Sweet Oblivion

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Sweet Oblivion Page 13

by Rhiana Ramsey


  As if she was reading his mind, Mina chose that moment to reveal a silver knife, the blade long and sharp; it looked like a boning knife. She grinned and laughed as Mark began to struggle violently against the restraints strapping him to the bed, his breath escaping in grunts at his efforts. Mina dropped down onto his chest, holding the knife within inches of his right eye. He stopped moving.

  ‘That’s better,’ she whispered, ‘no one likes a coward.’

  She taunted him, repeatedly moving the knife closer to his eye and then dramatically pulling it away. Tears started to form in Mark’s eyes, sweat beaded on his brow.

  ‘You fucking pathetic creature,’ she snarled, ‘look at you! Think a dick makes you a man do you? Fucking joke, that’s what you are, all of you.’

  She moved down his body, the knife trailing down his chest but not cutting the skin. She took hold of his manhood in her left hand and tugged at it playfully. It remained limp in her hand.

  ‘Imagine, if I’d had one of these, my life may have been totally different. What do you reckon? Do you think he would have left me alone?’ she asked Mark, touching the knife gently to her pouting lips.

  Mark grunted and tried to scream, but the ball gag prevented him from making any coherent sound.

  ‘I can’t hear you!’ Mina mocked in a sing-song voice. ‘This is for all the years of pain and suffering.’

  She pushed the knife deeply into the tender skin underneath Mark’s testicles, then tugged the knife up towards his penis in a semi-circular motion. Mark cried out in agony, the sound muted and terrible from behind the gag, his body started to shake with adrenalin.

  He tried desperately to free himself from the ligatures binding his wrists and ankles, the ropes biting into his flesh.

  Mina withdrew the knife. ‘I’ll finish that later,’ she said.

  She got off the bed, Mark rolled his head to look at her, his eyes wide, tears trickling down his cheeks. His mind was reeling. He knew he was going to die. He thought it was supposed to be a moment of clarity and serenity, the moment before you slipped form this world into the next. That’s what people said wasn’t it?

  But all Mark Faversham could feel as he lay there, blood draining from the gash between his legs, was the pain, the burning, overwhelming pain. His eyelids felt heavy. He guessed it wouldn’t take him too long to bleed to death.

  Mina moved to the head of the bed and looked at Mark’s face; he forced himself to focus on her as he felt himself drifting into unconsciousness. From under half-closed lids, as his body bled and his life was slipping away, Mark saw Mina raise her arm above her head. He could just make out the point of a metallic object as she drove it down towards his eyeball. He felt his eye pop as the orb was forced into his skull.

  And then, thankfully, sweet oblivion.

  Chap XVI

  Today was going to be different she’d decided. Today, she was not going to take it lying down. Literally. Today she would fight and protest and she would keep doing it until he left her alone. She didn’t care if he hit her, as she knew he inevitably would, she was going to make him see. She was older now and stronger and she’d endured this for long enough. That bastard was going to get what he deserved.

  She’d been working on her implement for weeks and she knew exactly where she was going to put it. She was almost looking forward to his visit. During one of the nights he had kept her locked up, she’d managed to prise off one of the metal struts that supported the middle of the bed; the bed that represented fear and pain, the bed she’d come to hate.

  She’d made her hands raw as she’d twisted and turned the metal support, wriggling around under the bed trying to get purchase as it slipped against her sweaty palms. She’d needed to be quick; he could be back at any moment. It had taken her three days to get it free, spending a few minutes on it at a time between the visits he’d arranged for her.

  She remembered the feeling of exaltation as it had finally snapped; she’d held it against her chest and cried with relief. She’d been clever and removed the one from the middle of the bed so that he wouldn’t see, then she’d hidden it under the mattress. It had given her a feeling of power knowing it was there, even when they were doing those things to her.

