In the Devil's Name

by Dave Watson

  Griff was dressed in plain white pyjamas, and could have been a regular hospital patient except for the heavy duty glass partition that ran the breadth of the small room, separating us, and the fact that he was securely strapped into a wheeled restraint chair. Thick plastic belts in metal housings ran across his forehead, shoulders, lap, wrists and ankles, binding him tightly to the heavily padded seat. Despite the impressive array of restraints, a hulking orderly stood against the wall behind Griff, keeping a close eye on him. For some reason, the big guy looked extremely nervous.

  There was a small microphone and speaker set up on either side of the glass which enabled communication between visitors and patients.

  “I got your letter,” I said into the mic as I sat down.

  “Good show,” Griff responded jovially from his side of the safety partition. “Normally, I wouldn’t be allowed visitors, but some of the guys in here are alright, especially when my dad slips them a few extra grand. This one here,” he said, rolling his eyes backward in the direction of the orderly who stood guard, “he’s a bit of a prick though. Aren’t you, ya big fanny?”

  The orderly flinched, but didn’t respond.

  “How’s your arm?” Griff asked me.

  “Better now. I’ve got a peach of a scar.”

  This was surreal. It was like nothing had happened. We were just two mates, shooting the breeze.

  “So what’s your plan then? You still going to uni?”

  I shook my head.

  “I don’t know. Things are a bit different now, Griff.”

  He smiled, revealing teeth that looked too big for his mouth.

  “Mate, you’ve no idea. None whatsoever, my man.”

  “Enlighten me then, Griff," I said, leaning forward. "What the fuck happened down there in the caves? Is your head just screwed up now? Or is that a daft question? Here you are, locked up in a nuthouse for the rest of your days. You tried to kill me, ya dick!”

  Griff’s eyes locked on mine, and he grinned. His teeth were definitely too big.

  “But you’re still alive, aren’t you?” he said quietly. “Depending on your point of view, this is either a good thing or a bad thing.”

  “How could me being alive be a bad thing?” I asked.

  “Because this isn’t over until you, and a fuckload of other people, are dead,” he replied.

  The hairs stirred up on my arms and the back of my neck.

  Griff continued staring at me and grinning, obviously intentionally displaying his unnaturally overgrown teeth. He began to draw in long breaths through his nose. I shuddered, remembering that night when I’d been hiding beneath the uprooted tree in the woods with Griff outside, naked and covered in blood. Hunting me. Sampling the night air with those long inhalations like a perfumer analysing a fine cologne.

  “Ah, there it is,” he whispered. “Even through this glass. Have you shat yourself, Phil? Because I can smell how fucking scared you are.”

  “You’re not Hannibal Lecter, Griff so give it a fuckin’ rest,” I said, completely terrified and thinking he was very much like Hannibal Lecter with the multiple restraints and penchant for consuming human flesh. “What happened in the caves?” I asked again, trying to take control of the conversation, such as it was.

  For the first time, his grin faded and he looked at me seriously.

  “We changed, Phil,” he said.

  “Cairnsey stop it! It’s the fuckin’ trips, man,” a voice shouted.

  On the beach outside the entrance to the caves, Eddie Jannets, Bunny Kerr and John McCabe hesitated.

  More cries and sounds of a struggle could be heard from within the dark opening in the cliff face.

  “Get a grip, mate. These trips are fuckin’ with our heads big time. We need to get Phil up and get out of here, alright?” the voice yelled.

  Jannets smiled ghoulishly.

  “Perfect. They’re all fucked,” he said, drawing the machete from his jacket.

  The shouts from inside the caves now degenerated into strange cries that increased in pitch till they were shrill, horrible screams that made Bunny take a step back.

  “What the fuck’s goin’ on in there?” he asked nervously.

  “Who gives a shit?” Jannets hissed. “This’ll be easy. Let’s go.” And he strode forward into the darkness.

  Bunny and McCabe exchanged a doubtful look and remained where they were.

  “Get your fuckin’ arses in here or I’ll be takin’ this steel to you cunts as well,” Jannets’ voice came out of the tunnel, menacing and full of bloody promise.

