Jesus! Michael's own body had shaken and he'd almost dropped the girl. Thankfully his mate hadn't noticed the change, he was too busy staring at the sky, remarking at the rapid change in the weather. The black clouds had gone, showing the pair of them the brilliant star-filled sky, unfettered by town and city light.
Seeing those blue flashing lights, waiting for them had been such a relief. After explaining to the paramedics and watching the ambulance whisk the girl off to hospital, they had begun their journey back to the house. Their conversations ranged from the folly of not investing in a four-wheel drive vehicle before moving to the country, to getting this ground drained and tarmacked. Not once had the topic turned to Maddie's collapse and Michael had certainly not broached the subject of how it felt to having a gorgeous, half naked teenager's arm wrapped around his neck.
3
The more he had drank, the worse his paranoia became. It was obvious that Maddie knew about Jodie's abortion, and that her own vile father had been the one who'd raped her. There was no way that the girl could have known. Until a few weeks ago, neither of them knew Maddie from Adam. The only available option was that this girl, during that episode had connected to his wife on another level, that she'd been able to snatch Jodie's thoughts straight out of her head.
A sober Michael wouldn't have even tolerated such nonsense. Shit like that belonged in third rate horror movies. After a crate of consumed beer, sober was one condition that had left his system a while ago. He popped the tab on his next beer and tried to construct a workable solution to ensuring the girl didn't play this trick again. Both Trevor and Fern were given hints about his beautiful wife's dark past, but nothing specific. He intended to keep it that way. Secrets needed to stay buried.
If she had been able to pluck those thoughts out of Jodie, what was stopping her from doing that to him? His secrets couldn't come out under any circumstances. How would Jodie cope if she ever discovered that the whole reason as to why he was so confident that her brother and father wouldn't track her down was that he had murdered them?
4
In Jodie's eyes, her older brother, Malcolm, was just as much a victim as she was. She confided in Michael that he had once told her that he was so glad that he hadn't been born a girl as well. It would have been double the fun for dad. Even so, being born male hadn't stopped dad from brutalising the boy. Malcolm had suffered numerous falls down the stairs as he grew up.
Michael understood the psychological implications of his father's savagery and how it had tainted the boy's attitude as he emerged from boy to teen and finally into a man. This didn't stop Michael from following through with his plans.
No matter which way he approached this problem, Michael just couldn't accept that Malcolm's father was the boy's only influence in his life. It's not as if the monster kept the pair of them locked in cages during their childhood years, meaning Malcolm should have learned the concept of right and wrong. The man wasn't a complete moron. It wouldn't have taken long to see what daddy did to his sister was very wrong. Michael might have allowed the man to live if he'd only stayed silent regarding the family's deep secret. What sealed his fate was that as soon as Daddy allowed it, the dirty little bastard joined with the vile abuse of Jodie.
Michael's own sense of morality couldn't allow this man to continue living.
Thanks to his intervention, he'd denied that vile family their sex-toy, but just because little sister had unexpectedly disappeared, didn't mean that either of them would have ceased their craving. They could have already have another poor girl lined up.
He could have gone to the police, but because of his family's standing the whole trial would have turned into a media circus. The heir to the family fortune falls for some working class girl, who's been raped by both her father and brother. They wouldn't have been out of the newspapers for weeks. Michael had no doubt that by the time it had finished, those two would be locked up. That would have been great, how long would those two evil cunts have lasted inside? He would have given it a week before another prisoner would have found a way to sprinkle rat poison in their meals.
It all sounded like the only sensible choice until you attempted to see the experience through Jodie's eyes. The very thought of being asked to re-live those traumatic experiences would have killed the poor girl, literally. Jodie was one of the strongest people he knew but even she wouldn't have survived that. No, his way was the best.
Finding the two men was a piece of cake. It didn't really matter that they had moved out of their home town and started new lives after Michael had taken Jodie away. The dumb fuckers hadn't even bothered to change their names.
Jodie's brother had found employment in a bookmakers. He cleaned the counters, swept up, as well as acting as an unofficial security guard. From Michael's observations, he seemed to spend most of his time chatting to the regulars and drinking soft drinks from the vending machine.
Malcolm Hamilton's existence came to an abrupt end on the 8th of October at two in the morning when he had choked on his vomit. The coroner's report stated that his death was accidental.
5
Michael hadn't taken any pleasure in watching the pissed up thug choke to death. For almost one hour, he sat above Malcolm, waiting for the inevitable to happen. Putting away so much alcohol followed by a dodgy takeaway (even dodgier as Michael had spiked his foil container with dog hair) the fool's stomach was bound to want to reject the churned up contents.
He'd almost missed the finale by dozing off. Michael had all but given up on trying to keep up to Malcolm's drinking speed, even so, he had supped far more than he was used to. The man's brown eyes had snapped open, and a slurred speech about not feeling too great had slipped out of his mouth. Michael had to be quick to make sure nothing else slipped out of that hole. He leaned forward and placed his gloved hands over the man's ears and held him still, watching liquid lumps of regurgitated lamb keema and beer shoot out of his nostrils and spill across the rim of the man's mouth.
