Becoming...

by Jacob Rayne

  Tommy screamed and dropped his knife.

  Luke caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see a man flailing a metal bar at him.

  He moved enough to make it hit his shoulder instead of his head. Pain flared in his shoulder, making his hand tingle.

  The lad was still off balance, so Luke kicked him in the back of the legs, sweeping his feet from under him. He landed hard, making the pictures on the walls vibrate.

  Tommy scrabbled to his feet, clutching his bleeding arm. He saw Luke climb onto Ivan’s chest and start pummelling him. Heard the crack as the first blow broke something in Ivan’s face.

  Ivan spat blood and swung a punch back at Luke. It landed hard, but Luke ignored it. Tommy ran to the door, kicking Luke in the back as he passed.

  ‘No, man, don’t run,’ Ivan cried. ‘We can beat him if there are two of us.’ He screamed as Luke stuck Tommy’s knife through his wrist, pinning him to the floor.

  Tommy was struggling with the front door, in his state of terror unaware that it had locked itself after slamming shut. He pulled it hard, but to no avail.

  Luke was starting to get up from on top of Ivan.

  He stared at Tommy, a grin visible beneath the torn features of his mask. Then he slammed the knife into Ivan’s gut and pulled it across. Steaming loops of intestine flopped out amid a stream of blood.

  Tommy ran past Luke, now not daring to even try to attack him. He headed upstairs.

  Luke slashed the knife at him. It missed, but a spray of gore from the blade hit him in the face. The feel of the blood on his skin sickened him. He let out a cry of dismay as he hurried to wipe it off his face with his sleeve.

  Luke finished his disembowelling of Ivan and followed Tommy upstairs. Ivan twitched, his blood spreading around him on the laminate flooring.

  Chapter 138

  Tommy heard Luke pursuing him up the stairs. Every footstep slammed into his head like a punch.

  He struggled to think.

  There were no weapons upstairs.

  He had to get out.

  The door to his bedroom slammed. He pushed his bed in front of it, but he knew that it would take the furious Luke a matter of minutes to get in.

  The impact made the bed move back a few inches. He let out a cry and looked around, seeing the window. It was a ten-foot drop, but better that than risk being caught by the masked psychopath.

  The door slammed again, cracks appearing in the wood.

  Covering his face, he ran at the window.

  He seemed to fall for an age, then he landed with a thud on the floor.

  One of his legs was hurt, and he was hugely grateful it wasn’t broken. It felt like the king of all dead legs, but he hauled himself to his feet, knowing that if he could get into one of the cars on the street he could get away.

  Chapter 139

  Luke had heard the breaking glass and knew what it meant. He shoved aside the splintered remains of the door and rushed to the window.

  Below him, he saw Tommy struggling to his feet and shuffling towards one of the cars. He smiled at his foresight to slash the tyres of most of the cars on the street.

  Tommy smashed the window of his car, then cursed as he looked down to see the ragged wound in the tyre.

  He rushed to the next car.

  Tyres slashed here, too.

  Ditto the next car.

  Terror overwhelmed him as he realised that the killer had disabled all of the cars.

  He couldn’t drive away.

  Couldn’t run.

  He was fucked.

  With a grin, he remembered Ivan’s car. His friend had just turned up, so it’d be unlikely to be damaged. It was just a case of finding it now.

  Shuffling into the back alley, he saw the gleaming crimson paintwork of Ivan’s car at the far end. A grin lit his face. There was no sign of the killer.

  He was home free.

  He got to within three feet of the car before he saw a shadow detach itself from the wall.

  Shit, it’s him!

  Chapter 140

  Tommy’s legs felt numb, but he turned and tried to run.

  Luke caught him with a punch that splattered his nose across his face.

  He let out a wet sob. He’s going to kill me if I don’t do anything, he thought. The idea made him charge at Luke, catching him with a hard head-butt to the gut.

  They flew backwards, Luke landing on his back, stunned by the impact. Tommy slammed punch after punch into Luke’s face, determined that he wasn’t going to die without a fight.

  Luke laughed as he took the punches. Blood streaked down his face. He spat it up at Tommy.

