Becoming...

by Jacob Rayne

  The hardest part had been getting the skin off her ribs. The limbs – once he’d got the skin loose – were relatively easy, just a pulling and weird wet sensation that Luke assumed felt very much like taking off a wetsuit.

  There were gaps from where he had needed to cut the skin off – which he kept to the inner edges of the limbs and the outer edge of the chest and stomach – so he stitched the skin together as best he could and dressed himself in it, stitching the front together once he was inside.

  As with the sewing together of the mask, the needle punctured Luke’s skin, sewing Bryony’s dead skin to his.

  He went back to the mirror, running his hands over his new skin. The task was complete.

  He was finally beautiful. Behind her lifeless features, tears of joy rolled down his cheeks.

  He stared at her skinless body, which lay in a vast pool of blood on the bed, for a few hours then slept beside her.

  Chapter 94

  When he awoke, Luke touched his face to see if it had been a dream. It was a relief to discover it was real.

  His eyes refused to leave the skinless body of his love on the bed. He felt a little sick, but this was dwarfed by the euphoria he still felt. She was his forever now. This thought made him laugh.

  He spent the next few hours holding Bryony’s body and running his hands over his new skin.

  Alfred dressed himself nicely for his date with the pretty girl. He knew he wasn’t the greatest looking guy in the world so he had to make the most of what he had. Luckily the girl was a fan of his work, so he already had her on his side.

  He whistled a happy tune as he walked to the Black Cat. He stood outside the back of the pub for a while, checking his watch.

  The night felt colder than it looked, but he would have stood naked in a snow blizzard to get his hands on that blonde girl.

  The idea that he’d been stood up came to him a good hour after he’d arranged to meet the girl.

  Cursing, he left the pub and went home. When he got in he found another envelope on the floor beneath the letterbox.

  ‘Just making sure you were serious about me,’ the message read. ‘See you at ten xx’

  ‘Fucker,’ he muttered. The last thing he needed was a cock tease, even when it was for such an angelic being.

  ‘You gonna show up this time?’ he muttered.

  His breath plumed around his face as he set off to the pub for the second time that night. He was so eager to meet the pretty blonde girl that he was out of breath.

  As he reached the corner before the pub he slowed. He didn’t want her to see him as some fat, out of shape loser.

  When his breathing returned to normal he carried on and saw a dark figure by the rear of the pub. Its face was hidden by a hood.

  He hoped it was her, but he didn’t think it was. The figure gave him the creeps.

  By the time Alfred reached the figure, he knew that it wasn’t the girl from the picture.

  Disappointment made him want to hurl the imposter to the floor and stomp a hole in them.

  ‘Good to meet you,’ the figure said.

  He couldn’t see the face, concealed as it was beneath the hood. The voice sent a chill through him.

  ‘Sorry to mislead you with the girl, but I needed to get your attention. You and I are kindred spirits, Alfred,’ the figure’s creepy voice said.

  ‘The fuck are you?’ Alfred said, trying to get a better look inside the hood.

  ‘Doesn’t matter right now. But you and I can have a lot of fun together. The girl you killed earlier this week. She is just the start.’

  ‘And why the fuck should I believe that? You already lied to me about the blonde bitch.’

  ‘I know where she lives and I’ll be only too happy to show you when you’ve allowed me to be a part of one of your crimes.’

  Alfred salivated at the thought of finding the girl’s house, but he tried to play it down, not wanting to look too desperate. ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘Just let me play too,’ the figure said. ‘And once we’re done I’ll show you where she lives. Deal?’

  Alfred thought about it for a second. ‘Deal.’

  ‘I’ll be in touch.’

  The figure disappeared into the shadows.

  Chapter 95

  A few hours later, the Marshton Eight’s party had died down.

  Billy and Scotty made their excuses and set off home. They lived in the same part of town, so it made sense for them to accompany each other.

  A street away from their homes, they heard a noise behind them. Billy turned to see a black hooded figure following. He looked like Death itself.