  Then she’d needed to sharpen it. It wasn’t much use to her blunt. She could have tried to smack him over the head with it, but she knew she wasn’t strong enough to inflict any pain on him that way. What she needed was a nice sharp, jagged edge.

  So, she’d spent hours twisting and grinding the metal against the concrete floor beneath the bed so he wouldn’t see the marks on the floor; hours of blood, sweat and tears had been spent honing the sharp metal point she had crafted.

  And now she was satisfied she could inflict some damage, give him some serious pain, just like he’d given her over the years.

  Now she was ready to kill him.

  Chap XVII

  Louise hated doctor’s surgeries almost as much as she hated hospitals. She hated the smell of the strong antiseptic most medical establishments used, that pervasive and cloying smell which seemed to scream: ‘They’re all sick or dying, but don’t worry! I’ll protect you from their evil germs!’

  Admittedly the GP’s surgery didn’t smell like that, but Louise’s dislike of doctors was so intense she almost believed it did. She glanced around the waiting room eyeing up her fellow patients, wondering how many of them were genuinely ill, how many thought they were ill and how many just wanted a day off work.

  What category do you fall in?

  It had taken her all her courage to call the surgery first thing that morning to make an appointment with Dr Ross, her assigned doctor who she had only visited once in the last three years. Now she sat there, legs tightly crossed, trying not to bite her fingernails.

  Also in the waiting room was a young woman with a baby girl (I wonder… immunisations?); a young man with a terrifying cough (smoking?); a teenage couple looking even more scared than Louise (pregnant?); a middle-aged man with an enormous stomach who wheezed every time he moved (obesity!); a collection of elderly people talking amongst themselves (the ravages of old age…) and Louise (fruit-loop, head case, lunatic and mad woman…).

  The baby girl started crying, loud, ear-splitting shrieks. Her young mother cooed softly, whilst caressing the girl’s face and gently bouncing the infant on her knees. Louise couldn’t help but smile; the scene was touching. A young mother tending to her offspring, clearly concerned about her child’s health and welfare.

  Louise didn’t remember much about her own mother, but she did recall that her mother had often seemed sad. On the rare occasions Louise had seen her smile, her smile had been beautiful. Her ‘second mum,’ as she’d called her foster mother, had been kind and patient with Louise, trying to help her settle in with her new family, trying to open Louise’s eyes and make her see that she was wanted. Louise recognised this now as an adult, but at the time she had felt alone, abandoned and burdensome; she had cynically told herself that nobody wanted her and she was only with the foster family because they were getting money for her.

  She had fallen out with her foster parents many years ago, although Louise didn’t remember what over, and they’d lost all contact with each other. Louise hadn’t bothered to try and resurrect a relationship with either of her foster parents; did that make her ungrateful?

  ‘Mr McEvoy! Room three please!’ the sprightly receptionist chirruped out from behind the reception desk.

  The man with the huge stomach rose and wheezed his way down the corridor.

  At the sound of the receptionist’s voice, Louise’s heart had leapt, afraid she was about to be called next. She regretted coming, wanting to be anywhere than where she currently was, but she had promised Ben. Besides it couldn’t do any harm to discuss her visions with a professional, could it? The one in the kitchen on Saturday had been the last straw. It had seemed so real, felt so terrifying. She could still hear the man’s malign laughter echoing in her head.

  Even mo
re concerning than the vision itself was the fact that she couldn’t remember what she’d done after leaving the flat. She knew she’d driven for a while because her petrol tank had only been half full when she had returned home in the early hours of Sunday morning and she’d last filled the car up when she had only been a half hour drive from home after returning from Cornwall.

  However, where she’d been and what she’d done escaped her. Blackouts on top of visions.

  How lucky am I? Maybe it’s epilepsy?

  That’s why you’re here Lou, to get the doc’s expert opinion.

  But what if he says I’m mad and sections me like they did mum?

  Isn’t it better to know one way or another?

