From the Dark

by K. A. Richardson

  Supporting the impending weight, Duke bent his legs at his knees and hoisted Lee’s body onto his shoulders. To his due, the lad struggled again, sobbing hysterically.

  Duke’s arm muscles flexed as he pressed a hand against Lee’s chest for support while the rest of Lee sat snug against Duke’s shoulder. Using his free hand, he felt around the air at Lee’s rear until the chain holding the meat hook touched him. It could be tricky – holding the hook with enough force whilst lifting the body a sufficient height with which to angle the hook into the back.

  Lee’s knees bent and he kicked out, making Duke lose his grip. Lee fell to the ground with a dull thud.

  Duke frowned – there was fight, and then there was too much fight. Raising his boot, he landed a swift but powerful kick to Lee’s stomach eliciting a loud groan. A small pool of blood started seeping around the lad’s head, soaking into his blond hair. With nothing to break his fall, his head had cracked off the concrete flooring.

  Bending again, Duke pulled Lee back into the same position. It only took seconds this time to get the hook in the right place. Forcing his weight into Lee’s front, he held the hook fast as Lee’s back sunk onto the hook with a sickening crunch and squelch.

  Lee screamed loudly – his body going taut at the sudden invasion and pain wave. Any colour Lee had in his cheeks faded rapidly, and his head dropped to his chest. They often fainted when the hook went in – Duke had almost come to accept it.

  A faint buzzing sound came from the worktop at the back of the room and Duke walked over, a wide grin splitting his face when he realised Lee had received a text from Francis.

  Picking the phone up, he bent behind Lee’s prone form and applied his thumb to the circle button at the bottom of the phone. It unlocked – instantly giving him access to Lee’s mobile phone content.

  ‘Lee, please text me. I’d like to apologise. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you the other night while you slept – but your tight bottom was calling to me, and I have to admit it felt amazing sinking my hard cock into you. You are stunningly attractive. I promise you’ll get enjoyment next time. I want you to be active in our sexual liaisons. If you come round to mine tonight, I’ll show you just how active. Oh and I may have got you a little gift. X.’

  Duke’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the text – Francis was basically admitting to raping the lad while he slept – but still thought it would be okay and that Lee would come running. He’s on another planet that one.

  Positioning his thumbs, he texted back.

  ‘I don’t think so. You just want me to come round so you know I won’t report you to the police.’

  Seconds later another text buzzed. ‘The police? Why would you threaten to ring the police? You didn’t say no. I thought we were both on the same page.’

  ‘I was practically unconscious. That’s rape. We’re clearly not on the same page. I’m not interested. Leave me alone.’

  Smiling, Duke turned Lee’s phone off and shoved it in the drawer. That text had been eye-opening. It was always good to have evidence against one’s enemies should it ever be required. The text would sit very nicely with the photo’s he’d taken of Francis with Lee. And the copy of the footage he had of Francis killing the other blond lad – footage he was sure Francis would hate to fall into the wrong hands.

  If they accidentally fall into the police’s lap once Lee makes pretty art in the vaults, well it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, now would it?

  Duke rubbed his hands together gleefully. As a kid he’d watched the tv show, the A-Team. A line from his favourite character, Hannibal, popped into his head. I love it when a plan comes together.

  21st December, 2300 hours – Francis’s flat, Canaan Lane

  Mark knew he shouldn’t be here – McPhee had already been on his case about investing too much emotion into his cases once today. This wasn’t just an emotional response, though – he knew Francis was somehow involved in the vault murders. He just had to prove it – and the only way to do that was to keep watch and wait for Wright to fuck up.

  The victims, both Aaron and Benjamin, had been Wright’s type. Young, thin, blond. He didn’t really vary in his tastes. All the same, Mark would have a hell of a job proving Wright’s involvement as it was. The last thing he needed was to be caught outside his flat.

  McPhee had threatened him with suspension the last time he’d been caught. It would be worth suspension, though – he did this. I just know it.