  Billy did a double take and turned to see the figure again. It stood a few feet away, staring at them. ‘Well look at this, Scotty,’ he said, feigning fearlessness. ‘Some fucker dressed up like it’s fucking Halloween or some shit.’

  Scotty snorted laughter.

  ‘The fuck you want, freak?’ Billy challenged.

  The figure laughed, sending icicles racing through their veins.

  ‘I said what the fuck do you want, freak?’ Billy shouted.

  ‘Your hearts on a fucking plate,’ the figure snapped.

  The pair looked to each other for a second. The challenge terrified both of them but they wanted to look tough. They leered at the figure and began to advance on him.

  Scotty edged closer. His nerve broke and he charged at the figure, swinging a looping punch.

  The figure’s arm intercepted the blow then his other arm shot out, punching Scotty in the chin. Billy aimed a punch at him, but Luke kicked him savagely in the ribs, driving him backwards.

  Luke grabbed Scotty by the collar of his tracksuit, punched him in the face and swung him into the wall. He brought his right knee up into Scotty’s midsection. Scotty doubled over and took two hard punches to the face.

  Billy punched Luke in the back of the head. Luke saw stars for a second, but turned and threw a vicious left hook that landed perfectly. There was an audible crack as Billy’s jaw shattered.

  Billy fell to the floor, his unconscious head slamming off the cobbles. In a frenzy, Luke kicked his fallen enemy.

  Four kicks later, Luke registered a blow to his back. As he turned, Scotty punched him on the jaw. Luke laughed as the blow had no effect on him whatsoever.

  He grabbed Scotty by the throat and drove him back into the wall. They struggled for a few seconds, moving further away from Billy.

  Luke drove his fist into Scotty’s ribs. He cried out, but Luke’s fingers crushed into his throat, cutting off the cry.

  Luke brought his fist up again, thrusting it hard into Scotty’s chin. Scotty fell to his knees, his mouth open, about to scream.

  Luke moved behind him and put the bony part of his right wrist across Scotty’s windpipe. He clasped his hands together and pulled his forearm towards himself, into Scotty’s throat. The scream cut off. Instead, Scotty gagged as Luke’s wrist cut off his air supply.

  Scotty’s eyes bulged, his throat struggling for air. Luke pulled harder, maintaining his chokehold until Scotty started to convulse. There was a crack and Scotty stopped fighting for air. Luke held his grip for a minute longer, then he let go of Scotty’s throat.

  Scotty slid, lifeless, to the alley floor. Luke spat on him, then started dragging him up the alley to the car.

  Chapter 96

  Billy had regained consciousness shortly after Luke started to attack Scotty.

  His head pounded and he knew he was better off hiding, so he watched from the yard opposite Scotty’s body. He had seen the lad choke the last breath out of Scotty, had watched his friend’s life ebb away.

  Had seen the utter lack of remorse from the killer.

  Adrenaline made his body tremble. The thick, coppery smell of his own blood filled his nostrils. He hoped the guy who’d taken Scotty out couldn’t smell it too.

  Billy wasn’t a praying man, but he uttered a few frantic words now, hoping for divine intervention to prevent the ki
ller finding him.

  Fuck knows what he’ll do if he catches me, he thought. He wondered if he should call Johnny T and let him know the score.

  It took less than a second to decide that he should do just that.

  Patting down his pockets, he cursed as he realised he had left his phone at home.

  Hope lit up his mind. Scotty always had his phone with him, was always fidgeting with it. If he could get to Scotty, he could use his phone to call for help.

  He put his eye to a crack in the gate. Saw the killer dragging Scotty up the alley.

  Opening the gate, he took a quick glance around and saw the dark rectangular object on the floor.

  Scotty’s phone.

  He grinned, unable to believe his luck.

  When the figure had disappeared round the corner, Billy sprinted to the phone and picked it up, flicking his thumb across the screen to switch it on.