  They followed him inside the cave tunnel, trying to blank out the terrible wails that were emanating from somewhere deeper in the darkness ahead.

  The scene that greeted them in the candlelit chamber at the end of the tunnel froze them in confusion.

  One guy was lying motionless on the floor, looking like he was asleep, but the other three were rolling around on the ground, clutching their faces and stomachs and screaming those awful screams. Bunny recognised Cairns; the one Jannets had primarily come for.

  “What the fuck…” Bunny gasped, and abruptly, the screams stopped as one.

  For a moment, there was complete stillness as the three guys on the floor regarded the newcomers with a strange expression, then Jannets let out a roar and rushed at Cairns, the machete held high. Cairns grinned and charged towards him, seemingly eager for the fight.

  It all happened so fast, Bunny couldn’t even move at first.

  Cairns had seemed to fucking fly off of the floor, and at the same time, another one of the young guys had sprang at McCabe, who was standing just in front of Bunny.

  He saw Cairns grab the hand that Jannets held the machete with, and somehow twist his arm in a movement so fast it barely registered, but there was an audible snap as the wrist gave way, and the machete clattered to the stone floor. Even as Jannets drew in breath to scream, Cairns had the machete in his own hand, and in a blur of motion, swept it across his throat…

  “You should have seen it, Phil,” Griff said to me. “It was as if Cairnsey just unzipped that cunt’s neck. Like he was opening a beanbag… it was beautiful. They were there for Cairnsey as well. Guess Jannets wanted some payback for the kicking he gave him and brought McCabe and Kerr along with him. Funny how it all turned out.”

  I could only sit there in shocked, rapt silence as Griff gleefully described the slaughter in vivid detail.

  Bunny stood frozen in shock as Cairns hacked again at Jannets even as he was falling to the ground, the machete biting deep into his neck. McCabe was on the ground, struggling with the other guy who’d jumped at him in a tangle of limbs and flailing fists. The third guy was still crouched on the ground, close to the other unconscious figure on the floor, watching with a weird expression like he wasn’t sure what to do.

  Then Cairns abandoned his attack on Jannets, who was now without question dead, and joined the melee on the floor at Bunny’s feet, grabbing McCabe’s head and pulling back, then unbelievably, sinking his teeth into his neck while the other guy was raking at his eyes. McCabe let out a piercing shriek of pain and terror, and this broke Bunny's paralysis. He ran over to Jannets' lifeless body and pulled the machete from his neck, letting loose a tide of blood which immediately began to pool on the stone surface of the cave. With a horrified cry of his own he ran back to where Cairns and his mate were now tearing at McCabe’s stomach with their teeth as he kicked and squealed in panic.

  Bunny brought the machete down hard, burying the blade in the back of Cairns' head. He went stiff and then slumped down on McCabe's writhing body…

  “So you see, I told you the truth,” Griff said to me. “I didn’t kill Cairnsey. Bunny Kerr did. I was busy trying to kill McCabe. That’s when Sam left you. He was the last one to turn. He was still protecting you while all this was going on. But there was so much blood, mate. So much. And that’s when he got hungry.”

  As Bunny struggled to free the machete blade from Cairns’ head, the oth
er guy attacking McCabe was sitting on his chest and smashing his head against the stone floor. The noise was sickening. Bunny gave up trying to free the weapon from Cairns’ bloody split cranium, and kicked out desperately at McCabe’s assailant, catching him on the cheek and knocking him off to the side. Then there was a growl from behind him, and he only managed to half turn around before he felt a terrible pain in his side. He managed to turn all the way around, and the third guy who’d been crouched in the corner by the one who was apparently sleeping now stood in front of him, smiling. Bunny screamed as his attacker twisted the knife in his ribs then savagely pushed it sideways, opening up his belly from the side just above his left hip through to his navel.

  The guy withdrew the knife and stepped back, a thoughtful, appreciative look on his face, like he was admiring a painting or a sunset.

