Gripping Thrillers

by Iain Rob Wright

  Leo shrugged. “She wanted to go for a walk and clear her head. I spoke to her for a while and then left her alone. I went back to the hotel.”

  “You’re a goddamn liar,” said Alfie. He pointed in Leo’s face again. “You never came back that night. I stayed outside smoking with one of the barmaids who knocked off at eleven. I never saw you again until morning. You were loaded, and you had a thing for Polly. You went after her and you fucking raped her, didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t, you moron.”

  “Yes, you did! We all heard Polly’s voice on that recording. She phoned somebody. Somebody who has known all along what we did to her. This is their revenge, and we deserve it, but you most of all. If you hadn’t chased after Polly and attacked her, she never would have run out into the road. John wouldn’t have hit her and made us all cover it up. All of this has happened because of you, you sick piece of shit. You ruined our lives, Leo.”

  Cheryl yelped as Alfie pushed her down on the sofa so that he could launch himself at Leo. Leo leapt backwards but found himself trapped up against the wall. Terrified, he threw up his hands blindly in front of himself.

  And buried the cleaver right in Alfie’s neck.

  There was a quick spurt of blood, and then nothing but stillness and silence. Alfie stood in front of Leo, frozen solid, while Leo stared into his eyes with a look of shock. Gradually, Alfie’s body slackened. His one arm hung so limply, it almost made it to his knees. He managed to bring up his other hand — his stunted hand — and attempted to pull the cleaver out of his neck. It wasn’t buried too deep. There wasn’t much blood. Maybe he would be all right.

  With a glazed look of madness in his eyes, Leo pulled the cleaver free from Alfie’s neck. He mumbled words, apologies and excuses, and then buried the cleaver again, deeper into the open wound. Blood spat from Alfie’s mouth and he tried to say something, but Leo pulled the cleaver free again and silenced him.

  Alfie collapsed backwards onto the sofa, legs flopping over the armrest. Cheryl screamed. In her mind, she had been running away and trying to get help, but in reality she hadn’t moved an inch. She had stood beside the sofa and watched the entire thing. She had watched Leo murder Alfie in cold blood.

  And now she was alone with a killer.

  Cheryl moved towards the gate. Leo stumbled after her. He had just murdered Alfie, but he acted as though it had been an accident. “Cher, come on, please, just let me talk. I can explain.”

  “Okay, Leo, just don’t hurt me.”

  “Hurt you? Cher-bear, that’s the last thing I want. I really like you.”

  “In the same way you liked Polly?” Cheryl didn’t know why she asked such an antagonising question, it had just spilled out of her. Anger spilled out of her. “Are you going to rape me like you raped her?”

  He moved towards her, waving the bloody cleaver around like he forgot he was even holding it. It sliced back and forth through the air, flicking Alfie’s blood at her. “I didn’t rape Polly! How could you think that?”

  “I heard the recording, Leo. Polly was pretty clear about who had hurt her.”

  “She’s a fucking liar. We were all drunk that night, Cher, but Polly had a chip on her shoulder about something from the moment she arrived. She was determined to have a good time and made no secret of it. We were making out in the bar well before she got into a row with Monty. I only went after her to continue what we’d started. She wanted it.”

  Cheryl shook her head in disgust. “Making out with someone in a bar doesn’t mean they want to get fucked in the woods.”

  Leo pointed the cleaver at her. “She wanted it.”

  “Let me out of this cell, Leo.”

  “Not until you say you believe me.”

  Seriously? He was waving a meat cleaver at her that he had just used to murder Alfie. Did it really matter whether she believed him or not? “Okay, I believe you, Leo. Please, step out of my way.”

  To her astonishment he did as she asked and stepped out of her way so that she could make it to the gate clear. She hurried and, when Leo made a move to follow, she panicked. She leapt through the gate and turned to swing it shut. The metal frame struck Leo and trapped his arm against the bars.

  “You stupid bitch!”

  “Leo, stay back or I swear—”

  “Swear what? You’re just like all the others, Cheryl. Giving guys the come on when it suits you then cock-blocking once it’s time to deliver. I’ve been nothing but nice to you, and you’re treating me like an arsehole.”

