‘See when I get out of this chair, I’m gonna tear your fucking head off your body….you’ll be alive when I do it!’ he grinned.
The chisel was picked up, the hammer followed. He moved cautiously to the bleeding man. The tip of the long metal piece was placed on top of a finger, he raised the hammer and brought it down hard, the angled metal sliced through the skin and severed the bone. The man sucked in, the air hissed between his teeth as he fought the pain. Richard moved to the next hand and performed the same attack, this time a low scream erupted from the one receiving.
‘I have a question!’ started Richard, ‘Who is the Wolf and how do you know him?’
‘I’m not telling you shit, you think your crappy Mickey Mouse threats can hurt me…..bollocks, I’m still getting out of this chair!’
The weapons were placed back down, the blood pooling underneath the chisel. He scanned the array of weapons, deciding on which one to use.
His eyes widened as the thought came to mind. The old method was effective, dangerous, but effective. It would damage the man in such a way that most victims would die from a heart attack or worse, their throats ripped open from the inside. Richard thought of the results and knew that this beast was going to die anyway; he preferred to send him on his travels to hell in a memorable way.
The lamp was retrieved and the bulb carefully removed. The monster to his rear watched eagerly, attempting to see what his torturer was thinking. The fragile glass ball was placed upon the table and the lamps body slowly taken apart. He needed only the bulbs home and power source, the rest of the shell could be binned. The neck of the light source was plastic tubing which could be bent and manipulated in many ways, he kept this feature, deciding that it could be of use. The shield of the glass bubble was removed and the base it all connected to was twisted free. He moved to the plug socket, checking that he had enough cable to reach the man, he smiled as the length was ideal. The bulb was screwed back into its original place and the plug was turned on, the ball burned to life. It was extinguished and removed once again, the check proved it worked.
The man’s face displayed concern as Richard collected the left over tape and moved towards him, bulb in hand. He sat the tape on the legs and grabbed his hair, forcing his head backwards. The beast groaned as the bulb was pushed into his open mouth.
‘Don’t fight it, the glass will break and cut you to ribbons’ he smiled.
The metal end of the bulb protruded from his lips, the tape secured around the object and held in place. Richard chuckled to himself as the beast imitated a stuffed pig ready for roasting, the apple replaced by the light source.
‘Right, can you talk?’
‘Fuck you!’ the words slightly muffled but understandable.
‘Good’
He moved back to the table and grabbed the lamp’s cannibalised body. He turned and faced the man, the evil look struck his face as his eyes pierced his opponents.
‘Now this game is simple, you answer my questions or I cook the inside of your mouth!’ he winked.
‘FUCK……YOU!’ the drool slipped from the corner of his lips.
Richard walked over to the wall and pressed the plug socket so that the switch showed a red bar. He knelt in front of the man’s legs and raised the bulbs partner to his lips.
‘I warned you!’ he connected the ends and spun the bulb home, the man’s cheeks lit up with a pinkish-red colour. He began screaming as the walls of his mouth were slowly burned. The flesh blistered slightly and his face became purple from the strain. The lamp’s body was un-screwed and the light source killed. The victims head slumped forward as he managed the pain, his skin stuck to the glass shell.
‘The Wolf?’
‘I don’t!’ he mumbled, shaking his head.
‘Okay, are you a Paedophile?’ he asked
No answer came, the man’s face starring back at Richard, his eyes revealed the answer.
‘I see, that’s what I thought you’d say!’ he stood, placing the lamp body on the floor. He sat upon the desk and looked at the monster in the chair.
‘I’ve killed two of your kind tonight, really I have!’
No words followed.
‘Do you know anything about the Wolf?’
No answer came.
‘Fine, have it your way’, he climbed down from his resting place and picked up the lamp, ‘I’m tired anyway, got another stop to make before bed time, you ready?’ he smiled.
The connection was made once again and the bulb was screwed fully home this time. He watched as the cheeks illuminated, the man screamed as the pain returned. Richard picked up the bag and placed his tools back inside. Once complete he stood beside the man, making sure to step over the cable.
