New Title 1

by R. Frederick Hamilton

  With hindsight, I know I should have interfered again but it wasn’t in my nature. I have my rules to abide by. And the main one is: first and foremost, you go through the proper channels. It’s just unfortunate the proper channels failed me. I should have seen it coming – more and more these days they seem to – but as I said before, I want to see the best in people. It’s my real downfall. For awhile I thought I’d made the right decision. The police rounded up the boys and brought them in for questioning.

  Once more I was disappointed.

  Lack of evidence was the official line. The poor girl was in no condition to testify and the police efforts to garner DNA samples were stymied by the boys’ parents who couldn’t believe their little angels had anything to do with it.

  Unbelievable I know. I suppose I’ll be kind and write it off as the blind love of a parent. Even if in some instances I know for a fact that wasn’t the case. Gotta keep up those appearances – if you know what I mean.

  With the official channels exhausted, I set off on another tack. Instead I went to visit the victim’s father. Unlike the previous victim, this one’s parents were not ashamed. They were not embarrassed by what had happened to their little girl. They didn’t seek to hide it

  She was their only child. Their pride and joy, the apple of their eye etcetera, etcetera. And I know some would say I was wrong to do it but I just couldn’t help it. I gave him a little nudge in the right direction. Sadly, as it turned out, it might have been too much of a nudge. The morning following my visit, as one of The Filmmakers – admittedly a periphery player; he’d watched but not participated; that not really being an excuse – was striding toward the bus stop, a dusty, red Fairlane careened into him at seventy kilometers an hour. The boy, Jenkins, died instantly. Unfortunately the father of the victim, who’d been behind the wheel, lost control moments after hitting him and plowed into a nearby pole. He’s also gone now, although he lasted a little longer than Jenkins. It was internal bleeding that got him.

  He never woke from his coma.

  No doubt you’ve already guessed how horrified I was by the results of my interference. Keep repeating the same old justifications, don’t I? Like they’re some sort of acceptable excuse. All I can ask is that before you judge me, you walk a day in my shoes; see how you would’ve played it.

  Sure, looking back now I’m not entirely certain what I thought the man could have achieved. But I know I didn’t mean for him to kill the boy. It’s just the way it worked out. It’s often hard to predict what my influence will do to a person and, well, I guess you can only live and learn. At least for awhile, as unfortunate as it all was, it seemed to stop The Filmmakers in their tracks.

  I hoped it would last but I knew it was wishful thinking. Sure enough, it didn’t take them long to get back at it. Jenkins was barely in the ground when they struck again.

  The next one was a thirteen year old. A skinny, underdeveloped runt of a girl named Sarah. This one was from out of town. They lured her via the internet. Apparently Matthew had been busy during the brief down time. He’d posed as a uni student on a variety of forums: handsome, kind and desperate for love. Saying he was looking for someone to run away with. Sarah, a girl who’d had a lot of troubles – let’s just say that daddy had roving hands – brought it hook, line and sinker. I must have been a little complacent. You know, certain that the death of one of their buddies would have slowed them down. And, I mean, this wasn’t the only thing on my plate. You need to know that too. I mean, it’s not an excuse but… well I suppose it is an excuse but anyway.

  Before I knew it she was stepping off the bus outside the general store. Matthew was there to meet her. He was bigger than average for his age. He did look like a uni student. And by now he had his patter down to a t.

  He took her back to his house and she was midway through fellating him when the others burst in with the camera. They forced her to continue. This time they were able to get inside and they all took a turn. Between goes they amused themselves, zooming the camera in close on the cum leaking from her pussy, laughing like it was the most hysterical thing they’d ever seen. Then they started on her with the belts and one of the sick fucks even shit in her mouth much to the amusement of his comrades.

  Then the inevitable happened. If you haven’t guessed already, it’s what this has all been building up to. That’s right. They only went and upped the ante once again. I suppose they took it to the only logical conclusion it could build to from here.

