He chuckled. His Jodie must be in a relaxed mood. It wasn't often she slipped back into her native accent, especially in the company of guests. “I'm fine for the moment, honey.”
“Well, I'm not,” piped in Trevor. “Not too sure about tuna for breakfast though.” He turned to Michael. “Fancy a walk into town? I believe that we should check out that cafe you told me about last night. Girls, do you want me to bring anything back?”
Jodie shook her head. “I think we'll be fine. Besides, we'll be gone by the time you get back. Lots to do, and so little time.” She stood up and stretched her legs. “Will you guys be okay alone?”
Michael nodded. “Sure, I promised to give Trevor the full tour of the property.”
“Is that before or after you guys slob in front of the TV?” Fern giggled. “And don't pull the innocent face on me, Trevor. We both know your team is playing this afternoon.”
Michael got up and walked over to the living room window, still listening to the banter coming from the three of them. He rested his hands on the window sill and pressed his nose against the cold glass. Beyond the farmhouse, lay over seven acres of land. His property stopped where the local woodland started. Aside from the land, he was also the proud owner of two huge barns as well as a few scattered outbuildings on the other side of the farmhouse.
He found himself smiling again. Their kids will love this place. Right now though, that was for the future. This afternoon belonged to two grown up kids. He was rather looking forward to giving Trevor the tour. There were quite a few peculiar pieces in the larger of the two barns, and he couldn't wait to ask his friend for an opinion.
“Michael, don't forget to show him that plaque you found.”
Trevor gave him a quizzical look. “A plaque?”
Yeah,” Michael nodded. “Did you guys remember passing a huge white stone house just before you hit the town?”
“I pointed that out to you, Trevor,” said Fern. “Richmond Point, it was called.”
“Right. Well, apparently, this farmhouse was once called Richmond farm. I guess this was a couple of hundred years ago.” Michael still remembered running his fingers across the deep scratched in the wooden sign. It looked as though someone had taken an axe to it.”
“Do you think there's a connection?”
“I think so, Fern. The styling in the letters are almost identical. I might even pop up to the place later on, see if the owner knows the history.”
“Good idea, Michael, first, don't you think we ought to make our way to that cafe?” Trevor gave Fern a quick peck on the cheek. “Sooner than later, buddy. Before my stomach thinks my throat has been cut.”
Chapter Five
Opening old wounds
1
He had tried, he really had, but no matter how many times, the man now called Kevin Morris pushed in the key, he just could not bring himself to turn it. The door that led to his parent's bedroom stayed locked.
It wasn't his decision to keep that section of the hotel barred. Another part of the man's mind dare not allow him access to those rooms, there were far too many objects left in there that could potentially trigger any kind of memory relapse. Still lying on the bare floorboards, by the side of his adopted mother's bed, lay a dried up, brown oval of old flesh. Now it looked more like half a giant prune, only the scraps of light brown hair on the top and two eye holes gave clue as to what it could be.
The woman who called herself Kevin's mother, wore that as a mask, all those years ago to help the young boy adapt to his new environment. The mask was his real mother's face. The woman's husband had used a sharp knife to cut around her head before gripping his fingers into the bloodied incision and peeling it away from her skull.
The man once known as Andrew Collins had already shown evidence of instability by allowing the girl's last meal to live. Another episode could ruin everything. Their host needed focus, he needed stimulation, more than anything, the fucker had to stop dwelling on the past, before he ruined everything.
Before he broke over two thousand years of exquisite brutality.
2
The man known as Kevin Morris dragged a gloved finger down the bare brickwork. The many layers of dried human fluid made the surface feel a little like frosted glass. It made him very uneasy to be standing in here. To him this felt like hallowed ground. This is where his father first brought the young Kevin in order to learn the family business.
This was another area of the hotel that he'd blocked up once becoming sole owner, he believed it would stay like that too. After all, his father's techniques were at the opposite end of the spectrum to how he worked. Kevin had almost forgotten about the west wing of the hotel, it wasn't until his annoying failure at gaining entry to his parent's domain when the memory of this section magically seemed to reappear.
“This will be no good,” he muttered. His voice echoed around the dark room. Kevin guessed that these stained bricks weren't used to people expressing their dissatisfaction at the general state of the place.
The bricks, mortar, and concrete must have felt more than a little upset when he wandered in here without some other shackled human, already moaning due to the incessant beating. Dad used to love beating them. He always had a variety of thick wooden poles, secreted about his person, when he brought the people in here. Oh yeah, this place used to ring with heart-rending screams, shrieking and cries of mercy. Then, once Dad's fury was all but drained. The rooms echoed with hours of pitiful moans, until dad returned to ready the bodies for the initial cutting and dismemberment.
It's only after Kevin hit puberty when Dad's urges altered. He grew tired of the age old family tradition of using the room designed solely for the extraction of pain and just butchered and tortured the bodies in the dismembering room.
He wandered over to the middle of the room, the sound of his feet hitting the stone floor ringing in his ears. Unlike the walls, at least these were relatively clean. He sighed loudly, not that it mattered, no matter how hard he scrubbed those damn walls, he'd never make this room look habitable for occupation. He only had a couple of days, three at the most. Given time, he could have turned the room into a veritable palace for his future woman.