‘That’s me done pal, you just relax, don’t fight it.’ He began to walk from the study.
‘Oh, sorry I forgot to mention, try not to break the bulb, the blood and saliva in your mouth will react with the wiring and you’ll fry!’ he waved goodbye to the man as he slowly cooked, the light in the room was extinguished, leaving a glowing balloon upon the seat. Richard departed the house feeling slightly relieved, he had hoped for a quick kill, the night was pushing on and he had one more stop to make before calling it a day. He climbed into his car and started the engine. His eyes gazed up to the window of the house he had just exited, the dim light lit part of the room. He smiled, knowing what the light was and where exactly it was coming from. He also knew that the dim orb would break into a full blaze after the bulb popped, either by the teeth biting down upon it or the strain causing internal combustion, both resulting in the victim dying….horribly. The vehicle rolled from the driveway and onto the street, he pulled the list from his pocket and studied the address, the clock displayed 01:47 and his foot pressed hard upon the accelerator. The next job should only take him twenty minutes, in and out, that’s all he needed to do. The snow fell as a heavy blanket, the wheels crunched their way through.
Chapter Twenty Three
Russell had listened to the guest in his mind, he always did. Within the dream of vast forests and white powder, he chased the beast, they taunted one and other. The shadows cast by the trees offered ideal hiding places to lay low, prepare a strike and pounce upon the unsuspecting victim. It was more of a training session than play time, but he thoroughly enjoyed the rush it brought.
The dark beast whispered directions into his ear, he listened with intent. It spoke of a life he wanted, a way of living that he could abide by and enjoy. It brought to life the facts of difference, that he was unusual in many eyes, that he would not be welcomed by the normality of today’s society. Russell was amazed by the facts that crawled from the wolf’s mouth, he knew so much. The issue he was presented with was that when his transformation began, he would be discarded by all, especially those he loves. He would be a prisoner in the home he now stayed in, he would have to run, hide in the depths of secret holes until the night appeared. He felt ashamed by the judgement that would be forced upon him, bullied to be something he isn’t and will never be again. The final words of encouragement swirled in a mist of hot breath, his orders were clear.
To remove the resentment…you MUST remove the threat.....remove the threat!
He knew where to start but was unsure of how, he turned to the beast for help. It had gone, moved like a spirit silently through the woods, into the black mouth of his surroundings. He was alone, the time was precious and he needed to plan his next move, the words still circling his busy mind. Remove the threat!
Still dreaming, he had woken in his room. The night was full and the moon offered assistance to his task, the path illuminated by the bright beams. He moved slowly out of his room and creaked his way down the stairs. His uncle was a heavy sleeper, his snoring acted as an alarm system, if he could hear it then he was safe, if not….it meant his uncle was awake.
The kitchen was large, bigger than in real life. The dream had distorted several rooms and items within his mind, he was used to it. The handles, black i
n colour, poked from the top of the wooden block, one handle appeared larger than the others. He clasped his fingers around the item and slid it from it’s home. The knife had grown in length and width, it appeared more like a Machete than a basic kitchen knife. His dream had guided him this far, now he had to finish it. The high pitch noises arose from the stairs once again, the same places offered the same sounds. He stalked the landing, spying on his final destination. The door was slightly ajar, he watched as his uncle slept, his chest rising with every lung full, then deflating as the snorting sound escaped his mouth.
Remove the threat.
He edged the door open and tip toed his way into the room. His build was no aid in the intent of being stealthy, at fifteen stone and only twenty six, he was well toned and athletic, a must for his and the dark wolf’s plans. He managed to reach the bed, his heart racing with anticipation. He pulled back the quilt, his hand shaking with fear. He didn’t want to wake the man from his slumber, he would prefer a quick and easy kill, with as little mess as possible. The glowing moon helped brighten the room, the window directly above the bed. Russell looked up to the large ball of light, his heart slowed and hands steadied.