  “You murdered Alfie.”

  “It was an accident.”

  Leo threw the cell gate open and approached her in the centre of the tunnel. He had the look of a wild dog, tensed up and ready to bite. Cheryl’s heart beat against her chest, trapped inside her ribs the same way she was trapped inside this tunnel. There was nowhere to run. No escape. She was at the mercy of a monster.

  “Help!” she screamed, hoping whoever was listening — if anybody was — would hear her and finally put a stop to this. She wasn’t supposed to be down there. This wasn’t her game. “Help me, please!

  Leo grabbed her and threw her sideways against the steel wall of the tunnel. She struck the back of her head and a few seconds passed without her knowledge. Suddenly Leo was pressed up against her, the bloody cleaver flat against the side of her face. She felt the heat of his groin against hers. “Are you in on this?” he said, snarling the words at her. “Is that why you joined Alscon? To mess everything up for everyone? Who are you, Cheryl?”

  She wanted to fight her way free, but she didn’t want him to chase her again. Somehow being chased was worse than being caught. “What are you talking about, Leo? None of this has anything to do with me. I’m not even supposed to be here.”

  “But you are. You’re here, and you’re fucking everything up. Sticking your nose into other people’s business.”

  She actually grinned at that. “You idiot. Someone has had your number this whole time. You’re not as smart as you think you are. This has been one big set up and you fell for it. You’re getting what you deserve. Everyone here helped kill Polly, but what you did is by far the worst. Leo, you’re the monster down here, buried beneath the earth. This is all because of you.” She sneered at him, enjoying the offence it caused. “And you’re screwed.”

  The anger that flashed across his face was terrifying. He lashed out with the cleaver, smacking her in the side on the head with the flat of the blade. She tried to stay on her feet, but the floor tilted and she suddenly found herself on her hands and knees, scurrying to get away. Leo dropped onto her back, pinning her to the ground. Right away she felt his fingers clawing at the waist band of her jeans. “If I’m so screwed then I have nothing to lose, right? Might as well enjoy myself. Looks like you’re about to get screwed too.”

  Cheryl tried to claw herself from underneath him, but his weight crushed her against the steel floor. “Leo, please, don’t do this. Get off me!”

  Leo panted at the back of her neck. “That’s just what Polly said, and you know how things ended for her.”

  “Get off me!” She threw her head back and felt something crunch. Leo cried in pain and half-climbed away from her.

  “You bitch!”

  Cheryl tried to scramble away, but Leo grabbed her ponytail and yanked her head back. Then he smashed her face into the steel floor. She groaned, seeing stars, and the fight went out of her. Leo allowed her to roll onto her side so that she could see what she had done. His nose dripped blood onto her chest. Her head had connected with his nose, and the crimson mask covering his mouth and chin made him look demonic. “I’m really sorry things didn’t work out between us, Cher. I always had hope we would make a go of things.”

  Cheryl groaned through the pain in her head. If this was the manner of her death, she wasn’t going to lie there and accept it. “You… never… had… a chance.”

  Leo cursed and punched her in the face. Cheryl’s head whipped to one side and her vision swirled. A gli
nt of steel caught her eye. The cleaver was lying on the floor next to Leo’s knee. He had placed it down in order to manhandle her. She looked up at him with tears and blood on her cheeks, and while he clearly enjoyed the sight of her misery, it made him blind to the fact she was secretly reaching out a hand towards the cleaver.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt, Polly,” he said as he sat on top of her. He sounded so normal, almost like he truly did regret his crimes. It was only his eyes that gave him away. They were such a dark brown that they almost appeared black in the low light. Evil eyes. How had she never noticed? “I honestly thought she liked me — I think she did in a way — but her mood turned after her fight with Monty. She started calling me names and telling me to get away from her. I just lost it. I can’t stand women drinking, it turns them into slags, but right then and there I wanted her anyway. After it was over, she kept threatening to accuse me of assaulting her. I knew I had to kill her, but… well, I’m no killer, Cher. I struggled with it, I really did, and that gave the bitch time to break free and leg it into the woods. It was so dark out there that she vanished like a ghost. I chased her in every direction, and just as I found her, she ran out into the road and John smashed her to bits with Monty’s car. It was like a gift from God. Polly was never going to tell a soul about what happened now, and John took care of making her disappear. I went to my hotel room and had myself another couple beers from the mini-bar. It was a good night.”

