Little Red

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Little Red Page 13

by Justin Cairns


  Chapter Fourteen

  He checked, again, the equipment for the night’s event. His mouth had throbbed for several hours, the pain still dwelling within his gums. The changing of his appearance had brought a sense of fulfilment, the first tooth looked better than he had hoped for; his finger tip still help the indentation as he had pushed it against the sharpened point. Satisfied that the inventory was complete he headed back upstairs to verify his new set of teeth, feeling slightly vane as he checked them in every reflect able surface he passed. The grin was frightening, so real. His tongue licked the tips, a slight tingle of pain as he touched them. I am becoming………I will become!

  He gathered his belongings and took them to the van, sitting them upon the passenger seat. The sky was becoming a grey colour, slight tints of clear blue showing as the clouds gradually suffocated the vast space. He pushed the gear stick into first and began the journey. The heaters began to warm the cold interior. The night was creeping above and the streets were starting to empty, the cold wind increased and whistled through the trees. He knew the location of his new girl and he had studied the map and all accessible routes to and from her safe place. Tonight he would take an alternate path. It was something he had trained himself to do. His mind wandered back to the days when all of the recent activities were just a vision……a dream.

  He had sat in the one bedroom apartment, the walls were stained with a yellow tint; the dried nicotine from copious amounts of cigarettes clung to the surface. He had longed to be somewhere else than there……somewhere meaningful. He still carried the ageing photograph in his wallet, the birthday cake laying in front of her puffed up cheeks…..all prepped for extinguish and wish making. He remembered the time they spent together, reading their favourite stories and trying the odd scare tactic when approaching the frightening parts. He would prance around the room they shared, his thin body bent into an arched shape to imitate the creature from the book. She would pull the blanket higher, leaving just enough viewing space. Her long red hair would hang over the bedding; thin strands clung to her eye lashes. He would pant and offer a low growl as his beast would enter the chapter, her eyes widened with fear. He would stop when he noticed the scarring had become too much.

  ‘It’s ok red…..these stories can’t hurt you’ he would reassure, Red being his nick name for her…..her red hair aiding to the label.

  The floor boards would creak from outside the door and the story telling would seize as they anticipated the listening guest. He was aware of the midnight visits, not being woken but hearing the creeping in the room. He would curl his body into a U-shape and place his hands over his ears, willing the shadow to leave them. It didn’t.

  On occasion the beast would forget to pay them a visit, the alcohol had been consumed in large amounts and the animal would drag itself to the cave and pass out for the night. Russell would attempt to barrage the door with furniture, the lack of storage proved his efforts to fail and the belt from the monsters trousers would crack the back of his legs. He had only one fond memory of his child hood, many other events would haunt his mind and one would torment him till the day he fills a hole in the ground. The fondest was of his little sister Sarah, she meant the world to him and he would do anything to make her smile. The haunting visions were those of his father……the beast. His body had endured a physical torture that no child should bear or witness. He had no friends to play with and no time for socialising, schooling was ended due to him been the sole carer of his sister.

  One occasion torments his mind even now, a series of events that he can no longer blank from his internal slide show. The night had arrived quicker than they had thought, the story telling aided in passing the time. Sarah sat at the top of her mattress, the old sleeping aid was worn and uncomfortable but Russell had given her the only bed frame in the room, he slept on several blankets upon the stained carpet. He strolled around the dimly lit room, the moon glowed strong through the only window; illuminating his body temporarily as he moved past it. Sarah would gasp as he offered a muffled howl, imitating the Wolf from the book. He noticed that she would jump at the same part of the story every time. He had begun reciting the words my…… what big ears you have, when the creak froze his movements. Fear engulfed them and he found himself unable to move. He watched as the black mass moved under the door, its shadow cast from the light at the top of the stairs. The round door handle had started to rotate clockwise, Russell found himself edging to his bed; his eyes fixed on the door. Slowly it was eased open and slowly he lowered himself to the floor.