The first strike entered the chest and pierced the right lung, the blood bubbled as it mixed with the escaping air. His uncle awoke in shock. The knife was brought down again, this time slicing the throat just above the collar bone, his uncle fought wildly but a quick succession of stabs slowed him down. The weapon crashed down onto the body, chest, stomach, chest, neck, face. The blade snapped clean in two as it severed the jaw and became lodged between bone. He stepped back, watching the body twitch as the remaining life leaked from the multiple wounds. The bloody mess sprawled upon the sheets, the red liquid pooling under the carcass. Russell looked down upon his body, the arterial splashes scattered over his naked skin. He felt the rush, the pump of adrenalin soaring through his veins. He had done what was asked, what had been suggested to him by his dark traveller. He had removed the threat.
The reflection in the mirror seemed real, the water upon his face felt real, the blood that clung to his body was real. He hadn’t realised that the dream had ended. He was unaware of the exact time his darkest visions became real life. The shower was turned on and he climbed under the warm transparent liquid, his muscles relaxing under the heat. He had removed the threat, the threat was in his uncles room, the threat was lying in a blood ridden bed. He calmed his breathing, surprised at how well he had come to terms with the violent attack, his journey of transformation had begun, soon he would be what he longed to be………his invisible guest.
***
The familiar house stood to his front. Once again, he found himself on the pavement, his eyes looking toward the building. The darkness that had usually surrounded him was back, blacker than ever. It carried a heaviness to it, as though the night was engulfed with an invisible fog. His hands gripped the tools, a torch and wheel brace. The sensation of deja vu sunk in, he knew that he had been here before, the structure so familiar, the surroundings so exact. Within his mind he knew he was dreaming, but his attempts to pin point his location from memory failed. Why was this building, this moment in which he found himself on many sleepy occasions, so important? He didn’t know, it hurt his temple to think about it. He moved toward the house, this time he walked without the aid of floating. His feet crunched upon the gravel as he approached the front door. It was open, as normal. Upon entering he found one difference, the room he stood before was not the usual stairway into darkness. The walls displayed an enchanting scenery of green grass and blossoming trees. The colours were a mixture of tantalising effects, he couldn’t help but stare. The lights were bright but his eyes adapted quickly, the smell of bleach burned the inside of his nose as he entered the den. He scanned his surroundings, in one corner stood a camera balanced upon a tripod, he noticed the little LED flashing red. The room was empty apart from the seen things, he felt confused, puzzled as to the meaning of discovering the place. The lights were eliminated and he stood in absolute darkness. Several seconds passed and he attempted to use the torch, his arm was restrained, it wouldn’t move. His limbs had been secured, whilst the blackness swallowed him, someone or something had strapped him down. He panicked.
The lights boomed to life and stung his eyes, he wanted to rub them but couldn’t. He gazed upon the structure, the metal frame stood upright, his body secured to it. The wheels on the base made it easy to move him, he attempted to shake his prison, to tip it over and possible wriggle free. It failed. The howl caught his attention as the song began. It’s volume was low but it seized his movements, his eyes shot rapidly from left to right as he looked the source of the music. It gradually became louder, the room still empty. From the woods came a cracking sound, the painted trees became darker, as if a shadow had been cast upon them. He watched in fear, the shadow moving through the wooden giants. The music increased as the beast approached the edge of the wood line, Nathan caught its movement, stunned by the appearance from the painted wall. He watched it stalk the path, the long nose sniffing the array of scents. It froze; the smell caught its attention. Nathan wondered what it had found, what made it stop in its tracks. The fear filled its nostrils; the grey skin on the bridge of its nose began to crease as it inhaled wildly. The deep red eyes fixed upon Nathan, the teeth protruded from its mouth as it grinned at its prey.
The beast jumped back into the woods out of sight. Nathan squinted as he focused harder at the wall. Where are you? Where the fuck did it go?
The slice to his chest shocked him, the wolf attacking from his blind side. The warm blood ran down his stomach and into his trousers. He looked down at the gaping wound, his guts bulging with pressure.
‘What the fuck!’ he bellowed as the pain shot through his body.
