by Marc Pearson
CHAPTER 1
As the early evening sunlight began to slowly slip away over the marsh land leaving only the miraculous red sky for the last of the yard workers to admire, the last few vehicles left for the day, the machinery chugs through the final cycle of the day the hum of the motor dying away on the switch of the button, leaving only the solitary sounds of the stream as it ran past the scrap yard and the gentle hum of the generators in the outer grounds powering the spotlights over the scrap yard in the background.
The heavy metal door slammed shut at the front of the building and premises outer gate locked by the last person through the door, the close knit team all said their farewells for the weekend, the ritual Friday night conversation to the lucky people who worked the weekday 9 until 5 shifts.
“See you tomorrow guys for another quiet day, eh?” someone piped up not being heard by the others.
The hangar and grounds lies empty not for too long, the weak fencing is compromised and two people scramble over the low chicken wire fencing that has still not been replaced for a recent break-in. As the first person reaches up to the top of the chain link fencing and grips between the sharp ends of the chain hanging with all their strength and pulling the top downwards causing the fencing to bend more than it already has. The fencing bends closer to the height required for entry and proceeds to climb over with ease; the large frame does not stretch at any point; whereas the second person who enters the site does not have such an easy entry. The body is limp and unconscious; from inside the boundary the body is tugged off the floor where it was dumped to a near standing position leaning it against the metal fencing, and in one movement gripping under the armpits the person is dragged over and with the clothing catching at first then the motionless hands both being ripped by the exposed links. Unceremoniously the body is thrown over and dumped at their feet of their capturer inside the boundary. Reaching over once again to grab the rucksack brought with them.
“Why, why are you doing this to me...?” Natalie exclaims as the footsteps break through the darkness, the soles of the footwear tapping on the hard floor as they step closer not a stride is broken as it navigates into the warehouse.
“Help me, why have you chosen me. LET ME OUT….”
Interrupting, a voice from the shadows “No-one will hear you, it is only me and you now until morning, if you make it that far. It depends if you are silly and keep shouting.”
The footsteps continue, heavy and quick. Suddenly the pattern of the footsteps changes, the tension in Natalie starts to increase; the steps are more subtle stride resulting in less stomping and more of a sweeping noise as the dust on the floor brushes along. Natalie can feel her muscle start to contract her natural response of flight or fight has been activated but she knows she has nowhere to go.
Natalie tries to concentrate, she has been studying the shadows that she can see closely since her tired eyes have opened an unknown time ago, the room has been slowly being plunged into more darkness except for the light streaming through the cracks in the small blacked out windows and under the door, Natalie has worked out that she is almost dead centre in the place. She knows her surroundings well all around her she can see piles, she can see odd shapes that she cannot make out, the shadows of them have been staring back at her but she can not see movement.
The footsteps ceased, there was not a sound to be heard that was not from the building then a sudden surge, the slightest stroke and Natalie’s capturer is beside her. He stands behind her, slowly lowering his body he starts breathing in slowly and forcefully exhaling on her neck. Hairs begin to stand up, all her muscle work overtime wanting to protect her but all her limbs are disabled. As the breath moves down her spine her tense muscle release in a massive shiver almost knocking the chair she is sat on over on its side.
“Because you have been a thorn in my side for too long and I want the pain you have caused to disappear just like the blood in your body” Natalie’s question finally answered.
“I am going to make you relive all the nightmares, I have has and then drain them trough your veins leaving you with all my pain.”
Natalie tries to force her mind not to think of any visual images but they slowly begin entering her mind. Grimacing in discomfort from the contemplation of her fate, her muscles tense and she begins to cry. As tears start to descend down her dust covered cheeks leaving their trail, she whispers to herself
“I am to stay strong, I am to stay strong” beginning to control her emotions, the tears stop and she starts to comply with the demands.
When she realises that she is alone again, it is too late for her to try to escape or reason with her capturer.
The shadow of a man came closer, his features can be seen, the long narrow face, thick brow and nose and heavy lips. The pale complex of the skin almost looked white but this could be the light causing the illusion clearly now as he steps closer almost touching. He remains upright for a second more showing he is in control and will not be rushed, slowly bending down and Natalie could feel her hairs standing on edge as he touches her skin so softly and gently. The feel was one of a lover or a parent to a child when they are upset. Natalie tries to keep her eyes open but she has to close them with the apprehension of pain that flies over her. Not last long and not expecting the next move, the ropes are being tightened around her hands.
“Why are you hurting me? You don’t need to do this”
“I haven’t started yet; this is just Act 1 in my little play, Nat. I have left my masterpiece ready to be found, that will be the finale”
Natalie did not recognise the voice that spoke to her at first, it sounded almost foreign to her then she had a memory of when she had heard the voice before. The tone and accent identical to an answer machine message she received on her mobile two nights ago, this was strange in itself as the number was displayed so it could not have been a cold caller, when calling back the number went straight to that answer machine just the standard Vodaphone voice mail message. Later that same day the unknown number called back leaving a message this time:
‘Love is found in many different places but mine was found in Hell’
She never recognising the voice on the answer machine and she thought she had never heard this voice before that night but she was wrong the voice was familiar. It was very familiar to her but people always sound different on the phone, the tiniest noise or the difference in tone makes the caller anonymous.
After tightening the ropes around the ankles and hands, he stood almost face to face; Natalie could feel him breathing on her again, his breath smelt minty and the chomping could be heard due to her hearing now becoming extra sensitive. She forgot about the pain for a moment and looked up, the scream mask covered the features but she knew this was her only chance and lent forward biting the material. The mask ripped off his face before he realised but Natalie was not slow in recognising her murderer. The features of his face suddenly became very apparent, his identity suddenly clicked into place.
“What have I done to you, to deserve this? Please......”
She couldn’t finish as 50,000 volts shot through her and she passed out,
“I’m sorry Nat, the time has come.”
Darkness begins to encase the whole night sky, the stars the only light left on the outside of the hangar, as the power was cut from the security lighting.
Turning his back and running away from the suffering just caused, after running in a straight line for what felt like an eternity, the first corner that was reached was turned, the street lighting shone brightly temporarily blinding making the sharp pain felt inside suddenly seem very real as he falls onto his knees, reality has set in the journey to this point had been a blur.
His thin frame felt the full impact as his knees hit the floor as he had a long way to fall at 6’3. Once his eyes had recovered from the light, he grasped at thin air; the fingertip search of the floor had begun until he found his glasses, the aviators cover his features not that anyone will see him or recognise him at this t
ime of the day.
Glancing around there is no streetlights; he is actually in a dark alley. He had run further than he originally thought, looking around he now does not know where he is. After this thought he suddenly begins to realise that the bright light that had stopped him couldn’t have come from the alleyway. Where did the light come from? He questions.
He suddenly remembers, the flashbacks, the memories that still haunt him.
Guilt forces itself to over-ride all other emotions; putting his head in his hands he feels the warm damp sensation of fresh blood awashed over his cheeks.
As another flashback grips his body, more vivid this time. The blade moving high in the air, as if in slow motion and quickly being pulled back down. The tip hitting a limp object, arms flaying, face ghostly white and the eyes are empty. The body only being held in place by the person with the knife.
As the blade lifts again, there is face reflecting back in the shiny surface, it’s me!
Cautiously sliding his hand into his jacket presuming it is all a dream. His fingers trace the smooth metal surface, catching the ridged handle, grabbing the knife tightly and with one movement he launches it into the stream as it flows back towards the scrap yard.
The knife may have faded below the water surface but the memories will never fade, simple items remind him of the horrors that he has caused.