  Dunno…

  Louise sighed. The baby girl was still crying and her mother was starting to get embarrassed as some of the other patients began to tutt unhelpfully. Louise glared at some of them, feeling her own misery brimming and tears beginning to well in her eyes.

  ‘It’s not the baby’s fault,’ she said out loud. ‘She has no control, bless her.’

  She smiled at the child and the young mother smiled back at Louise grateful for the support. A couple of the older patients turned away from Louise and resumed their conversations.

  It’s not her fault, it’s not your fault, it’s not her fault, it’s not your fault, it’s not your fault, it’s not your fault, it’s not your fault….

  Although Louise knew it wasn’t her fault that Steve had cheated on her, she couldn’t help but think that maybe she had pushed him towards Melissa, or at least away from herself. If she was honest, she hadn’t always been nice to him, she’d been difficult and pedantic, but she just couldn’t help herself. She knew it was only because she was subconsciously testing him, to see how much of her shit he would take before he ran away. They always ran away, eventually. That was why she needed to test them out first, see whether the next one would abandon her like the last one, like her father, like her mother, like everyone she’d ever known. As Louise sat there in the doctor’s surgery, weeping softly to herself, she felt lost and alone. So alone.

  Shifting to sit up straight in her seat, she sniffed the last tears away and wiped the moisture from her cheeks. Fuck it. So Steve had cheated - she’d survive without him. So Melissa had stolen her man - she’d get what she deserved in the end.

  Louise realised that there was little point worrying and ruing the things that were beyond her control. She couldn’t turn back time and she couldn’t take away the pain Steve had caused her. But she could carry on and she could show him and that bitch, that they would not break her. Louise smiled to herself as she hardened her resolve.

  No pity, no fear and no weakness.

  ‘Miss Jackson! Room 1 please!’ the receptionist called out.

  Louise stood up, smoothed herself down and then headed for the front door. At the reception desk she smiled at the happy receptionist.

  ‘Sorry to waste the doctor’s time. I suddenly feel much better,’ she said, pulling up her collar and stepping out into the morning sunshine. The receptionist watched her leave, dumbfounded.

  Nothing wrong with you girl - nothing at all.

  ************************************************

  ‘Derek, can you come into my office please?’ Ben Matthews poked his head into the writers’ office.

  Five writers, including Derek Cooper, were currently in the room taping away on their keyboards; they all stopped and looked up as Ben spoke.

  Quickly, realising that Ben did not have a general communication to give them, the writers looked at each other, shrugged and then continued typing. Obviously on a roll, Ben mused. Derek hit ctrl, alt, delete and locked his machine as he got up slowly to follow the boss into his office.

  Ben preceded Derek into his office and sat down; Derek followed his example and sat across from Ben, the large glass desk separating them. Ben moved a large bundle of files from the desk so as better to see Derek and, therefore, ameliorate communication, something he had learnt from Louise and her knowledge of body language.

  Although he had rehearsed what he was going to say over and over in his head all night and on his journey into work this morning, Ben was unsure how best to launch the conversation.

  Derek sat looking at him, his eyes enlarged by the thick lenses of the glasses he wore perched on the tip of his nose. His greying hair was wild and unruly, tufts protruding from behind his ears where he’d tried unsuccessfully to gel it back; his forehead was high, giving him the air of lofty intellect and his eyes were sharp and bright. Derek looked every bit the stereotypical eccentric writer. Derek shifted in his seat and then spoke, tired of waiting for Ben to begin:

  ‘Would it help you if I say I know why you’ve brought me in here?’

  Ben was taken aback. ‘I‘m sorry?’

  ‘The whole country is in a recession, with virtually no industry untouched, cut backs and redundancies abound. I presume you’ve brought me in here to sack me.’

  Ben sat open-mouthed, wondering how in the world Derek had deduced the purpose of the meeting.

  ‘How did…?’ Ben began.