  Cheryl inched her fingertips towards the cleaver, almost there. “You’re sick,” she said. “Mentally ill.”

  “Yeah, maybe. I take after my mum in that respect. She was nutty as a fruit cake. Used to turn up at my high school in her dressing gown. I begged to live with my dad, but he didn’t give a shit, so I was stuck with my lunatic mother while she shagged every no mark Tom, Dick, and Harry to get a bit of beer money. I have a goddamn right to be mentally ill, Cher. Hey, maybe that can be my defence if I ever get out of this hole.”

  “You won’t. We’re all going to die down here. But you first!” She stretched for the cleaver, ready to grab it and bury it in Leo’s neck the same way he had Alfie’s.

  “Nice try.” Leo grabbed the cleaver just as her fingers began to wrap around it. He had seen her going for it — had known the entire time. “Maybe I should chop off a hand to keep you from struggling.”

  Cheryl screamed in terror as Leo raised the cleaver over his head with a maniacal glint in his eye. His angular face was unkind in every way, a beast pretending to be a man.

  I’m going to die down here.

  Cheryl jolted and her lungs squeezed out a hollering wail. The weight on her chest increased, and Leo’s face pressed right up against hers, eyes open and staring into hers.

  Then he flew backwards, removing himself from on top of her.

  Cheryl rolled on to her tummy and started crawling away. She was confused when she realised she still had both hands, fingers all still accounted for. Why hadn’t Leo cut her? Had he missed? She glanced over her shoulder and saw Leo struggling. Somebody was fighting with him.

  “The fuck you doing, bruh? You crazy?”

  Cheryl couldn’t believe her eyes. Monty grabbed Leo and restrained him. He wasn’t dead yet and had regained consciousness. His skin was pale, and he was visibly disorientated, but he had known enough to protect Cheryl. “He’s the one, Monty. Leo raped Polly. He killed Alfie.”

  Monty’s face turned to horror. He snarled at Leo who was struggling to break free. “You piece of filth. I’m gonna mash you up!”

  Leo tried to get his arms up, but Monty — far larger— scooped him into an arm lock and slammed him face first into the nearest cell bars. The thunk of Leo’s skull was sickening and satisfying. He cried out for mercy. “She’s lying, man. I never did nothing. She’s in on this whole thing. Don’t you think it’s weird how she only just started at Alscon? She helped set us up.”

  Cheryl shook her head because she feared Monty was considering the question seriously. “He raped Polly, I swear,” she cried. “It was right after you and she had an argument in the bar. She said you stole her sale to the council. Leo went right after her.”

  Monty frowned, obviously confused after having just roused from unconsciousness. His back was covered in blood, and the spike was lying on the ground.

  Leo relaxed, keeping a non-threatening and easy-going expression on his face. “Nah, man, she’s lying. You know me, Monty. I wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  Leo started to remove himself from Monty’s grasp, obviously feeling he had gained enough trust. Monty twisted his arm again and shoved him back against the bars. “You did leave right after Polly. I remember telling the police that but they had a hard on for me being the guilty one. I thought I was guilty, too, because it was me that made her rush off looking for John. If I hadn’t stolen her sale…”

  Cheryl saw the anguish Monty carried inside him. The arrogant salesman act had fallen away completely now and his soft underbelly was exposed. “Monty,” she said softly, “you’re the only one who didn’t contribute to Polly’s death — not really. You and she had an argument, sure, but if Leo hadn’t attacked her, and if John hadn’t been speeding around drunk and high, Polly would still be alive. The worst you deserve is getting fired. You deserve a second chance.”

  Monty looked at her, trembling as he restrained Leo against the bars. He gave Cheryl a small nod, as though she had just spoken words he had longed to hear. He opened his mouth to speak, but then he glanced aside and spotted John hanging from a noose — a decision they had made without him. “What the hell?”