The second strike tore the skin on his right arm, the flesh peeled open to display his muscle fibres and bone. Once again, the pain chewed through him. He cried for help, his head thrashed from side to side. The warm breathe caught his ear and he swung his head to see the beast. It wasn’t there. The teeth ripped into his cheek as the jaws clenched against his face, the scream fell on deaf ears. He wanted to wake, the pain felt real. He told himself to awaken, the order not adhered to. The large yellow teeth sunk further into him, the jaw popped in his ear as it was dislocated. He screamed louder………………….
The lamp was activated as a shaking hand located the switch. The sweat dripped like a tap from his face, his hand stroked his cheek, the cover pulled back to check his stomach. He noticed the large wet patch under his legs, the palm of his hand placed upon it. It was damp, he moved the hand to his face and stopped as the strong stench of urine struck him. He had wet the bed, the first time since he was a child. He felt slightly ashamed at the loss of bowel control. The dream had sent a fear through him that his body had not felt for a long time. He recalled the last time he had experienced that type of scare, the blade entering his body and dicing his limbs. The images flooded his mind, the young boys found dead, the dungeon of bodies, the methods in which the killer used. The monster, six feet four inches tall, built like a brick shit house. The Golden Boy Killer.
He needed a shower, to freshen up his skin and awaken his mind. His dreams would not allow him to sleep, they stopped his body from energising its self. He still felt tired, more so due to the way his body had reacted to the dark vision. He washed away the remains of the bad dream, his face rough from the lack of shaving. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the accessories to trim his face, or that he didn’t have time……he just didn’t have the energy.
The yellow patch remained on the mattress, he pulled the soiled sheets from the bed and left them in a pile by the door, embarrassed at the thought of the cleaning lady retrieving them. He flipped the mattress over to the dry side, he hoped it was dry and hadn’t seeped all the way through. It hadn’t.
He pulled on some underwear and jogging pants, the top half remained naked so he could air himself. He noticed the digits o
n the bedside clock tick to 04:35, he was awake, even if he wanted to go back to sleep he couldn’t, the dream had hurt him mentally, it had scared a delicate section of his brain. He sat upon the stripped bed, his back flush against the head board. He opened the drawer beside him and retrieved the folder. He hadn’t got far through the contents, he thought about killing some time and attempting to dilute the rest, looking for anything similar to the monster he, and several others, were hunting.
The typing upon the pages was small, so small that Nathan had to bring the page closer on several occasions, just to be sure of the word he was reading. Every now and then he peered up to the wall, his eyes reading the emotions upon the Wolf’s victims faces. He hated the man, despised his kind, and last night he took the opportunity to assist in cleansing London of that scum. He saw his feeble efforts as helping Richard, although there was little partaking from himself. He thought about the methods that his new colleague used, the things he had only seen in films, words spoken in random chat about the myths of interrogation. Last night was no myth, he remembered it well, too well for his liking. He had seen pain inflicted upon many people, one of whom was himself, but the type of torture he witnessed that evening had been the worst he had ever seen. He contemplated that the events had maybe triggered the haunting nightmare to strike with a fierce touch. His attention was given back to the file.
***
Jack awoke with a thudding skull. He had drooled upon the floor, again. His alarm had beeped on several occasions and he chose to ignore it. He had shot up when realising that his fellow co-workers would soon be entering the building, seeing him in the current state would really effect his position and rumours would begin to circulate like wild fire. It was one of those environments where people knew your personal business before you did. He pulled the sleeping bag from his legs like a butterfly escaping its cocoon. His arms stretched out wide, testing his wings for the first time. His back ached at the base of his spine, he laughed at the memory of Nathan whining at him to ‘stop being spineless’ and ‘man up’. He missed the banter they held, he missed his only friend. He made the decision to call him after freshening up, he had to sort himself first before anybody witnessed his appearance. He shuffled to the toilet, the sleeping bag wedged firmly back into the drawer. His face looked similar to the blurred reflection he cursed the night before. His skin cracked around the mouth, the neck sagging slightly. He filled the sink with cold water and removed his t-shirt. He sunk his head into the pool of chilling liquid, the throb under his skull slipped to the rear of his head, banging harder. The slow trickle chilled his neck as he stood, the droplets snaked down onto the neckline of his clothes. He felt a little more awake, but still looked terrible.
Little Red Page 24