He had three days to turn this old place of screams into a room fit for a lady. No matter how many ways he approached the problem, Kevin could not see any viable solution. It would take a full day just to jet-wash all that accumulated gunk from every wall. Painting would take a good few hours, not to mention the drying times. Then there were the chains bolted to the stone. They would be an absolute bugger to remove.
His other option, was to build a wooden frame around the walls and cover them with MDF boards. The idea had appeal, if only he knew how to do that. Kevin's DIY skills extended to changing a light bulb and unblocking a sink.
The sound of those heavy chains dragging along stone ripped him out of his muse. He spun around, his heart hammering in his chest, and fearfully cast his gaze across the wall. Kevin was no longer alone.
Two of those shackles now held the scrawny arms of a young boy. The edges of those rusted metal binding had already cut into the boy's flesh, allowing fresh blood to paint stripes of red over the metal. The boy slowly lifted his head off his chest, and fixed Kevin with a steel gaze.
“Just what the fuck are you playing at? Do you think we allowed you back in here so you could have thoughts on turning the family temple into your private boudoir?”
“Go away,” he croaked. “You're not even real.” The man now known as Kevin didn't want this to carry on. His inner voices weren't supposed to manifest themselves. They were supposed to stay inside, locked in his head. What if somebody else saw them?
“Really? Are you having a laugh? You detached yourself from reality a long time ago.”
Kevin screwed up his eyes. Absolute blackness was far more preferable. He hated it when his younger self mocked his actions. His dad used to do that all the time. That nasty man has well and truly gone though, and unless Kevin could go
back in time and kill himself back when he was that age, the boy currently hanging three feet up in the air would never leave him.
He let out a quiet moan, like he could murder himself and somehow live to tell the tale. It's not like there really was a little boy, stuck inside his body, just ready to pop out at any time. Now that really was a silly idea.
It so wasn't fair. What right did that kid have to cast down his aspirations? The boy knew nothing. At that age, the little shit was still locked up in the cellar, no doubt shivering in a corner and trying to keep quiet, so that horrid girl wouldn't torment him again.
“This is all your fault, you know.”
Kevin's head jerked up. Another voice had joined the party down here. That came from the wall behind him. He also believed that accusation wasn't directed at him. It was about time somebody stuck up for poor Kevin.
“If you had done your job properly, none of us would be in this mess.”
Kevin opened his eyes and turned around, not surprised to see the chains on the opposite wall contained the little boy, currently staying with his parents in room number eight. He knew it wasn't really the real version. At this time, Kevin guessed the boy would be tucked up in bed, snoring his little head off. Alastair Westwood, yeah that was his name. Such a sweet looking kid, his parents had certainly brought up that chap to respect his elders. It did distress Kevin a little to know that those built in manners probably wouldn't last past puberty. Not with a father like that. His own dad had the same kind of eyes like Alastair's dad.
“Don't you start throwing around those accusations,” replied his younger self. “We both know it was a group decision. If I recall, you were perfectly happy with telling Kevin's predecessor to partition the two families.”
Alistair's likeness exhaled loudly. “It's just like you to bring everyone into it, to share the blame. Even when it really is all your fault. Of course we couldn't let them go. It was perfect. When was the last time the exact specifications fell into our laps. I'm not talking about the families, and you know it. I mean afterwards. The boy has no backbone. He's a weak willed failure. We should have killed the little shit decades ago and found another to carry the line.”
Kevin didn't like where this was going at all. He honestly thought Alistair liked him. He should have known better to trust him. That settled it, Kevin would show the pair of them who didn't have a backbone. He took a step backwards, still listening to the pair of them bickering. Fine, let them talk their nonsense, and while they were doing that, he was going straight up to number eight. He'd kill the hard eyed man first, that would be a quick one. A savage thrust through one of those nasty eyes should do the trick, then onto the boy.
The woman wouldn't be a problem. Fuck them and their silly temple. This was his hotel now. Once he'd finished torturing the little boy, he was going to fuck hard eyed man's wife, then eat the bitch.
No bastard called him a weak willed failure.
3
The door leading back into the hotel slammed shut. He spun around and raced over and grabbed the handle, straining with all his might to get it open. The harsh sound of laughter echoed around him. It wasn't just his younger self-mocking him now, they were both at it now. Kevin hated everyone.
It so wasn't fair.
“Did you feel all of that vitriol? This is exactly what I mean, he still acts like a spoilt little boy. How he hasn't been caught already defies all logic. Why can't you admit it? This one is unstable, and he's going to get worse. We both know it. It's inevitable.”
Kevin turned around and leaned against the door, wishing this pair of nasty little fuckers really were in those chains.
“Why do you never have faith in anything I do?” replied his younger self. “Has the meat and the souls dried up? No, of course they fucking haven't. In fact, Young Kevin already surpassed his predecessor. For number of kills.”
“You just don't get it!” screamed the other boy. “Stop thinking of the now, for once in your existence. What about the future, ever give that a thought? By now, this worm should already have his successor in training. Can you see any signs of that? No, of course you can't. This idiot still has his faux wife locked up, because he scared of the weird bitch. Admit it, you've fucked up, and if I don't sort this out, we're all going to perish.”