The man's struggles had lasted less than a minute. Michael counted himself a lucky individual, although he did believe his plan would be successful, he still wasn't too sure that everything would stay on track. Michael did have back up. He had secreted a razor sharp knife in his inside pocket (A memento from his army officer training) thankfully, that stayed hidden, using that would have caused complications.
Taking Malcolm Hamilton out of society wasn't that much different as destroying a dangerous dog. It had to be done so it wouldn't hurt anyone else. It wasn't revenge or retribution, just a necessity.
Revenge came later. He had taken a great deal of pleasure in eliminating his wife's father. Thanks to his son's drunken rambling, Michael now knew exactly where to find the man. At least he thought he did. As the unpleasant night wore on, Malcolm's speech became more and more incoherent. He'd never known an individual who was able to hold his drink as much as Malcolm. Getting that bastard totally pissed up had proven to be an expensive exercise.
Albert Hamilton wouldn't have the pleasure of going to his grave drunk. Michael made very sure that the monster paid for his crimes against his beautiful daughter. He needed to suffer the torment that he'd put Jodie through for all those years.
It didn't shock Michael to find Malcolm didn't live that far from daddy. A quick search through the grimy flat before he left, confirmed that the drunken thug had been telling the truth about the whereabouts of good old Albert. He'd dug out two recent letters addressed to daddy as well as photographs showing the old man with his arms around a pretty girl in her twenties.
Just gazing into the girls haunted eyes, made Michael's cold reasoning fall away. Had this evil cunt found a replacement already? Allowing his mind to follow this line of thinking would only cause him to make mistakes, which meant getting caught. Besides, Malcolm hadn't said anything about his dad having a new woman in his life and he was sure he would have mentioned that. By the end of the night, he and Malcolm were the best of buddies.
Albert live
d about a mile from his son, sharing a two bedroomed terraced house with somebody else. Malcolm told him that dad had a job in some factory that made boxes, and the lucky bastard now shared a place with one of the night shift guys. What had made Malcolm's blood boil was that he lived there rent free, it just wasn't fucking fair. The deal was that they would find some place together and share the cost, just like they did in the old days. Paying the rent for this shitty place was killing him.
Michael picked up Albert on his way from work. He already knew that, thanks to Malcolm's spiteful dialogue, the man walked to and from work, due to the place being in the middle of an industrial estate. He waited until the heavens had opened first, before trying out this idea. People who had a dark secret to hide didn't sail through life without suspecting everyone and anyone. Still, he only needed to get the bastard into the car.
Swallowing his urge to shove his knife into the bastard's eye as soon as Albert leaned into the car, Michael gave the man his best innocent smile, tinged with shared irritation at the crappy weather. A quick explanation that he was one of the new senior managers at his box factory, as well as name dropping a few supervisors, melted the man's initial suspicion. He carried on the dialogue of helping his fellow workers while watching Albert heave his bulk into the passenger seat. The man was fucking huge!
All those layers of fat covering his considerable muscle became Michael's to do as he pleased once the ape had fastened his seatbelt. Michael brought up a cattle prod and slammed the device into Albert's stomach. He kept it there, watching the man buck and jolt, and extracting a great deal of satisfaction at seeing this monster getting a dose of his own medicine. This was only the beginning though. Michael had much more planned for this one. He gave it another few seconds before finally tuning off the current. Michael had a long drive ahead and certainly didn't want this angry bear waking up before he reached their destination.
6
Sixty miles and four hours later, his guest began to stir. Michael imagined slow confusion, followed with slurred questions, dripping from Albert's dry mouth, possibly starting with why was he naked and trussed up like an oven ready chicken.
The sudden violence in his movements took him by complete surprise. The sly bastard must have been awake for a while before he attempted escape. It took considerable effort for Michael to put himself into Albert's predicament. His subconscious mind must have given Albert prior warning before he became fully awake. Even so, how anybody could wake up, finding their naked body folded over the back of a chair with their wrists and ankles tied to the floor without moving a muscle?
The man's harsh gasps, screaming and bellows fell on deaf ears. The lock-up garage that Michael had bought specifically for this task was located miles from anywhere. To ensure no passing stranger would hear any noise, he'd taken the trouble to soundproof the interior. Michael believed in taking no chances.
Albert's noise soon lowered when Michael showed him one of his two purchases, a bright pink dildo. Michael heard the man's whispered pleading as he ran the tip of the sex toy along the large man's spine, heading towards his cheeks. Yet, in his mind, Michael heard Jodie panting out the same beseeching words while her own father climbed onto the girl. He buried the full length inside Albert, before stumbling back. Like Malcolm two nights before, Michael's guts ejected its contents. That was one event that he hadn't planned for. He honestly believed he would be able to complete his revenge without the encumbrance of his body turning on him.