  ‘That the best you got, Tommy?’ he mocked.

  Tommy slammed a few more punches into his face and got up to run. Luke swung his leg round, catching Tommy’s legs even though he jumped to avoid the collision.

  The jump only served to give him further to fall. He fell at an awkward angle, catching his head on the side of the car.

  Luke got up, spitting blood into Tommy’s face. ‘You’re in for it now,’ he laughed.

  Tommy lay on his side and groaned.

  Luke rolled Tommy onto his back then sat on his chest, raining blows onto his head.

  Tommy instinctively threw his arms up to protect his head, but Luke stuck a finger into the wound in his forearm and used this to move his arms out of the way while he landed a few hard punches.

  Tommy floundered as the powerful blows took their toll on him. Luke pulled the knife and stabbed it through Tommy’s knee.

  He laughed as yet another ‘Hard man’ turned into a gibbering wreck.

  Tommy pleaded for his life, his voice ragged and choked with tears.

  Luke pulled the knife free, stood up and stomped on Tommy’s ribs. As Tommy bent double, Luke slammed his foot into his face, making him slump back to the floor.

  Luke dragged him to the rear of the car, leaving twin trails of blood from his punctured forearm and knee.

  He went inside for Ivan’s car keys then picked up Tommy’s limp body and dropped it into the boot.

  Chapter 141

  Once inside Peth Vale’s grounds, he lifted Tommy out of the boot and dragged him along the flagstone floor to the poolside.

  Tommy cried out when he saw Otis’s rotting, fingerless hand on the corner of the patio.

  ‘What is this place? It looks like an abattoir,’ Tommy sobbed.

  ‘This is the final resting place of most of your gang,’ Luke snarled. ‘When I first came here, the pool was just covered in scum. Now it’s filled with it too.’

  Tommy looked at him in disbelief.

  Luke walked over to the pool and dangled a spade in the water until it snagged a rope on one of the tarpaulins.

  He bent his legs then stood up forcefully, pulling the spade up to lift the tarpaulin out of the water. He set it down on the side of the pool and cut the rope with his knife.

  Inside the tarpaulin were Scotty’s decaying remains. He dragged the body over to Tommy, who screamed when he saw it.

  ‘See?’ Luke said. ‘All of them are in there. Except Johnny T. He’s still in the bath where he blew his own head off. Oh, and Dave. He got burnt to cinders at Otis’s house. Your gang will soon be re-united in hell.’

  ‘You don’t have to do this. I’ll give you anything you want. Money? Drugs?’

  Luke shook his head sadly. ‘None of that matters. The only thing that matters is that you die.’

  Chapter 142

  He then stood over Tommy and beat him frenziedly until he stopped defending himself and lay, sobbing, on the blood-soaked floor.

  Luke stood back, then kicked him hard a couple of times. Tommy visibly stiffened every time Luke struck him.

  ‘You can die right now,’ Luke said. ‘But you have to do it yourself.’

  Tommy tried to crawl away.

  Luke followed him and stamped on his injured knee.

  ‘OK,’ Tommy cried, ‘I’ll do it. I’ve had enough.’

>   Luke took one of the chairs out of the house and stood it under a thick branch of one of the trees in the garden.

  He tied the rope around the branch and fashioned the other end into a crude noose.

  Dragged Tommy over to the tree and lifted him onto the chair.

  ‘End it now,’ he told Tommy. ‘End your own suffering.’

  Tommy hesitated for a second, then put his head in the noose. His breathing laboured as Luke tightened the rope.

  ‘Now look me in the eye and kick the chair over.’

  Tommy broke down, tears pouring down his bleeding face.

  ‘Please,’ Tommy pleaded, his voice wheezing. ‘It doesn’t have to be like this.’

  ‘You were all dead the moment the first one of you laid a finger on me. Make it easy on yourself.’

  Tommy closed his eyes, trying to summon the courage to kick the chair over.

  Luke became sick of waiting, cut the rope and dragged him down from the chair, throwing the loop of rope into the grass.

  ‘Since you don’t have the guts, I’m going to have to hurt you some more.’