  Leo took advantage of the distraction and twisted out of Monty’s grasp. Monty reacted and went to grab him again, but Leo circled his arms into a bear hug and squeezed. He clawed at the gaping wound in Monty’s back.

  Monty bellowed in agony and slumped up against the bars. Leo didn’t waste a second. He smashed a knee into Monty’s ribs and sent him sprawling onto his stomach. Then he reached down and retrieved the fallen cleaver. Why hadn’t Cheryl thought to grab it?

  Why didn’t I do something?

  Leo knelt on Monty’s back, pinning him to the ground. “Sorry about this, bruh, but I’m done playing games.” He pounded the cleaver into the back of Monty’s skull. Again and again and again.

  Leo tried to yank the cleaver back out of Monty’s skull, but it was embedded too deeply. It was buried almost up to the hilt, and the first blow had shut Monty off like a switch. After somehow surviving being impaled in the back, Monty had been murdered by someone he had trusted. Once again, Cheryl was alone with Leo.

  But at least he’s no longer armed.

  That still doesn’t mean there’s anywhere to run.

  “Leo, you have to stop this. You’re out of control.”

  Leo chuckled. The blood on his chin was now drying, making it darker and even more unsettling. He waved a bloody hand in the air making a ‘loopy’ gesture. “We lost control the moment we climbed into this hole. We were dead the minute that ladder fell apart in my hands. Isn’t it a head fuck?”

  “You’re right, Leo, and if you kill me you’ll be all alone down here until however long it takes for you to starve.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe your dear old mum will get worried and call the police. Help might come and pull me out of here in the knick of time. If you’re alive, you’ll start telling tales, but if everyone is dead, I can tell the police about how this was all some sick, twisted game that only I survived. It’s the only chance I have, don’t you reckon?”

  Cheryl nodded. Leo was talking sense — from his perspective — which meant he knew what he was doing. He wasn’t mad. He wasn’t deluded. He was remorseless. A sociopath who had been working in the cubicle next to hers for three months. While Polly’s murder had taken a toll on the others, Leo didn’t seem to care one bit. In fact, he thought he was the victim in all this.

  He took a step towards her. Cheryl stepped back.

  “Make it easier on yourself, Cher-bear. We can have some fun before
I, you know—” He ran a finger across his throat and made an ick-ick sound.

  “Stay away from me, you sick bastard.”

  Leo smirked and took another step. Cheryl took another step back. Slowly, he was chasing her down the tunnel. He seemed to enjoy her defiance, but eventually she would run out of tunnel.

  Leo took another step. Cheryl took another step, but this time it was to meet him. Her approach confused him, and it made him reach out to grab her. While he was unbalanced, she swung her foot up between his legs as hard as she could. Once again, she wished she was wearing boots.

  All of the air escaped Leo in a massive ooph. He toppled over like a wheelbarrow, knees pressed together and his hands covering his battered groin. Cheryl knew she had to keep on attacking if she had any chance, so she rushed forwards and kicked Leo again, this time on top of his head. The blow stung her foot, but she kept on attacking, stamping on him, and booting at his body until he withered into a fetal position. The puppy-like whimpers he made were music to her ears. She stopped fearing him and felt only disgust. “You’re what makes my mum so afraid. It’s men like you that make women fear every dark alley and lonely pathway, but actually you’re not even a man. You’re a sad—” She kicked him again. “Pathetic—” And again. “Little—” And again. “B—”

  Leo threw out a hand and caught her leg. It knocked her off balance and she stumbled onto one knee. Desperate to keep her attacker off his feet, she leapt at him, pummelling his ears with both hands. But it was no good.

  Leo shoved her away. He remained bent, still in pain from the blow to his testicles, but it only seemed to piss him off. Whatever anger had possessed him before, now became an unbridled fury. He lunged at Cheryl with both hands clenched, spittle flying from his mouth as he hissed and snorted.

  Cheryl tried to clamber away, letting out a sequel of fear. She tried to defend herself.

  But it was over.

  She was a defenceless young girl at the mercy of a hungry man. A story as old as time itself.