The Wallet

by Roger Rapel

  I tried to scream as I attempted to pull back, but the evil had me in its grips there was a coldness running up my arm towards my soul; then I saw wide red eyes penetrating the wall looking at me, a big black shape with evil red eyes was trying to pull me through the wall. I turned my head to look for Tranter, but he had gone to another room, then I heard him come back in, he was laughing his eyes were red his mouth was running with blood as he smiled at me. Then all of a sudden the evil shape let me go. Oh my god was Tranter part of this evil too? I dragged myself away from the wall examining my arm, it was hanging limp from the cold. Then Tranter came towards me ‘oh my god’ he said ‘are you okay you look like you have seen a ghost?’ Tranter was now normal looking not a sign of blood, just normal.

  I had seen enough I had to get outside in the sun to get some warmth to revive my cold dragging arm. I’m not easily frightened, but I just ran out of the house. I hurried out of the street, I ran back to the shop where I had received the warning from the shopkeeper, but there was no shop, it had gone, no awning, no sell anything store, it was now a grocery shop. I pinched myself and stamped my feet to make sure I was on solid ground.

  What was happening to me? Then I remembered the priest giving me the crucifix. I reached into my pocket took it out, kissed it and placed it over my head and let it into my shirt, it felt slightly cold as it touched my skin, but it soon warmed up. I then took the small bottle of holy water and poured a splash into my palm as I slapped it onto my face. I immediately felt better, albeit psychologically, but nonetheless I felt better, my arm was also feeling warmer; I appeared to have suffered no ill effects from the evil-being that tried to drag me through the wall.

  Although the rest of me still couldn’t get warm; then I saw a café across the street so went over and ordered coffee. I sat down as the waitress brought a coffee to me. I said ‘hi miss, tell me was there ever a general store across the street?’ ‘Oh my, that’s going back some time, there used to be, but it closed down when the owner died.’ ‘How far back was that?’ ‘Oh that was some 10-15 years ago now.’ ‘Can you remember his name?’ ‘Yes his name was Sam Brown I think, but it was way before my time; please excuse me I must get on.’ Then the waitress took an order from another customer.

  I sat thinking; as I said to myself, it can’t be I was only in there yesterday; this was getting really creepy. I drank my coffee then went to the local library and looked up the name Sam Brown and his shop. I found an old archived newspaper with his picture standing outside his shop. It was the same man who had given me the warning about Camilla Brown. Was Camilla his relation? Was that why he warned me not to look for her or was the surname Brown a coincidence?

  My mind was going around in circles, what had Christopher stumbled across, more to the point what had I bumped into? I blessed myself again as I thought of the evil that tried to pull me in through the wall when I was in number 66.

  I tried to research the papers to see if I could find anything about number 64, but nothing was written about it.

  There must have been something written about it, but what was the reason for it to be locked up? The bank repossession was rubbish, something occurred to cause it to be boarded up. This was getting to my curious nature.

  I then saw one of the library assistants as she was pushing her trolley full of books to the sections to place them on the shelves in alphabetical order. I excused myself then said ‘sorry Miss, I’m trying to find out some local history about the area, where is the best place to look?’ ‘Oh let me show you,’ she pushed her trolley a few yards then said ‘here you go, this part is a reference section for the town; the State information is further along the row.’ I thanked her and spent the rest of the day researching historical references which highlighted all kinds of events; the good and bad, but nothing on 64, nothing at all, not even any gossip.

  I then went to find the same library assistant and posed the question to her about number 64, The Avenue, her eyes widened as she looked at me in disbelief. ‘Please excuse me sorry I must go, I don’t know anything, sorry.’ That was it she was gone scurrying away like a scalded cat.

  There was nothing for it I went to the local bank, I was determined to find out the truth behind 64, especially the feeling of evil and why both houses either side had been put up for sale at the same time.

  I made an appointment with the manager, I was lucky as he’d had a cancellation that day so was able to see him.

  Mr Fraser sat behind his shiny desk; as I was shown in he said ‘please sit down, now how may I help you?’ ‘I hope you can.’ I had decided to go on a different tack. ‘Yes I was driving by an address today and made enquiries with a realtor as both houses either side were up for sale as well, he told me the middle house was a repossession and I wondered if it might be for sale through the bank, it’s number 64, The Avenue?’ Mr Fraser cut me short, ‘sorry it’s in a family deadlock I can’t help you.’ He stood up and opened the door as he said ‘good day sir.’ That was my cue to go. Why was there a wall of silence surrounding 64? There was no history, no events listed in the local papers; not even a death in the obituary section, but why?

  CHAPTER SIX

  I was even more confused as I went back to see Christopher. He looked a little brighter not much, but a little.

  I asked Christopher if he had slept well. He explained he hadn’t, he had just laid thinking about everything that happened and all the things we had spoken about. He felt exhausted, but wanted to carry on.

  I reminded him of where we left off, about the woman with the bright red hair using him; then the screams. Christopher nodded as he continued talking about those screams. He looked at me with sad eyes he was returning into the state he was in at the conclusion of the last session. He continued with a shaky voice ‘they couldn’t have been actors they were so vivid and so loud.’