  His mind drifted to Toni and how upset she’d been earlier. She’d given her statement – purposely not mentioning the aura colours she’d told him about. He got why. She believed wholeheartedly in her gift, but she understood that many other people would not.

  He’d taken her home after the interview and given her strict instructions to lock the doors, have a hot bath and sleep. He had promised he’d return later. Duke had still not been caught but Mark knew Joseph’s adjustments to the door would prevent anyone entering.

  Wonder what colour my aura is? He shook his head in surprise. Where the heck had that come from? He didn’t even know what an aura was really. Some snippet of information stored in the back of his mind threw the word reiki at him, but it meant nothing in context. I’ll ask her – when I get there shortly. He genuinely intended to leave Wright’s street – he had promises to keep with Toni.

  Mark felt a rush of desire thinking about those promises. But it dampened quickly when he remembered where he was. He hadn’t sat outside Wright’s flat since the night he’d been attacked and he was still feeling wary now.

  Nervously he glanced in his mirrors in sequence, on the look-out for something that probably wasn’t even present. Then he triple-checked that the doors were locked.

  Here he was again – a grown man afraid of the things going bump in the night.

  Pathetic.

  Leaning forward he saw the curtains twitch in Wright’s flat – Wright’s face appeared, almost ghost-like against the glow of artificial light from behind him. Mark took in his expression – worried. What about, though? You should be worried – I’m right here.

  The childish part of him wanted to flash his car lights, let Wright know once and for all he was there to stay and wasn’t going anywhere until he got his man. It was almost a primal need. He didn’t, though, and Wright hadn’t seemed to notice his car at all.

  The interior lights in what Mark knew to be Wright’s living room went out, and seconds later, the ones in the stairwell window came on. A figure in dark clothing all but ran down the stairs, and within seconds, the communal entrance door swung open.

  Francis Wright stepped out into the night. The street lights shed a dim glow over his form as he made his way to his van which was parked on the roadside.

  Where the hell are you going?

  Deciding to follow, Mark started the engine and waited until the van passed before pulling out of his parking space.

  Chapter 17

  21st December, 2340 hours – abandoned abattoir, Leith

  Duke knew it was imperative he leave Lee in the vaults tonight. All the tourist vaults closed for a few days over Christmas, and he needed the body to be found at the last possible minute. He wanted to leave the most brilliant piece of Christmas art anyone had ever seen. And he wanted to make sure the police were tied up over the Christmas holidays and not out looking for him.

  He also needed the extra time to get things sorted so he could bring Antonia back into the fold.

  His mother was starting to have doubts, and if there was one thing Duke didn’t like, it was his mother thinking she knew better than him. She didn’t – she never had. Anger clawed at him as he recalled the last few words she’d said to him.

  ‘You’re not stable, Duke. Wherever this obsession with Antonia Baillie has come from, I suggest you send it back. You’ve bigger things to think about than getting a washed-up has-been like her in the sack. If sex is all you’re after, then I’ll sort it with Craig Gillan to fix you up with his daughter. She�
�s just turned sixteen – pure as the driven snow – and not betrothed to anyone yet. She’d make a far better companion than someone double her age – who’s been shunned, no less. I don’t think you’re grasping what you’re intending to do in its entirety. You’ve no idea how much work is involved getting someone like her back into the community. Give it up already.’

  He frowned. Who does she think she is? Talking to me like that. I’ve a good mind to tell her. Mother or not, she should know better than to question me.

  Bringing his attention back to the abattoir was one of the most difficult things he’d done in a while. Some of the pleasure in what he was there for had been taken away by the interruption of his mother’s words.

  Using his frustration, he kicked at Lee’s swinging body, catching him hard on the side of the ankle so Lee cried out in pain. He’d heard the crack as it resonated around the cavernous room – it must have hurt. Taking a deep breath in, he realised he could get rid of some of his frustration. Turning, he retrieved a crowbar from the tool station at the back.