Perhaps it was better to kill him and get it over with. That thought soon vanished when he heard the man laughing, telling Michael that once he freed himself, he'd show his tormentor the true meaning of abuse. Albert then stopped in mid-sentence, a slow smile spreading across his face when comprehension dawned. The man's tone grew darker, telling him that if he returned his property, then he might not press charges. The man's audacity shocked him to the core.
He walked up to Albert, clenching his fist. The man just glared at him, repeating the same demands. Michael gripped the dildo's base and pulled it out, whipping his arm back before the geyser of liquid shit splashed on his skin. Albert seemed to find this hysterical. The man's tune soon changed when Michael informed him that his son was dead and it had been him who'd done the deed. He then showed the monster his other purchase, a beer bottle, ironically, taken from his son's flat. This wasn't any normal beer bottle, Michael had coated the surface in super-glue gel then rolled the bottle in ground glass.
Albert's struggles and noisy pleading really did fall on death ears as Michael pushed the top of the bottle into Albert's rectum. He slid it as deep as he could before pulling it out, twisting the bottle for maximum effect. Michael repeated the same action over a dozen times, until the back of the man's arse resembled the surface of a meat feast pizza.
It looked like Albert had lost consciousness, but Michael took no chances. He zapped him again before unchaining the heavy bastard and pushing his mass off the back of the chair. He collapsed onto a sheet of tarpaulin. Michael intended to use this to transport Albert to his final resting place. Before tying him up, Michael pressed the heal of his boot a couple of inches over Albert's jaw. After reminding himself (yet again) what this monster had done, Michael stamped down hard, judging from the bloom of blood seeping through the material, his blow had inflicted quite a lot of damage. He just hoped that it wasn't life threatening. Michael didn't want this fucker to choke to death, like his son had. He hadn't finished with him just yet.
The man's final resting place was to be a hole that he'd already prepared, deep in the middle of the moors, where only sheep roamed. Nobody would ever discover the grave of this monster. Getting the wrapped up man back into his car had been a challenge but after a full hour of effort, he'd finally managed the task. The final reward though had to be at the end, when he rolled the tarpaulin into the large hole. By now, Albert had woken up. Thankfully, the man had landed on his back, meaning that he'd be able watch Michael shovel the dirt back into the grave. Michael had cut two eyeholes into the material whilst the man had slept. (God is in the detail) Of course, he'd started the filling in at the feet, just to prolong the torture.
7
In the two months since he had driven away from that unmarked grave, Michael had never once felt a pang of regret for putting down those two stains on society. Right now, whilst sipping hot coffee and listening to Fern and Jodie chat about designs for the front garden, he knew that his actions had been just.
Until now, Michael hadn't given his distasteful adventure in the north of England that much thought. As far as he was concerned, he'd closed the book on that section of his life. Standing on those two maggots had removed the boiling rage that had spread through his body like a malignant tumour. The very thought that those two had managed to slip back into the woodwork, that they'd escaped justice used to tear him up every day.
All of his anger vanished moments after he put the last of them into that hole. Watching those two terrified eyes, and hearing that last muffled scream just before he dropped that shovelful of dirt over Albert's head was the best tonic anyone could hope for.
He could now focus on building a fantastic future for him and his beautiful Jodie, to give her what those two evil monsters had denied her, he would give her a life.
Michael had a long journey ahead of him. Her recovery would take time. He could wait, he'd wait forever if need be. He closed his eyes, leaned back and idly ran his finger around the rim of the cup. Until last night's events, he honestly believed that the road to recovery was clear of obstacles. Only last week, she had told him for the first time that she wanted to start a family. He saw that as one more hurdle successfully navigated. She had even shared this with her new friend Maddie, calling her their future babysitter.
He quickly placed the cup on the coffee table, to stop himself from breaking it. How could everything go to shit so quickly? Michael leaned back again and closed his eyes. This time, he projected himself back to the events last night, going over every w
ord that Maddie had spoken.
It seemed ridiculous to even contemplate the notion that this girl had suddenly developed the power to read minds. It was just a torrent of random words caused by her brain misfiring, it was as simple as that. Just nonsense sentences.
It was a chance in a million that one of those sentences just happened to sound a bit like Maddie had managed to pull out a snippet from Jodie's dark past. Hell, they say that a million monkeys would be able to recreate a Shakespeare play if they had a million years to work at it. He really shouldn't allow something like this to get to him, and he was an idiot to let it.
He opened his eyes and watched the two women sit by the kitchen table. They were both munching their way through one of the plates of leftover sandwiches, and still deep in discussion over what to do with the front garden.
The pair of them were oblivious to his discreet observations. How much had that girl changed since he first bumped into her all those months ago. The girl literally did shine now, in fact, the speed of her recovery knocked him for six. Then again, should he really be all that surprised. Her own father wasn't exactly a weak willed individual. Unlike that evil fucker, she used her strength for good.
“Oh, hello there, sleepyhead,” said Jodie. If you want something to eat, you'd better get your arse off that sofa, cos I ain't bringing them over.”
Depravity Page 5