  After repeating the gesture a few times, he came to the reluctant conclusion that the battery had died.

  ‘Bastard,’ he muttered.

  Footsteps approached, sending him scurrying deeper into the alleys. Otis lived nearest, so he’d give him a knock.

  Smiling at Scotty’s dead-eyed stare, Luke dumped the body in the boot of the bouncer’s car.

  He returned to finish off the lad he’d knocked unconscious, but he had gone. Luke shrugged.

  He’d get him eventually.

  He’d get all of them.

  Chapter 97

  Billy brayed on Otis’s door, unable to believe that his friend was out. The day was quickly turning into a nightmare. He ran from Otis’s, desperate to get home to his phone.

  Luke caught up with Billy a few streets from where he’d killed Scotty.

  The stricken youth was running away from a row of terraced houses. He didn’t see which house he’d been at, just saw him beating a hasty retreat up the back alley. He followed him, keeping his distance to maintain the element of surprise.

  The fool led Luke directly to his door. Luke watched him enter the house and casually strolled away, a smile on his lips.

  Johnny T’s phone was switched off, so Billy left a number of messages on his answerphone. The rest of the lads weren’t answering either, and he knew that Olly hated mobiles. He cursed and slammed his phone down on the floor.

  He decided his best move was to get cleaned up – he was still covered in dried blood – and get to the police station.

  The dried blood stunk and was starting to itch. His head was swollen and bruised. The guy had one hell of a punch, no taking that away from him.

  His jaw ached. Eating was going to be a chore for the next few weeks.

  He ran the bath nice and hot and put some dance tunes on, to try and take his mind off the image of Scotty’s bulging eyes and purple face.

  Hopefully he could forget the way his body had twitched as he suffocated.

  He was in the bath only a few minutes when his eyes became heavy. Before he had chance to fight it, he had drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 98

  The bathroom light dazzled Billy’s eyes when he woke up. The music still played.

  He didn’t feel like getting out for a while yet, so he ran a little more hot water in and settled back into the warmth.

  The light flickered, then the house was plunged into darkness. At the same time as the bathroom light went out, the CD player shut off. The sudden silence was startling after the blaring racket of his music.

  Shivering, despite the heat of the water, he muttered curses under his breath. The fuse must have blown again. Why was it always when he was in the bath?

  He hastily dried himself then dressed. Feeling uneasy, he stepped out from the bathroom.

  Just the after-effects of seeing Scotty die, he thought.

  But he couldn’t help feel it was more than that.

  As he set foot on the top step, he heard movement behind him and turned to see a dark shape rushing at him.

  Before he could react, he was flying down the stairs. His shoulder hit first, flipping him so that his legs sailed over his head. He cried out in pain and dismay as his back twisted.

  He bounced all the way to the bottom, his head landing hard on the floor at the foot of the stairs.

  The dark shape followed him.

  He knew it was Scotty’s killer and knew why he was here.

  There was little Billy could do to stop him. Something had torn in his back as he fell, sending shooting pains racing down his legs. He felt unable to move.

  The figure said nothing, just grabbed his ankles and started dragging him out of the house.

  He was too weak to put up a fight.

  Chapter 99

  Luke shoved Billy into the boot of the car and drove to Peth Vale. As he opened the boot, Billy struggled weakly, traumatised by his time in the darkness with his friend’s corpse.

  Luke carried him a short distance, then dropped him on the grass, knocking out what little fight remained in him.

  He dragged the weakly struggling youth to the front door and brayed hard on the black-glossed wood.

  Angry muttering came from behind the windows, then footsteps approached the door.

  ‘This better be good,’ the clown growled.

  The door opened upon Alfred. He was half-asleep, his hair mussed and his eyes puffy with sleep.

  ‘What in hell are you doing?’ he asked the hooded figure that greeted him.

  ‘Brought you a present,’ Luke smiled, indicating Billy who lay, stunned, on the gravel drive.