  The blankets gave a ruffled sound as he pulled them up to his face, the beast had entered their room. The floor boards echoed its footsteps, the old carpet had thinned with wear and barely lay on top of the wooden slats. The steps had moved cautiously but controlled, he isn’t drunk………oh god he isn’t drunk.

  The sliding of blankets could be heard from his hiding place and Russell began to wind himself up with bad thoughts……angry thoughts. He felt his blood boil, his gut began to ache. He knew what was going to happen, it had several times now. Whispers could be heard in the room, he continued with the forced rage.

  The blanket fell silently to the floor…..the beast with its back towards him. His footsteps held no sound…….leaping towards the large mass. The grunt as he and the monster exhaled with the contact. The scream as the girl sat upon her resting place. Her red hair glowed in the moonlight. The thud as the small body was thrown to the floor…..his head absorbing the blow. The grunt as the large man regained his posture……the gurgle sound escaping his mouth as the small, weak arms were clasped around his throat from behind. The girl held on for dear life. The boy was back on his feet, his hands searching for a weapon. The glass shard found from the broken mirror, caused from their ruckus. The thrusting and tearing of skin filling the room…..his screams of rage were followed by screams of pain. The beast was on the floor…..the glass piercing his body. The warm blood spat at the boy’s face, the weapon brought up and forced down several times as the rage controlled him. The aggression caused spurts of abuse from his mouth, the words directed into the monsters ears. Russell’s hand was flayed from the shard, his opponent gurgled as the blood pooled within his chest. The anger soared through his sixteen year old body, unable to withstand the fire from his core he thrust the point into the man’s neck; withdrew and slammed it down three more times. He wanted him dead, expired from the hell he had created. The open wounds gurgled as the last breathe escaped them, the whimper followed. Russell stopped, his body rocked where he kneeled. The sound of the girl crying created a drought of the anger……..he starred in shock.

  Sarah lay crumpled by the beast, his large body pinned her to the ground. From her chest leaked a flow of crimson, her life draining from the injury. Russell shot forward and grabbed the shoulder of his father, he pulled with the remaining strength to free his sister. She lay motionless, a slight jump from her torso as the small heart fought to stay alive. He had killed her, the shard ripped through the flesh of the man’s neck and pierced her fragile body. The organ was ruptured and she gazed up through the window as the moon smiled down upon her. He had taken her…….he had ended his Little Red.

  The van was stopped at his desired location. He sat one house down from his new girl, the park to his right offered a shield of trees and he lay in front of them; the engine rocking to a halt. He did the usual three hundred and sixty degree check, to ensure he was alone and not being watched. The upstairs was dark, a peek of light came from a room on the bottom floor. He set the timer on his watch, the digits displayed fifteen minutes exact. Outside the weather had worsened and light speckles of snow had begun to fall, they lay upon the windscreen; melting away upon contact as the glass still held the warmth from the interior. His mouth gave the odd sharp tingle as he inhaled, his teeth still sore from his self-modification. He rested his head and closed his eyes, the previous thoughts of his childhood haunting him.

  He held her body for several hours, feel
ing the life escape her. He told their favourite story over and over, trying to keep her at ease. No tears were shed, no cry for comfort…..just the words that he spoke softly into her small ear. He gathered his belongings and spare clothing, the pockets of the beast held little money but he removed it without guilt. He turned before leaving the room, waiting to see if she would jump back to life…..she didn’t. He left the scene and headed in town, a collage of thoughts filled his mind. The bedsit was a known addicts hide away, the room was cheap and standards were less than adequate. He sat upon the stained mattress and considered his next move, unaffected by the loss of his father. Several days had passed and he came to the conclusion that he would stop by his uncles house, just on the outskirts of London. He would have questions to face but the answers he had planned. He left early one morning and headed for the nearest bus stop, the timetable offered the times to his location. He had waited for his bus to arrive, still feeling calm and un-fazed by the attack several days ago.

