by Jim Ody
He wanted to walk up to her and shake her hard. So hard her neck would snap, but not before she saw the look of hurt in his eyes and realised what she’d made him do!
But of course he didn’t.
Instead, he wrote a note.
Not just any note, a suicide note. One he left on the roof a minute after he pushed her off.
The authorities bought it. The love triangle, and how she was distraught at cheating on her boyfriend. Marshall maintained his innocence, looking genuinely shocked that she’d cheated on him. Felix was looked into more closely and was given a real going over by the police. He acted cocky and was generally antagonistic. His dorm turned up a number of unsavoury items; but in the end with a lack of evidence, the police had no choice but to rule it as suicide.
Marshall never told his parents about Mary. Why should he? They couldn’t care less about him, let alone about some love interest.
But now he’d received a text from his mother. The police had turned up and they wanted to speak to him. They didn’t say why, but instantly guilt was crawling all over him. Spreading over his skin, then through his pores and burrowing into his veins. The highway from heart to brain.
He was scared. Genuinely petrified at what this meant. Was it a witness? They had a habit of turning up when the dust had settled.
So here he was, a grown boy and a young man striding towards the cabin of another cheater.
But just as he got there, he saw movement down the side of the cabin. He looked closely and saw someone at the window.
He walked up as silently as he could.
As he got near, he recognised the boy with the ginger hair.
“Oi!” Marshall hissed.
Like a girl, the boy squealed.
“What are you doing?”
The boy looked scared having now been caught.
“I thought he was hurting her!”
Marshall looked in the window where his dad was tied to a bed, and the woman stood over him. Both were naked.
“How was he hurting her?” Marshall said, although he was drawn to the woman. He felt wrong on many levels, but like flicking through the pages of a medical journal―the deformities and rashes staring back at him― Maybe he could not stop watching.
“You pervert,” Marshall said, taking in all of the woman.
“Says he! You’ve not looked away yet!” He giggled.
“Shut up! And get lost!”
The boy inched away, then suddenly whipped out his phone and took two pictures of Marshall looking through the window. Then he was gone.
Marshall couldn’t believe it. His dad was here cheating and he was here watching. He’d hit an all time low.
This wasn’t right. He had to do something about it before he…
He couldn’t finish the sentence even in his own head. If he did then it would become real. If the words slipped out of his mouth, he could never grab them back again. He’d always know.
But in his mind, he pictured the family holidays away. A time many years ago when they’d seemed such a normal and happy family.
A time before…
He gulped down the lump. He knew what had been the catalyst to all of this. His mum’s strange behaviour and the incessant painting. His dad’s infidelity.
And the first time he thought about taking his own life.
There you go. He’d said it.
It was all because of that one night.
Little Miss Evil
Chapter 28 - Keith
O ne of the worst things in the world was when you thought the world was laughing at you.
Keith couldn’t be sure, but the cute blonde girl called Jenny had made a quick exit when he’d told her about his special tour. He’d seen the same act before in some Hollywood blockbuster. He forgot the actor but he was one of those beefcakes, not that good looking, but his confidence, and perhaps his muscles, won him the girl.
He sighed to himself as he hung around the toilets. He realised how sad this made him look.
This summer had been a real let down. He’d had high hopes for it. Teenagers partying and cutting loose now uni was over. He had everything in place. The cameras had all been checked. He had bought a batch of new sweaters and a caseload of underpants, but nothing. He’d almost been too confident. Nothing seemed to work. He wondered whether this lot were just a little too stuck up.
A few months back in the Spring, it had been a different matter. Okay, it had been one night, but that, he was sure, was the first of many. The girl was hot. And he meant totally smokin’ hot. She was drunk as a skunk as her friends were quick to taunt, but he didn’t care. She called him handsome all night. And by all night, he meant in the two hours they were together. She’d had a fight with her boyfriend, and he was off cheating in a cabin with a woman twice his age, so she was looking for some release. Keith had swooped in with his best corny lines and through blurred vision, she’d laughed at him, and they’d kissed passionately. Then her friends disappeared off to cabins or bunks, and he was left to experience an hour of her that he’d played back in his mind a thousand times.
He also had it on film. But he’d edited it down. The first time he watched it in full, he felt embarrassed. He was fumbling around like he was wrestling with an airbed. For a lot of the movie he saw his own naked bottom more times than he ever wanted to. The whole thing was almost comical – the skinny guy and the gorgeous drunk.
The day after she’d been polite but insistent she’d not known what she was doing, and there would certainly be no repeat performance.
But anyway, he was caught in his fantasy again.
He looked behind him at the bar. The barmaid was shaking her head at him. He wondered whether it was sexual tension. He might need a couple of drinks himself, but she might have a motor in that large behind, that powered her up and down when on top of him. His ex had been just like that.
When he turned back around, he saw the blonde had passed him by. Then as if poked with a cattle-prod, he scurried after her. A reptile scuttling to towards its prey.
“Hey, you okay?” he said with a hand on her shoulder. When she turned around he saw she’d been crying.