  I saw a deep drawn look on Christopher’s face each time he mentioned the screams it was sending shivers down his spine. He continued; ‘Camilla came back in with yet more food I mentioned the screams again to her, she said she would get the actors to tone it down a bit.’

  ‘It seemed to work as I only occasionally heard muffled sounds nothing like the blood curdling screams as before.’ He looked at me shaking his head then carried on.

  ‘I began to sleep better and felt I was getting stronger especially with the good food Camilla was feeding me. I finally managed to get out of bed on my own and made it to the wardrobe where I found some clothes, not mine, but they looked as though they may fit. In a couple more days when I felt stronger I would put them on and get out of this place.’ His eye’s widened as he carried on ‘my poor Helga must have been going out of her head with worry.’

  Christopher took another sip of water then continued ‘Camilla kept bringing a succession of women into my bedroom. It was as if she had found a gigolo for all her friends.’ It was the first time I saw him give half a smile as he continued; ‘she must have been getting paid for them to satisfy themselves on me.’

  Christopher coughed as he took another sip of water then continued; ‘the food must have been laced with something; I had been eating good food and should have gotten my strength back a long time ago. Then my thoughts went back to Helga again, she must have been demented with worry, and my work, they must have let me go by now, what was I going to do no one would believe me about being kept captive?’

  After another sip of water and a stretch he said ‘this was the turning point I decided to get up and put some clothes on, I managed to force open the bedroom door; I had at last regained some strength, just enough to negotiate the stairs. Just as I reached the bottom stair the kitchen door opened it was Camilla, she grabbed hold of me then another woman appeared from the kitchen holding a cloth, she came up behind me and held the cloth over my face.’

  I looked at Christopher there was real fear in his eyes as he looked at me; then he continued. ‘I felt myself losing consciousness after the cloth was placed over my face, the chloroform was taking
hold.’

  I could see Christopher was about to start crying his eyes were welling up as he tried to calm himself. I took hold of his hand as a comforting gesture as he nodded at my action. He thanked me for the gesture.

  He took a handkerchief from his pocket as he began to blow his nose then he shook his head as he burst out crying, he was sobbing so deeply, not the sort of crying to gain attention it was heavy and hard to control. I put my arm around him as I had stopped writing by then.

  It took over an hour for him to stop; there was something dramatic he was about to tell me, but what it was I had no idea. All I could do was comfort him for now. I left him whilst I made some coffee. I then sat down in front of him as we drank from the paper cups. He explained the next bit was difficult and he was sorry for his outburst. Christopher went on to say he had been explaining all this to the detective officer, but he sat with a poker face not believing any of it.

  I looked at Christopher as I had the same feeling he was just telling a story, but what was he building up to? It made no sense, him a sex slave after being a Good Samaritan, it was so fanciful. It was a good porn story and would be a good film. It would make a better script than the TV repair man or the plumber shagging some nubile housewife who opened the door with hardly anything on.

  Christopher carried on; ‘the chloroform had worked, I had been unconscious for what seemed like hours or it felt like hours, I had no recollection of time, everything was just a blur. I woke up and found I was bound to a bench or what I could make out was a bench. I was blindfolded and could only see a chink of light. I was also completely naked.’

  Christopher wiped his eyes again as they were watering. Then continued, ‘I heard a snuffling somewhere, but then it stopped, it was then I realised I was gagged as well. I was cold with nothing on, I was absolutely frozen.’

  I saw Christopher preparing to say something as his eyes darted from side to side; his mouth was going dry as he licked his lips, but with no saliva he had to take a drink from his cup to refresh his mouth.

  He carried on; ‘I felt an injection going into my arm, I didn’t know what it was then it became apparent; my groin went into spasm again as I felt the hands of a woman on me; then smelled her scent then he I was used again.’

  Christopher drank some more then carried on. ‘When she finished a cover was thrown over me, which warmed me a little bit, then I dropped off for a while.’

  Christopher was building up to something and was resisting telling me what it was. He coughed then looked me in the eyes. Christopher looked at me, his hands were shaking, he was shivering; then he burst into tears and sobbed his heart out, he sobbed so loudly he couldn’t control himself. What was he so afraid of telling me, what was he hiding? Whatever it was he was keeping it locked up inside him.

  I looked at him, he was so distraught his hair was bedraggled by him continually pushing his hands through it causing it to become greasy and lank; his face was as white as a sheet.

  Christopher explained he was tired, but had to tell me, he couldn’t keep it locked up any longer. ‘Are you ready for this he asked, you won’t be the same afterwards, you won’t be the same, are you ready?’

  I looked at Christopher’s eyes; I was ready, but ready for what?

  Christopher cleared his throat as he sat wringing his hands then carried on; ‘time had gone by, I never knew what hour it was, it was so dark, wherever I was there was no natural light. I presumed I was in a cellar or somewhere similar. At some point earphones had been put over my ears, all he could hear was music, all different types; rock and orchestral. How long I had been in there I had no idea because it was pitch black. Then I saw through a chink in the blindfold that a light had been turned on. Then I heard a blood curdling scream, even above the music in the earphones I heard it, the same one I had heard so many times before, but now it was in the same room, oh my god what was it, it went down deep into my bones. Then I heard it again, but this time more muffled, what was it? I tried to look through the chink but saw nothing.’