  ‘I’ve been paying attention. You’ve been growing gradually more tired looking, you’ve been snappy and rude to most of the staff, obviously something’s been on your mind. And I noticed you called two private meetings with your little shining star, Louise. You would only let your gentle manners slip if the problem you faced was seemingly insurmountable, and you would only summon Louise if you needed her help, in this instance I’m guessing it was to help you decide who to sack. Now, I wonder why I’m here sitting opposite you?’ Derek said coolly, a slight sneer tugging at his top lip.

  Ben was astounded at Derek’s perspicacity.

  ‘You are right that I have brought you in here to offer you redundancy. The company is failing and I am being forced to make sacrifices if the business is to stay afloat. You are very perceptive, but you’re wrong about Louise. Yes, I did tell her about the magazine’s problems and I did ask her to give me an indication as to who she thought we could afford to loose, but the ultimate decision is mine and mine alone. This is my company and I accept full responsibility for who I have decided to let go,’ Ben replied.

  ‘Ah,’ Derek clearly didn’t believe him, ‘so what’s going to happen to the little angel? Who else has she decided needs to vacate the premises?’

  Ben was unimpressed.

  ‘Derek, I don’t appreciate your tone or insinuation. Louise will remain on staff, but there are nineteen other people that I have the unfortunate task of dismissing today. This is difficult for all of us. You are not being singled out for any reason other than that your personal performance record is inferior to that of others working for this publication. It is with a heavy heart that I have to let you go.’

  Derek shook his head.

  ‘‘Have to let me go’. It sounds like I’ve got a choice, when I clearly haven’t. Why not just have some balls Ben and tell me you’re sacking me, none of this euphemistic bullshit designed to placate me and soothe my ego. I’m a big boy, I can take the truth. Louise wanted me out didn’t she?’

  ‘Jesus Derek, what is it between you two? She was promoted six months ago because she is of superior calibre, it was nothing personal.’

  ‘Yeah, until you two got involved. Everybody thinks she got promoted over me because you two were, shall we say, fornicating,’ Derek sneered.

  ‘I do not have to explain myself to you or defend my honour against your spurious and malicious accusations. Get your stuff and leave. You needn’t bother submitting your last assignment,’ Ben said, his voice rising on a par with his anger.

  ‘I’ll go Ben, but I want to know what my redundancy package is. You can’t just kick me out because you’re failing and not provide some form of recompense.’

  ‘You’ll be getting four months’ pay up front.’

  ‘Not bad. Thank you boss - oh sorry, you no longer merit that title do you? I’ll get my things and be gone by lu
nch.’

  Derek rose and looked as though he was about to leave, when he turned suddenly and said: ‘Any chance you can give little miss sunshine a message from me Ben? Tell her she’ll get what’s coming to her, would you? She may think she can come in here, throw her weight around, sashay about barking orders, raise her skirt for the boss in order to get what she wants, but in the long run, those who deserve shall reap the rewards.’ Derek smiled and strode out of the office before Ben had a chance to reply.

  ‘What the…?’ Ben was shocked.

  Ben wearily rubbed the back of his neck and let out a deep breath, shaking his head in amazement at the man‘s gall. Now he understood what Louise meant about arrogance. Derek Cooper really was an arsehole.

  ‘Good riddance,’ he muttered under his breath.

  One down, nineteen to go. He hoped they wouldn’t all get as personal as Derek, although Ben did anticipate a full spectrum of emotions to be played out in his office today.

  God he felt tired, and miserable, and mean, and loathsome. The harbinger of doom, as portrayed by Ben Matthews. He reached forward and grabbed the telephone on his desk, punching in a single digit.

  ‘Jenny, it’s Ben. Can you please come up and see me in my office? Yes right now please.’ He hung up and leant back in his chair.

  He wondered briefly how Louise was getting on at the Doctor’s, assuming she had actually gone. He would call her at lunch time and find out. Even though it was Ben himself who had practically ordered Louise to go to the doctor’s that morning, he really wished she was here with him. He could do with an ally.

 

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