“I’m fine,” she said, but in a voice that said she was anything but.
“Look, if you―”
“Just leave me alone!” she shouted loudly. A couple of people stopped what they were doing and looked at them.
Keith held up his hands. “Whoa whoa! I was just seeing whether you were okay!” He looked over at a couple of guys. He rolled his eyes like they were mates. “She’ll be hashtagging MeToo next!”
They laughed and raised their bottles but it wasn’t clear whether they were laughing with him or at him. The barmaid was staring daggers at him. Her hands were on her hips. She looked like she’d made her mind up over something, and she was stomping towards him with menace and purpose.
“Keith, look. I think you should call it a night, yeah?”
“What?” He was hurt. Those were usually words spoken when you were drunk and making a fool out of yourself. He knew he wasn’t drunk so… The sound of a penny dropping in his mind is not a pleasant one.
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow if you want.” She was giving him a deathly stare.
“But I’m―”
“Making a complete arse out of yourself. You need to stop trying so hard. You’re causing a scene, and if you’re not careful you’ll push customers away!”
He could feel the anger building up inside. It was one thing to think these things himself, but he didn’t need a girl with a fat-arse to tell him he was the fool!
“No, don’t say anymore.” He looked at her and her features flashed and morphed into his mother’s for a split second.
Her face was stern. He was eight-years-old and caught with his hands down his pants. “I’m not doing anything,” he’d whinged, but she was not impressed.
Now in his late Twenties, Keith looked genuinely full of regret, as the Barmaid remained stone-faced.
&
nbsp; “Sorry, mother,” he said with his head down.
He actually felt scared. The last thing he wanted was to be put into the shed again.
The last time he’d been there for two days.
He suddenly wanted to hurt people. He was enraged as he stormed out.
This wouldn’t be the last of it!
Little Miss Evil
Chapter 29
T he night air was thick. The sun may’ve gone for the day, but left behind was a muggy heat which only on occasion gave a wonderful relief of a breeze.
One of the cabins was playing loud thumping dance music, and underneath could be heard the joyous voices of more than the cabin’s occupants. A party in full swing. Laughter, shouting and glasses clanging was, beneath the heavy bassline, the soundtrack to the night.
Carl was laid naked on the bed. That, in itself was not an issue. He’d been like this before, and with this woman too. But what was slightly unusual was that he was still tied up like some sexual crucifixion, to the bedposts.
She had smiled playfully, as she removed herself off him. She was a naked vision that would stay with him.
“I’m going to take a shower,” she’d said, and at first he was still transfixed on her naked profile walking away like a catwalk model, that he forgot how he was left.
“Hey,” he managed as she got to the door. “What about me?”
“Don’t go anywhere,” she giggled before closing the door behind her.
Carl was left twiddling his thumbs. Or rather wiggling his thumbs, and suddenly feeling extremely exposed. His arm muscles hurt where he’d been pulling at the restraints, but his mind was flashing back the images of the whole experience.
He had a lot of thinking to do. A lot of thinking.
He had a huge big house. A successful job. And a woman and son who loved him. But was he truly happy? Happiness had done nothing to stop this little rendezvous. He’d felt the excitement all day like he was a teenager again. Was it lust? Was it love? Was it none of these but a need for excitement? A midlife crisis, perhaps? But then she was in her thirties, she wasn’t a naïve little teenager.
Was he stuck in a loop? It wasn’t that many years ago that he was sneaking off to the huge house to see Matilda.
So much ran through his mind. The questions, the thoughts, the wants and needs. Everything except for answers.
And that was why he didn’t hear the cabin door open up. The figure entering quietly. Sneaking in undetected.
The first Carl knew of the intruder, was a hand clamping over his mouth, and the other around his throat. An empty pillowcase was swiftly stuffed in his mouth, and another tied around as a gag.
And Carl began to panic. His chest heaving up and down. His eyes darted around as the glint of a knife shocked him. Strange muffled noises tried their best to be heard from behind the stuffed pillow case.
His eyes shot as wide as they could as a hand grabbed his penis and pulled, and to his utter horror, the other hand swung the large knife hard and fast, with enough power to completely severe his member from his body.
It was too much. His eyes rolled back in his head as he passed out. His final thoughts were not of his family, but of never being able to see that woman naked again.
There was an incredible amount of blood pulsating out of the wound. A small geyser. And more was to follow as with surgeon-like dexterity, the hands moved to his throat and not only sliced it open, but with all their strength, and the power of the tool, they cut all the way through.
The intruder’s eyes shot to the bathroom door. The sound of the shower was still going. The faint sound of humming was gentle against the harshness of the water hitting the tiled floor.
The intruder slipped in. The steam gave off a blurry dream-like view of a gorgeous naked woman.
For a second the intruder was taken aback. It was unexpected. Head tilted to the side taking it all in.
Then, gripping tightly to the knife handle, the intruder lunged and buried the knife deep into the woman’s stomach. In shock, the woman pulled away only for the very act to slice open even more. Like a machine, the knife-wielding arm pulled out and plunged back in again repeatedly like a macabre piston.