  Well at least Matthew did. When they dragged the unconscious Sarah and dumped her out in the scrub, he told the others he’d meet them back at the house. Said he wanted one last go. But sex wasn’t really the thing on his mind. As soon as they were out of view, he reached down and efficiently strangled the girl then ran to catch up with his buddies. Just like that. No hesitation. No nothing. Seemed it had finally dawned on the boy that Sarah had known him by face; something his fellow movie makers didn’t need to worry about.

  Her body was found two days later by a couple of kids riding their trail bikes. The feral cats had been at her. Let’s just say it was not a pretty sight. This time I knew the boys had gone too far and when the police arrived to round them all up again, amid cries of harassment from their parents, I was certain I’d seen the last of them. But oh no, that wasn’t the end of the story. Because onto the scene stepped one Sergeant Timothy Collins and it was all I could do to restrain from striking him down on the spot.

  He was a Sydney copper and had been investigating Sarah’s disappearance. Unfortunately, he also turned out to be a man who could hold a grudge. And he held a big one against the investigating officer from the Bendigo force. They’d worked together ten years ago, when they were both on the Melbourne force. I’m not sure exactly what caused it, but boy was there bad blood between them. With their constant bickering and outright attempts to impede the other’s case; somehow the fact a murder had been committed seemed to fade away. Whatever evidence they’d found got contaminated. The boy’s families pooled their money and got a few lawyers. And before I knew it The Filmmakers were set loose again.

  I watched them closely during this stage, certain that Matthew killing the girl would cause friction. But no, once again I was disappointed. The general consensus seemed merely to be: why didn’t you let us film it. An oversight they acted fast to rectify. Acted with a bravado that showed their distain for the authorities and their certainty they’d never be caught. Before the dust had even settled on the investigation, they pulled a double header. And this time the razor blades came out.

  They didn’t even bother wearing the masks. They knew that they wouldn’t have to worry about being recognised.

  With the first girl, they built up to it. With the second, it was plain, sadistic mutilation from the get go. That poor girl’s shrieks will stay with me forever. As will my inaction. The fact I stood there and watched as they repeatedly dragged the blades down her soft, perfect skin. Watched as the skin split apart and her blood bloomed forth. Watched their mirth as they carved the words into her: slut, whore, bitch, lezzo; words the poor thing had no comprehension of. But what six year old would? They carved and carved, continuing even after the girl was dead. Flaying her skin, ripping free chunks of flesh and slitting her belly to plunder her viscera while all the while the camera rolled. Capturing not only their atrocity but also the sheer delight they took in executing it. By the time they were done, what an hour before had been a human child, was now scattered debris. As a final ignominy, they congregated in a circle and pissed on her remains before Michael spent, what they found an amusing moment, pretending to fuck the carcass before they wrapped filming.

  I know I have no excuse for not acting during those last two murders. I couldn’t blame it on my wanting to see the best in people any longer. It was clear The Filmmakers were a lost cause. The only excuse I can give was that I was frightened. Not of them. No, not of those fucking cowardly boys. I was scared of myself. I am not by nature a tempestuous being but
when pushed to anger I knew what I could do. I know that is no excuse and I really hope that maybe one day those two young girls will forgive me.

  My inaction was over though. It had officially gone beyond anything I could tolerate and I knew it was time to do something. And if I had any last lingering reservations they certainly disappeared when those fuckers went and took it one final step further.

  They began to recruit.

  * * * * *

  Jacob stared back at his brother in shocked silence.

  ‘What?’ he mumbled, even though he’d heard him the first time. He was just stalling, trying to wrap his mind around what his brother was telling him.

  He studied Michael’s grinning face for any hint that this was some form of joke. He didn’t see any as he struggled to think of a reply. After the poor night’s sleep he’d had and then the DVD Michael had just shown him, he was at a loss as to what to do. It seemed like he was trapped in some macabre nightmare. He could still feel the acrid taste of the vomit in his mouth. Could still see what they had done to the girl.