  Two buses later he had arrived, prepping the story he would tell his uncle. The house was small but hidden, privacy was not an issue as the walls were surrounded by foliage. The doorbell played a tune as he pressed it, movement seen from behind the distorted glass. He was ushered inside by a concerned face. The story he had told from behind a warm glass of milk, the ears listening were amazed at the young boys story……but believed what they were told. For years Russell lived with his uncle Adrian, home schooling was issued and he welcomed the fresh education. He worked for little cash but enjoyed the sense of adulthood, his body became larger and was toned to a satisfying shape with the gym equipment he stored in the large shed. He would sit and remove the picture of Sarah, the birthday cake he had made her when their father was away drowning his many sorrows. He would wander of her looks now if she still lived, where she would be…..where he would be. No tears would fall, no whimpers of a feeble cry.

  He had suffered from terrible dreams, not nightmares, he wasn’t scared of what his head showed him whilst he rested. He would see her body, drained and lifeless. He would see his father’s body, large and bloodied. He would hear the whispers from the unknown guest…..the panting from behind. The warm breathe brushed his cheek as the beast circled him, he felt no fear. The eyes appeared in the pitch black, large circles of glowing yellow; he would stare back keeping contact at all times. It would tell him things he had not heard, orders he had never received but excited him. He accustomed himself to the nights of a sweat ridden bed, the nose bleeds that came often. His uncle would say not to worry, it’s all part of growing up……but what he was growing up to be was a mystery he needed an answer for.

  He gave in to the voice that beckoned him, calling his name with a pant. It ushered him through dark voiles and corridors with no end. The passages he wandered within his restless mind had led nowhere, he stalked the empty paths; the temperature lowering to a numbing state. Still he searched. When resting, he would enter the maze of his brain, walking the lonely isles as the inner guest would call. He remembered well, the night he stumbled across the door. In all his years of dreams he had found no rooms or doorways, now he stood; the voice calling from the other side. He opened the door, intrigued to find the happenings on the other side. The snow chilled his naked skin, he felt no shame in his natural appearance; his skin draining to a pale grey colour. The trees engulfed the black surrounding him, he walked on with no fear. The cracking of debris within the woods caught his eye. Something moved with him as he walked, staying level and keeping the pace. The carpet beneath crunched as he flattened it, his prints left a trail of his route. He stopped, so did the guest, and gazed above at the yellow tint that the moon offered, his eyes wide with ore.

  You are becoming………you WILL become. He stood whilst the howl circled him, the beast ran to his side. He remained still as it leapt towards him, the claws ripping his flesh……still he stood, motionless.

  You WILL become.

  The barking from a nearby dog awoke him. He panicked, thinking he had lost his window of viewing. The digital reading on his watch displayed ten minutes forty three seconds remaining. His heart rate lowered and he adjusted his position, wiping his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He turned his head to face the house, the upstairs lights were brought to life and he watched as the man escorted his daughter up to her room. Through the binoculars he watched as Megan entered her room, her safe place, climbed upon the top of her wooden bunk bed. The room was dimly lit as her father extinguished the main light and turned on a smaller one, a book was balanced upon her open palms. He imagined himself reading her a story…….his favourite bed time tale. The show was ended by her curtains been fully closed. He felt annoyed, it had finished abruptly and several minutes still remained. He considered the state of his mind, his gums still throbbing, and decided to go home.

  Good bye Megan……….sweeeeeet dreeeeeeams. He blew her a kiss as the engine was started, he drove away slowly. The headlights came to life as he turned the corner and was out of sight.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The coffee tasted old as Nathan sipped it, the heat singing his top lip. He licked it too help cool the burnt flesh. The usual hustle and bustle of the building surrounded him and he sat within the chair, the cup warming his hands. He thought about home, about his wife. He realised he hadn’t spoken to her for several days and that no images or memories of his safe place had sprung in his mind. He felt terrible, as if he were cheating on the woman he loves by not thinking of her. His heart ached and he grunted the small lump away from his throat. He got to his feet, his knees cracked with age, and moved towards the exit; his spare hand searched for the mobile phone Jack gave him.