  I looked at Christopher, he was just about to burst into tears again, but he carried on. He went on to say ‘Camilla took the earphones off, but left the blindfold and the gag in place.’ He went on to say, ‘I heard the loudest most blood chilling scream I had ever heard, I was now shaking with fear. Then it went quiet. I heard the rattling of something; then it went quiet again.’ He went on with his thoughts about Camilla playing psychological games with him, getting him tensed up then leaving him wondering what was happening. It was working as he went on; ‘I was shaking with fear, what was that blood curdling scream? It must have been a tape recording or something to scare the shit out of me; well it was working. She was playing games with me, but for what? What had I ever done to her? She was some kind of bitch.’

  Then he carried on; ‘the trolley must have been on wheels as I felt myself being pushed through a door and into a kitchen as I smelled food, it smelled really good, my gag was removed as I was sat up and spoon fed a stew of some kind or perhaps goulash or something similar, it tasted really good again.’ Then he went onto say he asked his captors what the screams were they had been so loud. Camilla explained her actor friend loved to scare people. Christopher looked at me as he shook his head from side to side in disbelief.

  Christopher complained about being strapped down on the bench and being used by women for their sexual gratification. Camilla smiled, but said nothing.

  Then he continued, ‘I was pushed back into the room where I had been before. Then I heard another scream, really loud, this was no actor, what was it?’ He went onto say ‘I was just about to find out. The scream got louder and more intense then my blindfold was removed. My eyes were nearly blinded by the light as I scrunched up my eye lids to protect them. Then I heard another loud ear splitting scream, then slowly I opened my eyes which by now had become more accustomed to the light.’

  Christopher was shaking his head his eyes darting from side to side his lips taught over his teeth then he went onto say; ‘I tried to turn my head in the direction of the scream, at first I couldn’t see anything as my eyes hadn’t yet fully focussed. Then as they began to widen the light became less intense. It was then I saw what I thought was a naked woman strapped on a bench, but if it was a woman, she was covered in blood and had open wounds all over her, what was it?’ Then I saw Camilla pick up a carving knife and began to sharpen it. My eyes then fully focussed on the woman, she had gaping wounds all over her she was oozing blood; the floor was covered crimson. She looked over at me her eyes bulging out of their sockets, I could see she wanted to scream, but she had a gag in her mouth.’ Christopher was shaking his head then carried on. ‘When Camilla finished with the steel, she moved so I could see what she was doing, she smiled at me as she took hold of the woman’s blood covered leg and commenced to slice through a chunk of her flesh, then she lifted up the piece of flesh dripping with blood as she placed it into her mouth sucking out the blood, then she brought it over to me; she put it to my face and rubbed it into my mouth. Then she smiled saying ‘this is your dinner.’

  Christopher was physically shaking as he said ‘it was then I had the realisation that Camilla had been feeding me the flesh of the woman; the strange taste was human flesh. I felt so sick that I wretched nearly bringing up my last meal.’

  I looked at Christopher expecting him to laugh, but he was deadly serious he looked back at me as he shook his head and hung it low so his chin rested on his chest, then he burst into tears and sobbed in between breaths, then he blurted it out, ‘I had been fed that woman whilst she was being kept alive, they were keeping her alive to feed me and them.’ Then he looked at me and said ‘do you know how I felt having been fed some cock and bull story about actors rehearsing, then to find out that I had been fed not only a story, but fed her as well. The screaming had been that poor woman being carved up whilst still alive.’

  Christopher then said ‘I can’t talk anymore; come back some other time when I’ve rested.’ Then he
went on to say ‘you have the same look on your face as the detective officer had; the one of disbelief that said what a load of bollocks.’

  Christopher tried to convince me what he had told me was the truth, he pleaded with me to believe him. His words were hard to hear amongst his sobs. I packed up my things and left him crying into his soaking wet handkerchief.

  When I got outside I had to take in copious amounts of air to replenish my lungs, I had been breathing so hard his story had left me empty.

  I stood outside and thought; what the fuck had I just been told, this had to be recorded somewhere, a story like that could never be kept quiet. The FBI or local police must have a record of such an event; this would have made the annals of history as one of the sickest crimes ever. But no matter where I looked there was nothing.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I returned to my apartment and opened up my computer and began checking the FBI’s most infamous killers; I found some really gruesome stuff, there were some real whackos about, but nothing like the revelations told to me by Christopher. His story was right out of some science fiction horror magazine.

  Then I checked the crime files for Ohio, and again there were some nutters about, but nothing like the story being told to me by Christopher.

  I then looked in the local paper to relax and have a break from researching. As I flicked through the pages I came across an advertisement regarding a forensic psychiatrist who specialised in criminal psychology, perhaps he could unravel the mind of Christopher.

  I searched the internet for his website, I found his details. He certainly had some credentials with so many letters after his name it looked like an alphabet.