  Chapter 143

  Luke dragged Tommy to the patio and drew his knife.

  As the blade sunk into his side, Tommy recoiled in agony, blood gushing from his open mouth.

  ‘Kneel,’ Luke said.

  He grabbed hold of Tommy’s head and held it tight then stuck the blade into his left eye. A thick black jelly oozed out of the wound.

  Tommy fell facefirst into the pool, his scream muffled by the filthy water.

  Beneath the mask, Luke grinned as he beheld Tommy’s suffering.

  ‘Kneel and look at me,’ Luke said.

  Lifting his head from the water, Tommy writhed in agony, his bleeding eye leaving thick smears of gore on the dirty white tiles on the edge of the pool.

  ‘I said fucking look at me,’ Luke said.

  Tommy saw the way he was thrusting the knife at him and took heed.

  ‘I’m enjoying this,’ he told Tommy. ‘Are you?’

  Tommy shook his head, whimpering. Terror had drained all the colour out of him, leaving him as pale as the tiles on which he knelt.

  ‘I thought you were supposed to be hard?’ Luke mocked him, grinning widely beneath the mask.

  Tommy didn’t get to reply. Luke, still laughing, ran the blade across his throat, opening a huge, gaping wound. Tommy’s head lolled back on his neck.

  He slumped forward into the pool, sending stagnant water flying through the still night air.

  Luke watched as the blood gushing out of his slit throat gradually dyed the water red. He relished the sight of the blood spraying into the pool, slowly spreading in a crimson halo around Tommy’s convulsing body.

  ‘Well that was something special,’ the clown’s voice said from behind him. In his trance-like state Luke had not realised that he was even there. ‘But I’m going to go in now. I’m fucking freezing. You coming?’

  Luke shook his head, his eyes glued to the blood that still seeped out of the savage red smile in Tommy’s throat.

  When the bleeding stopped and the steam no longer rose from the pool, he exhaled hard, savouring the scene one last time.

  Then he went inside.

  It was almost time to finish the vile clown.

  Chapter 144

  Alfred had had plenty of time to think about his course of action and had decided he’d let the freak bring up the subject of the pretty blonde girl.

  If she wasn’t mentioned he’d not push it.

  She was an absolute stunner, but he just wanted to be away from the freak.

  As twisted as Alfred was, he couldn’t cope with the extremity of Luke’s psychosis.

  The masked man brought up the subject, letting Alfred relax a little, though he remained wary of his strange acquaintance.

  ‘I’m a man of my word,’ Luke said. ‘So I will bring you the blonde girl and the body of the bouncer’s girl, like I promised.’

  ‘Thanks, man. I appreciate it. It’s been a blast.’

  ‘Yeah.’ The masked man moved awkwardly, as though something was on his mind.

  ‘You ok?’

  ‘Yeah, just trying to remember where the blonde bitch lives.’

  Alfred nodded. He knew he was being lied to but didn’t press it. All he cared about was getting the blonde girl and getting the hell out of here.

  ‘I’ll not be long,’ Luke said.

  Alfred nodded. ‘Hey, let me have first go on her,’ he smiled.

  His attempt at lightening the mood failed. Luke stared at him blankly and turned away.

  Chapter 145

  Luke found Kate’s house and put his fist through the window. The noise didn’t carry far despite the silence of her sleeping street.

  He hauled himself through the window, the knife cold against his belly.

  Beneath Bryony’s skin, he smiled.

  This revenge was a long time coming. Kate and the clown were the two people who had caused the most misery in his life.

  He had buried the gang and now the real fun could start.

  Alfred wouldn’t be prepared for his betrayal, indeed he sensed the clown’s fear of him.

  The fat bastard would be easy prey.

  Luke’s smile widened, making the sides of his mouth and eyes ache, further reminding him of the reason he was here.

  Kate would be lucky to survive until the clown got hold of her.

  He found her asleep on the settee. Her duvet was rucked up, revealing a perfect tanned thigh.

  Tearing his eyes away from it, he pulled the knife from beneath the folds of Bryony’s skin.

  Her confused face stared up at him when he pressed the cold steel against her neck.