  And Michael was a participant. Although Jacob had kind of a gut feeling that was the case, he had sort of managed to delude himself he wasn’t. That his brother had just bought them off a friend like he’d claimed. But there was no denying it now. He’d been involved in it all. The filming of it. It made Jacob’s head spin. The sight of him wielding the blade, his lips drawn back into a hate-filled sneer. It just didn’t add up with the cheerful grin in front of him.

  ‘I said do you want to see it live? We’re going to do another one tomorrow. Clint’s lined it up. It’s going to be his sister.’ His brother sniggered slightly and scratched at the side of his nose. Jacob could see he’d missed a few spots of jism on his fingers.

  His brother had beaten off again and this time he’d taken his time. As disturbing as the DVD had been, it was even more disturbing how Michael had kept glancing across at him as he’d played with himself. It was like he was getting as much pleasure from Jacob’s discomfort as from the action on screen.

  Jacob realised he’d kept silent a little too long but just couldn’t think of anything to say. Panic was beginning to set in as he saw the strange look his brother was giving him.

  ‘What? Chicken are you?’ his brother goaded. ‘Hey, I thought you were a big boy now. I told the boys we could trust you. Don’t tell me I made a mistake, Jake. Don’t tell me that. Don’t…’

  ‘Okay.’ Jacob was startled by his agreement. It was out before he even realized he was going to say it. ‘Sure, why not.’ He hoped his voice sounded calmer than he felt.

  His brother let out a hooting laugh and clapped him on the back. Jacob tried to ignore the fact he used the hand with his cum on it.

  ‘I knew I could count on you. You’ll see. It’s gonna be fucking awesome. It’s so fucking intense. You have no idea.’ Suddenly his brother was all energized. Waving his arms about as he spoke.

  Jacob managed a wan smile in reply as Michael lifted the remains of the six-pack from beside the couch and tore two cans free. He handed one over and Jacob didn’t dare refuse it.

  ‘About time you had your first brew.’ His brother slapped him on the back and winked before cracking open his own can. Michael took a long swallow and Jacob fought his nausea as he watched his adam’s apple bob. He saw his brother peering at him over the rim and quickly popped open his own can. He took a hesitant sip and gagged slightly at the bitter tang. He forced himself to swallow before he looked up to see if his brother had noticed. Michael was peering at him with that strange look again and Jacob forced another swallow down.

  Alarm bells were ringing in his head.

  If Clint would do that to his own sister…

  * * * * *

  I was heartbroken when I saw that he was going to be there. That poor boy should not have to see what was going to happen but I just couldn’t wait any longer. I’d delayed long enough as it was… but I can’t help thinking how different things might have been if he’d just said no…

  * * * * *

  Jacob’s throat was dry as they marched in a group to the seventh Claypit. Not only had it been a long hard walk – he’d never been this deep before – but every time he looked over and saw Clint’s sister skipping along beside them, he felt like vomiting. His heart was thudding painfully and he could taste something strange and coppery at the back of his tongue. He really didn’t want to watch this. He really, really didn’t want to see what they were going to do.

  He knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t stop looking at Clint’s sister. She seemed unconcerned, bouncing about between the boys, happy to be going on an outing with her big brother. Jacob didn’t know what excuse they had used to lure her out here. He didn’t really care. He just wanted to get out of there. Even the thought of seeing her pussy, the first he’d ever see in real life, didn’t really excite him. Because he knew what would happen after. The memory of the girl on the last DVD rose in his mind and Jacob felt bile creep into his throat.

  Now he was really wishing he hadn’t said okay but he knew it was a bit late for that. Sure he was scared of disappointing his brother, but what really stopped him from just turning and fleeing was that look that Michael kept shooting him. It was the same look he’d worn when he put the proposition to Jacob in the first place. The look that had said there was only one correct answer to the question. That the wrong answer would mean he’d end up like Clint’s sister. That his brother would say one day let’s go kick the footy or want to come with me to my mate’s house and they would be there waiting for him with the camera rolling.