  Bunny looked down and saw his intestines bulge out from the opening in his gut. A warm flood of blood poured down his lower body, pooling around his feet. His legs gave out under him, and he sank to the wet red floor, whimpering. Off to his left side, he saw McCabe was now dead. The guy who’d been smashing his head on the ground now had his head buried in his mate’s stomach cavity. Bunny was reminded of a nature programme showing a lion at a kill.

  The last thing he saw was the blade of the knife rushing at his eye.

  There was pain he hadn’t imagined possible, then he felt no more.

  “After Sam killed Kerr,” Griff said, “we dragged the four bodies back into the other chamber and hacked them up with Jannets’ machete. Then we started eating. After a while, we heard you back in the killing floor and chased you through the woods, but you already know that part, right? After you knocked me out back at the campsite, which I must say, I’m a bit miffed about, I woke up, found Sam dead, and thought that you were too from all the blood you were lying in.

  I got to work on Sam with the machete so I wouldn’t have to carry his body in one piece back down to the caves, then the cops showed up as I was taking a sneaky wee nibble.” He let out a chuckle at this point.

  “That cop didn’t know what hit him. I was on him before they knew what was happening. Split his head down the middle like I was chopping wood. Then the other one brained me with his baton and I was out for the count. And now here we are.”

  He shifted slightly in his restraint chair, as much as the tightly fastened straps would allow, and went on.

  "See, I’m not the same anymore, Phil,” he said. “I’m barely human these days. If I see meat, I’ll eat it if I can, and I’m not talking about spare ribs or sirloins. There’s a doctor in here with a couple of fingers missing because he was careless. But I’m not crazy, and this isn’t because of the trips. The trip finished as soon as the hunger kicked in. That’s the way it works.

  "Have you noticed my teeth, Phil?” he asked. “‘Course you have. The doctors here can’t explain that. They also can’t explain why all the fuckin’ antipsychotics they’ve been pumping into me aren’t working. They keep trying though, bless them. They’ve tried Clozapine, Risperidone, Olanzapine, about ten other kinds, and a bunch of other shit that’s not even legal. They keep increasing the doses as well. Anyone else on the planet would be a drooling zombie with the amount of shit they’ve injected me with, but me? Not so much as a yawn, and they’re totally freaking out! It’s funny watching their faces when I suggest another type of drug. I’ll be telling them ‘Bring on the Bifeprunox!’ or ‘Gimme a billion cc’s of Vabicaserin, stat!’ It’s a gas fucking with them.” He chuckled to himself again.

  “They can’t explain why there was no trace of LSD in my system when they tested me either,” he continued. “Of course, they won’t tell anyone any of this stuff. My old man, prick that he is, is pumping serious amounts of dough into the pockets of the guys that run this place, but aside from that, they’re fucking embarrassed! Can you believe it? All those years spent in medical school, and they’re completely clueless when it comes to yours truly. I’m a fuckin’ medical marvel, dude.” Griff laughed again, obviously enjoying himself. The orderly standing watch was looking at him with wide terrified eyes and visibly trembling.

  "The best bit though,” Griff said to me in a conspiratorial whisper, “is still to come. Very soon, they’ll come to my room one morning to try out some new drug, and I’ll be offski. Gone. Vanished into thin air.”

  “Is that right?” I asked, trying to put a condescending tone of sarcasm into my voice, but failing. My words squeaked out, and I knew I sounded every bit as scared as I was. As outlandish as his claim of impending escape was, I believed him.

  “You’re damn skippy that’s right, mate,” he said with complete self assurance. “I’m coming home, and I’m going to treat the place like an all you can eat buffet. I’m going to kill and eat the fuck out of a whole lot of people, including you. Then it’ll be over. Only then."

  How do you respond to that?

  “Why?” was all I could manage.

  He just laughed.

  “Unpaid debts, Phil. It wasn’t random.”

  “Not random?” I said, baffled.

  “It was meant to be us, mate. It got a little screwed up with Jannets, Bunny Kerr and John McCabe turning up like they did, but it was meant to be us. You’ll see that in time. Or maybe you won’t. Maybe I’ll find you and tear your throat out before you even get the faintest idea of what’s going on.”