  Aiming for Lee’s ankle again, he swung the bar, keeping the angle tight. The tighter the angle, the sharper the blow.

  A second resounding crack echoed round the room as it impacted with the same ankle he’d kicked, and Lee screamed, jolting himself and causing the hook to sink another millimetre or two into his back.

  Tears ran through the dirty streaks on Lee’s face – his blond hair was matted in places and stuck to his head. His mouth was open and blood-stained spit dropped from his bottom lip onto the jacket covering his chest – a growing stain on the jacket showed this wasn’t the first time it had happened.

  ‘Please, don’t,’ begged Lee, trying to swing to avoid Duke. All that resulted in, though, was the chains rattling and Lee gasping sharply as the hook settled in its new position. ‘What do you want from me? I swear I’ll get you whatever you want. Please just let me go.’

  Lee’s voice was ragged – sobs catching even as he said the words. More spit flew from his mouth.

  ‘No can do. Sorry, Lee. Wrong time, wrong place. If you hadn’t sat and spoken to Francis that day, none of this would be happening. I wouldn’t know you from Adam and you’d be trundling along in your life, living in your shitty council house, on that shitty council estate, shagging all the men you love picking up in the clubs. Now – well – now I need to show Francis that I am serious about my work – and that I don’t take kindly to being told I’m a liar. When I’m plainly…’ he swung the crowbar again, this time aiming for Lee’s ribs, ‘NOT!’

  Lee screamed again. The force caused the chains holding him to rattle loudly. He swung off to one side, and back round again.

  Duke stared at his face – twisted in a pain-filled grimace, more hot tears streaming down his cheeks. He could only imagine how painful it must be to be cracked in the ribs with a crowbar. At full force no less. He was surprised Lee hadn’t passed out: he couldn’t say with certainty that even he himself would be conscious after this beating.

  Lee tried to gasp in a breath, but it caught in his throat and made him sob harder.

  ‘Please, no! Please.’

  ‘It won’t be much longer. I can’t make it quick – our mutual friend would prefer it that way I’m sure, but no one insults me like that and gets away with it. I’ll do you a solid, though: how about you tell me which bit you want me to hit next. That way you’re controlling your pain yourself.’

  Duke grinned – that logic made sense – to him anyway.

  Lee couldn’t breathe – he was gasping as he tried to draw breath and his face had turned beetroot red. Damaged ribs whilst hanging from a meat hook was plainly not a good combination.

  Making his way around Lee’s body slowly, he touched various parts of Lee’s body with the edge of the crowbar. ‘How about this elbow? Or this shoulder? Or how about… this knee?’

  He swung the metal bar round once more, connecting with the side of Lee’s knee with a sickening crunch. That’ll do it.

  Lee’s head lolled forward. His body, unable to cope with any more pain, forced him into unconsciousness.

  Duke manoeuvred the rug until it was underneath Lee’s legs, then removed the hook and let Lee’s body drop to the floor with a loud thud.

  Working quickly now, he wrapped Lee in the rug tightly, securing one end with thick string, and using a butcher’s knot to continue the ties up the rug until it looked more trussed up than a Christmas turkey.

  He smiled. There were days he liked his job, and days he loved his job. This was a ‘love your job’ kind of day.

  21st December, 2345 hours – Greendykes Road, Niddrie

  Mark had followed Wright to Niddrie, one of the less pleasant areas of Edinburgh. The area was well known for its council housing for the low-income folk, and as such became a hub for drug dealing as well as use. Wright had parked up in front of a house – and had been sitting in his van for the last ten minutes.

  Why, Mark couldn’t figure out. Is he trying to gather the courage to face something, or is he afraid to get out of the car?

  Eventually, the interior light went on in Wright’s cab and the door opened. Wright stepped out into the cold night. The sky was clear and the stars were shining bright even with the harsh glare of the city lights. Along with the street light the van was parked under, they illuminated Wright’s face. It was drawn and stark against in the false white hue. Whatever he’s here for, he looks petrified.