The water around her feet turned red. Then the broken body collapsed into the swirling water as more than bloody-liquid now escaped down the drain.
The intruder stepped back. Hands dripped with blood. Carefully, the intruder removed their clothing, and used the herbal-enriched soap to scrub away any blood or body-matter.
The intruder took their time. Only a fool rushed from the scene. Inside the intruder’s body was a beating heart. In fact, it was racing. Not through fear of getting caught, but simply through the very act they’d performed. It was amazing and beyond all expectation. A hundred times more satisfying than any sexual escapade.
The intruder put on Carl’s clothes and bagged up their own to take away. There was an electric charge as the intruder was covered in the clothes of a dead man. Again, it was another additional pleasure.
With a final look around the cabin, the intruder was satisfied, and slipped out into the night unnoticed.
This was only the beginning.
Little Miss Evil
Chapter 30 - Jenny
S he stood outside feeling completely lost. She didn’t want to go back to the cabin alone. She’d never be able to sleep. She thought about reading more of her book, but wasn’t sure she’d be able to concentrate.
It wasn’t Nat nor Meg’s fault. They’d both found themselves men. On a level she was jealous. What did she have? A guy who was a liar, and another who was a sleazebag. Talk about the devil and the deep blue sea!
She just wanted some sort of excitement in her life. She was sobering up now and the only thing she felt was regrets. Maybe she should let loose. Get another drink down her and dance with the next man who asked her. But just as quickly as she thought about it, she knew deep down that it would never happen.
“You okay?” A familiar voice came from behind. She turned and saw Nat. Her best friend had twice now left her new boyfriend to come and find her. That was really special, and it only brought on the waterworks.
Before she knew it, Nat had pulled her head into her ample bosoms, and she was sobbing into them.
“It’s okay, Jenny-Wren,” Nat soothed, and stroked her hair in a gentle maternal way.
Jenny composed herself, and pulled away. “I’m sorry, Nat. It’s just… I…” and she was lost for words. Not because they wouldn’t form, but because she wasn’t sure exactly what to say, to be able to convey to her friend why she was feeling the way she was.
“I’m sorry, Jen,” Nat said softly. “We came away together, and instead Meg and I have abandoned you. Hooking up with the guys. It was thoughtless.”
“No, no,” Jenny tried to wave it off. She was right, but to hear it out loud made her feel incredibly selfish. “You and Meg should have fun.”
“Did I hear my name?” Meg appeared, all drunken smiles and swaying. Behind her came the three lads.
Meg’s smile dropped when she realised that Jenny was upset.
“Jenny, what’s happened”
Jenny glanced at the guys and pulled herself together. “Nothing, Meg. It’s me. I’m being stupid.”
Meg embraced her too.
Brett began to whoop. “Now that is what I’m talking about!”
The girls should probably have been cross, but in that moment, it lightened the mood, and instead they laughed.
“Look, it’s hot in there,” Brett said when the girls pulled apart, and he decided the show was over. “Why don’t we get some beers, go to the fire pit and tell stories?”
“The fire pit?” Meg said.
Max then spoke up with little enthusiasm. “Yeah, I found it this morning when I was out taking a walk.”
“You just said you were hot, and now you want to light a fire?” Meg pointed out. Jenny felt a bit better with the banter.
Brett shrugged like he really didn�
��t care. “It was hot in there, and obviously I’m hot all the time,” he winked. “And the temperature is dropping a touch and…”
Adam jumped in. “What goes better with cabins than campfires!”
“He’s got a point!” Nat agreed. And somehow to Jenny, walking out into the woods with three men they hardly knew and drinking more alcohol seemed like a really good idea.
Meg and Nat were nodding and smiling, and with no objections from Jenny it was decided.
The temperature was dropping now. It was still warm, but night insisted on cooling them off a touch.
They walked back to the guys’ cabin to get the alcohol. Adam shot inside first, a sudden importance taking over him.
“What’s up with him?”
Brett shook his head and said with a cheeky grin, “He’s probably putting his magazines away!” He threw a glance at Max who nodded in agreement but looked like he wasn’t sure what all the fuss was about.
Brett leaned to the girls. “He’s a bit sensitive sometimes!”
Jenny thought it was sweet that he cared.
They all piled in to see Adam stuffing his holdall with stuff.
“What ya doin’, bud?” Brett said loudly.
Adam looked up slightly embarrassed, and said, “Just tidying up. You know, for guests.”
Brett turned to them. “See, such a thoughtful guy!”
Then as was the way with men, the simple task at hand seemed to take an age. But there was something quite comforting about watching the lads interact. For all their laddish behaviour – specifically Brett – there was a mutual respect among them. If you peeled away the one-upmanship, then you were left with three good friends who would do anything for each other.
Jenny decided that was a good thing.
Although, perhaps that just meant that if one of them did something wrong the others would help them get away with it. Two alibis on tap.