  The cold nipped his skin as he exited the building, the wind created a dull pain in his ears. He stood with the phone poised, his brain attempted to recall the number of Elle’s phone. Several seconds passed and with three failed attempts the ringing tone now filled his ear. He waited, longing to hear her sweet voice….he waited. The robotic voice requested he left a message and that he would be called back once the owner had listened to his message. He was devastated……maybe she doesn’t want to talk?....have I done something wrong?...what have I forgotten? The worrying questions swarmed his head, bouncing off the inside of his cranium and creating a mild headache. He moved back inside, the phone lowered into his pocket.

  Walking through the corridor he was met by a tired looking Jack. Their eyes appeared distant to each other and they both considered a good sleep.

  ‘Morning’ greeted Nathan

  ‘We have another package, arrived this morning. Be in the briefing room in ten….were going to open it and view the contents then’. He turned and headed away.

  Nathan met the blank faces of the team as they positioned them-selves for the opening of the parcel. William Lime was perched upon a desk, Nathan decided to sit as far away as possible, the arrogance leaked from his eccentric fashion dress. Their eyes met and Nathan was greeted with a slimy attempt of a smile.

  What the hell are you smiling at? His face remained expressionless, stone cold like his respect for the weasel of a man.

  Jack entered and the starring match was ended. He placed the brown envelope upon the desk and turned to the class.

  ‘Morning, I’m sure you’re all aware of what I have right here’ his finger aimed at the parcel.

  ‘We can also assume without opening it, what is in the package’ he turned his back to them as the envelope was carefully pulled open. He reached in and removed the Polaroid photos and disk. He collected the evidence and headed toward Doctor Lime, handing him the disc.

  ‘Do the honours’ he ordered. Lime followed his instructions and prepped the projector. Jack stood at the front of the class and looked upon the images in his hands. He showed no emotion. His eyes scanned the words placed at the bottom of each picture, my, what big ears you have….my, what big eyes you have…my, what big teeth you have. His stomach ached with fury.

  The Doctor gave a thumb up to show th
at the DVD was ready for viewing, Jack moved towards the light switch and decreased the brightness.

  The class sat in silence as they heard the same song as before. The howl filled the room.

  Nathan watched as the beast performed his ritual. The girl cried as the homemade claw sliced at her skin. He watched the Wolf stalk her in circles, admiring his kill. Nathan sat forward, noticing a difference in the movie.

  ‘Pause it….now pause it now!’ he bellowed, William gave a ‘tut’ as the footage was frozen. Nathan moved toward the large screen and stood to the left side.

  ‘There’s a difference…look upon the cabinet…there’ he pointed. The jar gave a slight glimmer as it caught the light, the pink colour plain to see.

  ‘He collects the hearts Jack…..he’s a trophy killer’.

  ***

  Russell awoke in his den. The needed rest had been caught up on and he leaned forward from the chair. He felt very awake, the pain from his mouth had decreased and he felt the urge to eat. He pondered for a moment on the choice of delicacy. He wanted meat…..fresh meat. He wanted to test his new teeth. The chair rocked slightly as he forced himself up and headed for the back door. The morning light stung his eyes; he wobbled to the shed before they could adjust. The key was removed from his pocket and he clicked open the lock. The movement could be heard from within the depths of the structure, the tiny feet scurrying to and fro. He illuminated the room and observed the small animals. He had decided to go one better then fresh meat…….he wanted to taste it whilst it still had a pulse, whilst its life pumped through its body. The rabbit squealed as he gripped its neck, the feet were thrown in all directions as it fought the hunter; knowing its fate. He withheld the urge to bite it and carried it back to the house, the padlock placed through the bracket and shut closed.

 

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