The door still wouldn't open. Kevin began to get very scared, mainly due to how little Alistair was looking at him. He'd seen that expression before. It's how dad used to look right before the bastard beat him.
“You can't do this. If you interfere now, you'll ruin everything. Can't you see that?”
Alistair whipped his head around. “It's way too late, it's been decided. You should have listened to us before you went off on your own. You were warned back then.”
“Yeah I remember. You were wrong then and you're wrong now.”
Alistair sighed heavily. “Why do I even bother in trying to make you see reason? Look, you impetuous fool. We have been engaged in this for over twelve millennia. Do you not think that by now we would have perfected our art?”
His younger self growled. “You're making a big fucking mistake.” As soon as the last word left the boy's mouth, he vanished. Kevin watched the chains slang against the stone. He vaguely wondered if he was losing his mind.
Alistair turned his head and gazed down at Kevin. “There, we're alone at last. Weird. He was the one who wanted you to come down here. He certainly didn't want you to go back into your parent's rooms.” The boy smiled, showing off his glistening white teeth. “You don't often think about the woman who told you that she was your mother. Now, that doesn't surprise me. As I can see exactly how you tick, and believe me, thanks to him, you're one fucked up individual.”
The door still wouldn't open. Kevin considered running past the nasty fucker and taking refuge in the other room, just until he left him alone. He would too, if the contents in that other room didn't scare him more than the boy on the wall.
Dad once showed him what was kept in there. His father, wasn't the most creative of individuals, as far as he was concerned. You disposed of the inedible bits of human, which is why he bought the wood-chipper. Before him though, the owner before him and the ones before used to turn the bones into grotesque creations. They used to give Kevin nightmares.
“You're the clay that needs re-shaping. It won't be easy and it's so going to hurt you. It's something I should have done a long time ago.” The boy opened his mouth and began to howl. The noise increased, just as his jaw stretched, as though his flesh has turned into warm toffee.
Kevin dropped to his knees and slammed his hands tight against his ear, but it didn't halt the howling vibrate throughout his body. His closed his eyes and rolled over, curling himself into a tight ball. He started to howl himself as the noise became too much to bear.
Just before the screaming man blacked out, a nauseating stench of decomposing meat rolled over his body. Kevin managed to get his mouth closed and catch his breath before the foul smell almost choked him.
4
Dazzling blue light tortured Kevin's eyelids. The vile stench still lingered but at least the howling had gone away. He rolled over and rested his cheek on the cool stone, before tentatively opening one eye.
Kevin hadn't needed to see to know that he was no longer inside the place of screams. In fact, he wasn't inside anywhere. He opened his other eye and slowly sat up. Kevin arched his back and stretched out his arms. The sun beat down on the pavement where he sat. The scent of fresh cut grass tickled his nostrils. Kevin found himself grinning. He knew where he was. His hotel stood majestic in the background.
He had no idea how on earth he could have magically moved from a hidden room below the hotel's left wing and into the gardens and right now, seeing how there was no explanation, he cast it to the back of his head.
His smile faltered just a tad when he found himself staring at the dining rooms windows, specifically, the frames around them. Only last month, he had them all replaced, part of his programme to r
efurbish the entire hotel. He was only able to replace the ground floor window before he ran out of money.
Right now, all he saw were the old crumbling frames, that have barely held those windows in place for the last few decades. The frown changed to unease when he noticed a very familiar figure float through the back door, a basket in one hand, a pair of snips in the other. Even though the woman's face wasn't visible, the long flowing dress, holding in a huge amount of flesh gave the game away. He felt the blood in his vein chill down a few degrees at the sight of the woman who for so many years attempted to convince him that she was his real mother leaned across the knee high brick wall and snipped off two red roses.
“How can this even be fucking possible?” he gasped. Kevin's mouth felt as dry as the bottom of a bird cage.
The woman selected another three more roses before heading over to the next raised bed. He remembered watching her perform this routine at least twice a week. The flowers were for the tables in the dining room. She insisted on fresh flowers, if possible, picked from the hotel's own garden.
“Have you ever wondered why those beds were able to produce such a high yield, season after season?”
Kevin looked up to find that the apparition of Alistair now stood over him, his tiny frame blocking out the sun's rays. He wanted to be sick, Kevin was almost ready to accept that he could have either gone back in time. The appearance of him though just meant that he hadn't gone anywhere. No doubt, his shivering body was still lying on that cold stone floor.
“Cat got your tongue, young man?” The apparition bent his knees. “No matter, it's fine. I can accept that this is your last act of defiance. It's only natural to hate me, after all, you think that I'm about to completely ruin your sad little life, to uproot everything you do.” Alistair grinned. “Nobody likes having their comfortable routines destroyed do they?”
“Why can't you leave me alone?”
“Oh please, stop it with the waterworks. You're breaking my heart.” The apparition giggled. “You really are a sad little bitch, ain't ya! Is that what you want me to do? You want me to leave you here so mummy can give little Kevin a big hug?”
Depravity Page 6