  I sat there shaking my head, at a complete loss. He was still smiling, purposefully showing off those big white overgrown teeth.

  All the better to eat you with, my dear I thought, and immediately wished I hadn’t.

  “Tell you what, mate,” Griff said. “I’ll give you a clue. Check the call register on Cairnsey’s mobile from the night at Bennane Head. See what you think.”

  We sat in silence for a moment, just staring at each other through the thick partition glass. Then his smile faded, and Griff started slowly gnashing his too-large teeth together in deliberate, evenly spaced intervals. The hard, sharp noise of it was very loud coming through the small speaker on my side of the glass, and I couldn’t help but flinch at each bite.

  Snap

  Snap

  Snap

  Snap

  I realised he was doing it in time with the ticking of the clock on the wall behind me. He was counting off seconds.

  Then his eyes changed. Like two expanding ink stains, the black of his pupils fluidly spread outward in widening circles, covering the irises and the whites until his eyes were dead black; glistening shark like orbs.

  Snap

  Snap

  Snap

  Snap went his teeth.

  With an inarticulate noise of shock, I bolted up from my seat and backed away from the glass, gasping for air in big panicky gulps.

  What I’d just witnessed was impossible.

  I turned and put my hand on the door handle, badly frightened and wanting to be as far away as possible from this thing that my friend had somehow become.

  “Thanks for coming, Phil,” he softly called out behind me. “And say hello to your brother for me.”

  As I left the visiting room, I heard him start to rhythmically gnash his jaws together again, biting off the seconds. Until what, I didn’t want to know.

  Snap

  Snap

  Snap

  Snap

  Chapter 24

  As I rushed through the reception area towards the exit, itching to be away from the place, a voice called out behind me. I turned and saw a tall, well groomed man in a white medical smock walking towards me, anxiety written all over his face.

  “Mr Densmore,” he said extending a manicured hand. “I’m Steve Hetherington, the doctor in charge of your friend’s case.”

  I just stared at him. He withdrew his hand awkwardly when I didn’t reciprocate the gesture.

  “I understand you may be a little confused by your friend’s behaviour,” Hetherington said. “He’s a very sick boy, and we’re doing all we can to help him.”


  “His teeth,” I said numbly. “His eyes…”

  “Side effects of the medication he’s on,” Hetherington said brusquely, avoiding my eyes. “The drugs can sometimes cause receding of the gums, making it appear that his teeth are somewhat oversized, and it’s not uncommon for the pigmentation of the irises to appear altered. Again, these are merely side effects of…”

  “You’re a lying cunt,” I said simply. “How much is Des Griffiths paying you to keep all this wrapped up? I know what I saw, and I’ve known Dean Griffiths for years. Don’t tell me…”

  “I can assure you that that is not the case,” Hetherington blustered, too quickly, “and frankly, I’m offended that you would accuse me of negligence and bribe taking. These are serious allegations, Mr Densmore.”

  He was trying to come off as indignant and intimidating, but the naked lie in his eyes was as visible as the black hunger in Griff’s had been.

  “He says he’s going to escape soon,” I said, more to myself than the officious doctor.

  Hetherington shook his head. “I can guarantee you that that is impossible, Mr Densmore. He is being kept under twenty four hour surveillance and the security here is…”

  “Good luck, doctor,” I said, and left.

  So much for getting some answers.

  I’d held out some hope before the visit that I’d come away from the place with a sense of resolution, and that I could maybe then begin putting my life back together. Instead, the strange situation had now acquired a whole new flavour of crazy, and I was just as scared as I’d ever been. Perhaps more so. On the long return journey back down the coast, for which I had to take two buses and two trains, I couldn’t get the sound of Griff’s clashing jaws or the image of his dead, black eyes out of my head. I tried to tell myself I’d imagined it; that it was just stress, and that Hetherington had been telling the truth about side effects of the medication. These internal arguments weren’t very convincing, however.