  ‘Wha the?’ she muttered.

  ‘You probably don’t remember me,’ Luke began, speaking slowly as he figured out what to say. He’d fantasised about this day for years, but now it was here he found he was tongue tied.

  Pulling the mask apart to reveal his blood-stained, scarred face, he said, ‘I blame you for this. You lied to me, led me on. And they made me do this to myself.’ His finger traced the thick bands of scar tissue around his eyes and mouth.

  She gasped as she saw the damage that he had inflicted. ‘But I thought you were dead,’ she said.

  He shook his head slowly. ‘Sadly not.’

  With that he lunged at her. His fingers clamped around her throat and squeezed.

  Already, she felt herself weakening, felt the numbing darkness overwhelming her.

  Then, mercifully, the fingers relinquished their grip. She wheezed in, the air like sandpaper on her throat.

  Her relief faded when she realised that Luke was already binding her wrists with cable ties.

  ‘We’re finally going to the Murder House,’ he said, smiling.

  Then he slung her over his shoulder. He was strong, much stronger than she would have thought. She knew she’d be lucky to get out of this alive.

  Chapter 146

  In Peth Vale’s dank basement, Luke laid Kate on the floor.

  The concrete chilled her bare skin, but the trembling of her body was more from fear than the biting cold.

  Her eyes moved from the clown to Luke and back again.

  Somehow the clown was the least scary of the two.

  Alfred eyed the prone girl, his eyes on stalks, his black painted grin seeming to stretch forever. The front of his pants bulged. Drool glistened on his grease-painted chin.

  ‘There ya go,’ Luke grinned.

  Alfred nodded his thanks. He seemed wary of Luke, like he was waiting for something to happen.

  ‘Well, it’s been a fucking blast,’ Luke smiled.

  Alfred saw the ribbons of scar tissue around his mouth and hurriedly looked away.

  Luke held his hand out. Alfred looked at it like it was a loaded gun, but took it anyway.

  As he did so, Luke pulled him in hard. Light winked off the knife in Luke’s left hand.

  Alfred somehow managed to deflect
the blow, which seemed as fast as a snake strike. The knife skidded down his right side, tearing a hole in his shirt.

  Without thinking, he thrust his head at Luke, catching him unawares and bursting his nose. Blood poured down the back of his throat.

  He didn’t seem hurt, but the angle of the attack made it easy for Alfred to grab his knife hand and twist it.

  Stunned, Luke let go of the knife. Alfred caught it as it slid down his side, and, moving with a speed he didn’t know he had, thrust the blade at Luke’s stomach. The knife sunk into his belly a few inches.

  Luke bellowed with rage and thrust his fingers at the clown’s eyes.

  Alfred quickly slammed the rest of the blade in. His hand collided with the dead skin covering Luke’s gut.

  Luke fell back, blood already flowing from the wound and pouring through the ragged hole in Bryony’s dead flesh onto the floor.

  Kate watched all of this with wide eyes.

  Luke cupped his hand to the wound and tried to stand.

  The clown whistled. Luke watched the open cellar door.

  Down the stairs came three figures. He recognised all of them.

  Two were Stan and Charlie, the men that Hirst had turned away from Tommy’s house.

  The third was Dave.

  Chapter 147

  Through the split in Bryony’s dead face, Alfred saw Luke’s confused expression.

  ‘You may be hard as nails with a psychotic temper,’ he said. ‘And you may be wearing one creepy-ass mask, but when I look in your eyes I still see that frightened kid I orphaned all those years ago.’

  Luke gasped as he realised how much of his blood was pooling on the concrete floor.

  ‘So, I took out a little insurance. Dave here was most appreciative of my revelation of who was killing his friends. And he and his mates are eager to make you suffer for what you did to the others.’

  ‘You’re all fucking dead,’ Luke spat, blood-flecked spittle flying from his jaws.

  Alfred shook his head, the painted grin widening ever further. ‘Afraid not, my friend. These lads are going to bury you while I find a new place for me and the blonde girl to live. It’s a shame I’m not going to see you die, but the memory of what I did to your sister will more than make up for it.’