  ‘Here we are,’ one of the boys announced as the group straggled to a halt. Jacob couldn’t remember his name. He’d been introduced to the boys when they met up at his house for a “pre-game drink” as they termed it but in his state of mind none of the names stuck. All he could think of was what he’d seen them doing on the DVD.

  ‘So what are we doing?’ Clint’s sister asked innocently, a slight look of confusion on her face and Jacob felt the pit of his stomach drop out.

  The chuckle started with Michael, who stood behind the girl’s left shoulder, and spread out on both sides of him, taken up by the other boys as they formed a circle around the now very confused girl.

  ‘What are you doing?’ The fear was creeping into her face and Jacob felt like something inside him was breaking.

  Even though he’d been asked along it appeared as though the others had forgotten him. All eyes were focused on Clint’s sister. When he looked into their faces, he was glad of that fact. He took a step back but it was like all the strength had leached from his legs and he staggered into a crouch, his hands held up to the side of his head.

  Clint was the first to show his knife. The others quickly followed suit.

  As he watched the girl’s face crumple in fear, Jacob felt wetness on his cheeks and abruptly realised he was crying.

  ‘No,’ he tried to scream but it only came out as a breathless whisper.

  He managed to turn away and waited for the screams to start.

  But perversely, when the first one rent the air, Jacob couldn’t help but look. His head spun of its own volition and he glimpsed the girl on the ground, ringed by the boys, hooting and hollering at her as she attempted to hold on to the flap of skin they’d sliced free of her cheek. He couldn’t help himself then. He fell to his knees and vomited…

  * * * * *

  That poor fucking boy. That was all I could think as I came upon the scene. That poor fucking boy. He didn’t want it. I knew it. But what else could he fucking do? The knives were out. The boys were in the swing. I don’t blame him for what he did. What choice did he have? It wasn’t like he could very well say no was it?

  I saw the look he wore the whole time. I knew what he thought and I was just glad I was able to restrain myself long enough to let him leave. Even if later I came to question the decision, at least he didn’t have to see me at my worst…

  * * * * *

 
Jacob couldn’t help it. As he slid in, he was crying, bawling like a baby. It wasn’t anything like he’d dreamt it would be. Sure it was a moment he’d never thought would arrive; a moment he had fantasised about for so long but there wasn’t any excitement for him. There wasn’t any pleasure. Not with the ring of boys surrounding him, wanking away as they taunted the girl.

  His brother kept yelling at him, ‘Shoot it in there. Shoot it right up in there.’ But Jacob knew that was impossible. He couldn’t even keep his hard-on going despite how tight the hole was. It was just the thought of all that combined jizz he was sliding into – both his brother and Matthew had already shot their loads – and the way her eyes were bunched up beneath him. Her lips opened wide in a long soundless scream. And the blood that already coated her.

  The cheek flap jiggled with every thrust and whenever he looked up the boys were there leering at him and the lens of the camera was unflinchingly focused on him and he felt so sick and disgusted but he just couldn’t think of anything else he could do but keep thrusting.

  ‘The fucking pussy’s crying. I thought you said he was up for this?’ one of the boys called and Jacob felt his heart go cold. It only made it worse and he slid out as his dick went limp.

  He tried to stick it back in but it was impossible and when he felt the hand on his shoulder he started to blubber.

  ‘No, no, no, no, no.’

  It dragged him back and although he was glad to be off her; glad he didn’t have to look at those blood-drenched features anymore, he was terrified. The hand released him a few metres away and he just crumpled to his knees.

  He thought he’d pass out as his brother hunkered down beside him.

  ‘What the fuck’s wrong with you?’ Michael hissed in his ear as a shriek ripped through the air from the congregated group. Jacob didn’t want to know what they were doing. He just felt dizzy and sick and there was a strange roar in his ears.