Paulo’s, the house where he had broken the window a few days earlier.
He parked up and took a petrol can out of the boot.
Otis and Dave were sitting in the front room. The broken window had been replaced. What was the point in that? he thought and almost laughed. He scolded himself: this was serious.
‘I’ll smoke them out,’ he told the clown. ‘You wait by the front door.’
Luke walked to the back alley and began to scale the wall to get onto the roof. When he got there, he stood swaying, feeling drunk on both the height and his anticipation of what was to come.
He poured the fuel can down the chimney and heard a scream as the petrol ignited on the coal fire burning in the front room. He climbed down into the back yard and watched while they ran to the back door.
They tried in vain to escape – Luke held the handle tight, making it hard to turn. Their screams grew in volume as they saw the terrifying death mask that covered his true face.
He watched through the window as they made their way through the inferno in the living room towards the front door.
He got there mere seconds before they did, but the clown was there to back him up.
Alfred stabbed Dave in the knee cap as he ran, panicking, into the street. Dave fell, screaming.
Otis hurdled over his writhing friend and ran down the middle of the road at a hell of a pace.
‘I’ll get the runner,’ Luke said.
Alfred nodded, booted Dave hard in the face and dragged him into the burning house.
Otis swerved into the alley behind the house. Doubting he could run that fast, Luke got into the car and sped after him.
Otis heard the approaching car enter the alley and turned, his face contorted by terror. Luke accelerated and the car hit the runaway with a sickening crunch. Luke drove over Otis again then got out. Otis cradled his shattered limbs on the alley floor.
Laughing, he put him in the boot and drove back to the flaming house, where the clown told him that he would meet him back at Peth Vale after he’d had some fun with the unconscious Dave.
Luke remembered what that had meant for Billy and wanted no part in it. He sped away to Peth Vale.
Chapter 115
Otis was still – barely – alive in the boot of the car. Luke picked him up by his shattered limbs and dropped him hard on the grass.
When Otis saw Luke’s mask he shuddered with revulsion and pleaded for his life.
‘I’ve heard it all before,’ Luke told him. ‘You’re wasting your time. As good as dead. You may as well pray I let you die quickly.’
Otis’s eyes grew wide and he trembled with fear. Luke reached into Otis’s pocket and pulled out his mobile phone. The screen was cracked down its middle, some of the plasma leaking out.
‘Who’s left from your little gang?’ Luke asked.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Don’t fuck me around,’ Luke hissed, using his foot to put a little pressure on one of Otis’s shattered legs. Otis stiffened, his terror visible in his eyes.
‘Tell me now,’ Luke said.
‘I told you, I don’t know what you mean.’
Luke put all of his weight onto Otis’s leg, making him scream in agony.
‘Otis,’ he said, ‘Why make it hard on yourself? As I said, you’re already dead. So why suffer more than necessary?’
Otis whimpered a little.
A mammoth burst of adrenaline coursed through Luke’s body.
He put all of his weight on Otis’s leg again. Otis went pale and looked as if he was going to pass out.
‘OK, OK, there’s Dave, Tommy and Johnny T.’
He could probably cross Dave off once the clown had finished with him.
That just left Johnny T, the fuck who had instigated the attack, and Tommy.
‘Do you have Johnny T’s number?’
‘No,’ Otis said. Luke put all his weight on the leg again. ‘Yes, yes OK, fuck man.’
‘Call him now.’
‘OK, just get off my leg. Please,’ Otis begged, the pain hewn into his face.
Otis dialled and Johnny T answered.
‘Talk to him,’ Luke said.
‘Hey, Johnny, the freak wants to talk to you. He says we fucked up his life.’
‘Give me that,’ Luke snapped, snatching the phone out of Otis’s hand. ‘I’m coming for you, Johnny T, you piece of shit.’
He held the phone close to Otis’s mouth and stamped hard onto his shattered left tibia. Otis screamed into the phone.
‘This is what’s coming to you,’ Luke told Johnny T.
Otis’s blank eyes stared into the pale grey sky and he silently prayed that he would die soon.
‘You still there?’ Luke asked.
Johnny T answered, sounding terrified.
‘If you’re a man, Johnny,’ Luke spat, ‘you’ll meet me at Scotty’s place, alone, in five minutes. If you do that, your boy Otis here’ll die real quick. If not, you’ll hear every last tortured scream.’
Johnny T hung up.
Luke rang him back, but Johnny T had switched off his mobile.
He coerced the phone number for Johnny T’s house out of Otis and dialled.
Johnny T let the call go to the answer phone.
Luke rang again, once more reaching the voicemail. He waited for the beep then stamped on Otis’s leg.
The scream from the answer phone echoed around Johnny T’s front room.
‘We’re just getting started here, Johnny,’ Luke said, bringing out a pair of small, sharp garden shears from the garage. He parted the blades and put them around Otis’s little finger.
‘Please don’t do this,’ Otis pleaded. ‘Please.’
Luke squeezed the handles together. There was a crunching sound, a spray of warm blood and Otis’s little finger fell to the floor.
Otis’s pained scream sounded ungodly through the speaker on Johnny T’s answer phone.
Luke put the shears around Otis’s thumb and squeezed the handles. Otis screamed as his thumb fell to the floor and floated in a pool of blood.
Luke cut off each of Otis’s fingers with the shears, waiting a while between each one, so Otis received the maximum amount of pain possible.
Luke watched Otis for a while, then went to the garage.
&nbs
p; He returned holding a propane blowtorch which he used to cauterise the stumps where Otis’s digits had previously been.
He didn’t want Otis bleeding to death just yet: the party was just getting started.
Chapter 116
Otis screamed – partly at his burning, fingerless hands and partly because he saw that the grinning Luke held a large, lethally-sharp kitchen knife.
Luke heard movement behind him and, lost in his sadistic euphoria, readied the knife to attack his unseen company.
‘Jesus, what the hell are you doing to him?’ the clown said. ‘You’re a fucking psycho, man. I love it.’
‘Please just kill me. I can’t take no more. Please,’ Otis broke down.
Luke laughed, shaking his head. What little mercy he had held for the gang and their kind had died with Bryony.
Otis tried to drag himself away on his shattered legs. Luke stood heavily on one of the legs, again making Otis scream.
He pinned Otis’s face to the floor, with his right arm out to the side. Knelt on the arm and began sawing into his wrist with the knife.
The sound of blade on bone was nauseating, even making the clown wince.
Otis screamed in agony, puking into the grass. Luke cut ten brutal strokes into the wrist, then paused.
Chapter 117
Johnny T cowered in the corner of his living room, wondering what they had done when they had attacked the freaky kid. It must have been him, the cop was dead. They had thought he had been responsible, but it seemed they had been wrong.
He stopped the answer phone. Seconds later, the phone rang and went to the answer phone again.
‘Come on, Johnny,’ the voice implored him. ‘Poor Otis here just wants to die. Don’t you, Otis?’
‘Please, Johnny, this guy’s fucked up.’
There was a pause for thirty seconds. Then Luke said, ‘Ok, Johnny. Have it your way.’
The answer phone speaker echoed wildly as Luke resumed sawing into Otis’s wrist. The room was full of Otis’s panting, pained breathing and his screams.
Johnny T heard another horrendous, blood-curdling scream, then menacing laughter came down the phone.