  Alfred nodded and smiled a wolfish smile as he ran his eyes over Billy’s body. Then he and the figure grabbed Billy’s arms and legs and carried him into the house.

  Alfred directed them to the cupboard beneath the stairs. He lifted the trapdoor and they dragged Billy down into the dank cellar.

  ‘Shit, where’s the girl?’ Alfred exclaimed, puzzled by Bryony’s absence.

  Luke smiled beneath his mask.

  ‘For fuck’s sake,’ Alfred bellowed, charging at Billy like a raging bull, slamming fists and feet into his startled opponent until his limbs were exhausted and his chest heaved with the effort.

  ‘You want in?’ he asked the hooded figure.

  ‘Not yet. You enjoy yourself.’

  Alfred continued to kick the youth, hitting him so hard that it hurt his foot. Blood poured from Billy’s busted nose. His eyes bulged, staring up at his assailant.

  Alfred grinned as he took in the shivering youth. ‘Say,’ he said, rubbing his groin. ‘I got something in mind for you.’

  Billy winced at the realisation of what the fat man had in mind. Luke felt a little sickened too.

  ‘What are you, queer or something?’ Luke said.

  ‘A hole’s a hole, whether blood or spit or shit comes out of it,’ Alfred leered.

  ‘I love the dead no matter what their gender,’ Luke said. ‘But I can only stomach relations with the females.’

  Alfred shrugged. Like fucking dead girls was something to be proud of.

  ‘You joining in?’ he asked.

  Luke shook his head, feeling sickened by the idea.

  ‘Then leave us in peace,’ Alfred said.

  ‘Don’t kill him.’

  ‘I won’t.’

  Luke made his way up the stairs, and waited in the garden.

  Trying his best not to imagine what the clown was doing to Billy, he covered his ears to blot out the occasional muffled grunt and cry of pain that came from inside the house.

  He was pleased that Billy was in pain, but the thought of what the clown was actually doing reminded him of the attack he had carried out on Jane when Luke was a kid. The memories made him angrier and angrier.

  Deciding he was going to finish the vile clown there and then, he pulled his knife and headed into the house. His plan was disrupted when he saw a bloodied and bruised Billy running up the corridor towards him. All thoughts of attacking the clown were gone.

  Luke instinctively sent his right hand sailing
out towards the fleeing youth. It met his chin and buckled his legs. For the second time that day Billy was out cold.

  Luke dragged him out onto the paved side yard and started slapping him across the face to wake him up.

  Chapter 100

  Billy woke, cold and wet. There was a smell that he couldn’t place at first.

  He took in the roiling dark clouds in the grey sky above him and wondered what was going on.

  The feel of blood on the backs of his legs made him remember where he was and what had happened. He retched, sending pain spiralling through his body. His eyes struggled to focus on the dark figure standing over him.

  ‘I believe this is what you would call a special occasion,’ the figure said. By the sound of his voice it seemed he was grinning.

  Then Billy recognised the smell. While his mind struggled to process the situation, the figure scraped a match across the cobbled floor. He held it up for a second, his sickening features illuminated in the flickering flame of the match.

  ‘No, please, no,’ Billy pleaded.

  His begging fell on deaf ears. Luke threw the match at his feet. There was a loud wumph as the petrol ignited.

  Luke watched the flames climb Billy’s back, inhaling the sickly smell of burning flesh. With a hearty, yet depraved, laugh, he took a deep breath in. This made him retch, but he overcame it as he watched Billy twitch in agony.

  The clown came out, his flabby chest heaving up and down with the effort of running. ‘You… got…him?’ he panted.

  Luke pointed to the flaming pyre that marked Billy’s remains.

  ‘Nice. I like that,’ he smiled.

  Luke wanted to rip his own eyes out of his head to avoid seeing the smile as it brought back the events of his family’s deaths anew. He wanted to take the blade beneath his coat and ram every inch of it into the clown’s gut.