  It was enough to maintain Mark’s attention.

  Wright made his way up the steps to the front door of the house – knocking loudly.

  There was no movement from inside – not a light turned on.

  Wright knocked again, really loudly this time. Mark heard it even through his closed window and door.

  Still not a hint of movement.

  Wright pulled his mobile phone out, the screen lighting up as he pressed something and held it to his ear. At the same time, he leaned in to the front door, listening hard – obviously expecting whoever lived there to be hiding from him inside.

  He shook his head, put his phone back in his pocket, and headed back to the van.

  Mark let him pull away, deciding to stay and find out who lived in the house. His gut twisted – a bad omen for sure. Whoever it was had Wright all twisted up in knots. Someone like that was definitely worth Mark speaking to – though he’d have to do it discreetly of course. No cause giving McPhee further reasons to bitch at him.

  He noted the address down in his notebook with one word next to it – enquiries.

  Mark decided that he’d had enough now – it was time to go home – well, go to Toni’s like he’d promised. If she’s still awake that is.

  He drove the shortest route, pulling up outside only ten minutes later. He smiled as he locked his car – her lights were still on. She was waiting for him. A shiver passed down his spine and his nerves tingled – it had been so long since he’d been with anyone he was a little worried he’d have forgotten what he was doing. The thought was almost enough to have him running – but Toni’s face appeared in the window, looking straight at him. He smiled and waved, then headed towards the communal door which swung open as he approached. It’s now or never…

  22nd December, 0010 hours – vaults under The Royal Mile, Edinburgh

  Duke had managed to get through the window and down to the corridor that led to the vaults without being seen. It was harder tonight than last time: more people milling about all feeling in the Christmas spirit. Even he couldn’t help but grin at the woman in a Santa dress – tits bursting out of the top and the bottom hem so high he could almost see her arse cheeks. Any other night he’d have stopped her and chatted – not tonight, though.

  Tonight, he had important things to do – like setting up Francis Wright for a start. There was absolutely no way the police wouldn’t believe he was responsible – not by the time Duke had planted all the evidence he currently had stored in his pocket.

  He smiled as he dragged Lee’
s body down deeper underground, relishing the darkness as it rapidly became ink black and blotted out the light. There was nothing to cast shadows down here. When he got so far down, he turned on a headlamp and positioned it on top of his baseball cap, pulling the strap tight so it didn’t fall off.

  It felt like just minutes before he reached his favourite of all the tourist vaults – this one was owned by the tour company who owned the vault where he’d deposited the first body. He’d known from creeping around constantly that the police had released the scene a couple of days ago. There was no one there now, that was for sure.

  Ignoring the right turn that would have taken him to the place he’d left the first dead body, he turned left, letting his headlamp light the way until he arrived at an archway. He ducked inside, dragging the tied rug behind him. Lee emphasised the fact he was still alive by groaning loudly.

  ‘Shh, you’ll wake the dead,’ said Duke, pausing and kicking the middle of the rug hard.

  He turned now, yanking the heavy rug over what he knew to be a step – he’d been here many times. This particular room fascinated him. The macabre in general did, but this room was special. He could almost feel its energy as he yanked the rug again, pulling it further inside.

  Pausing, he glanced around, taking in the atmosphere. This had to be one of the absolute creepiest rooms in the interlinking vaults and streets beneath the city. The room wasn’t huge – but there was a large open space before a recently erected barrier across one whole wall. It wasn’t so much the space he found fascinating, but the stuff behind the barrier.

  There were toys – from all corners of the world. People brought them and left them as a sign of respect for the legend relating to this room. He’d never felt the presence of anything, but it was said a small boy frequented this very room – he knew from experience that the tour guides liked to throw the room into darkness after explaining about the little boy who had a penchant for grabbing on to coat-tails and sleeves and giving them a tug. The point of throwing the room into darkness was so that occasionally, not every time, but just now and then, one of the tourists would feel something grab and tug at their clothing.