by West, Sam
“Your eyes are big and soulful, your bone structure delicate. Just because you have big eyes and a small chin, it doesn’t mean you look ratty.”
What the hell was she supposed to say to that, she wondered. Thanks?
Without warning, he leaned in to kiss her firmly on the mouth. Instinctively she recoiled, sickened by the feel of his lips on hers.
As soon as she had pulled away from him, she knew it as mistake. It was like a black cloud passed over his face. His previously sparkling eyes now looked flat and dead, his jawline set.
“So be it,” he said, getting to his feet. “We’ll talk about us later. But in the meantime…”
Us? Her skin suddenly felt like it was wrapped too tight around her body, crushing her skull and chest, leaving her dizzy and breathless. What does he mean, us?
The full magnitude of his insanity hit her full force there and then. Up until that point, he had resembled a human-being. A fucked up human-being, but a human-being nonetheless.
But now she saw him afresh for what he really was; a lunatic capable of anything. Madness had eaten away at him until there was no humanity left.
Her gaze slid back to him. She had tranced out for a second as the extent of his insanity sunk in. He was a few feet away from her and Megan, rummaging through his rucksack, chatting pleasantly as he did so.
“I hope you realise, Hazel, that it was Ryan who cancelled Steve, not the other way round. Seems like Ryan couldn’t bear his mate to get his meaty paws on his bit of fluff. The real Steve is in his phone as ‘Steve 2’. Original, huh?”
But Hazel was barely listening. Her head felt numb, like her brain had been injected with local anaesthetic. When he pulled out a large pair of garden secateurs, everything went a grainy black and white and the room swam. He held the vicious looking tool by the handles and snipped the long blades. They made a snick sound as they sliced through the air and Hazel felt her bowels churn and clench like she was about to shit herself.
“It’s time to play,” he said, grinning as he rapidly snipped the blades.
Panic clenched in her chest, a living, breathing thing that dimmed her vision and had her gasping for air. Just the thought of the damage he could do with the secateurs caused her head to spin out of control and the room faded to black.
CHAPTER TWO
When Hazel came to, Edward was standing over her, his feet planted either side of her shoulders. He peered down at her through the open ‘V’ of the secateurs. She didn’t know how long she had been out. Five minutes? Ten? Longer? She groaned and stared up at him in horror, paralysed by her own helplessness and fear.
“This is how it’s going to play out,” he said. “We are about to find out how much Ryan loves you. We are going to make him choose. Your life or hers,” he said, flicking his gaze to the now out-cold Megan next to them.
She doesn’t like the sight of the secateurs either, Hazel thought humourlessly.
Edward stepped over both of them, and she propped herself up on her elbows to watch. She discovered she was trembling so badly that she could hardly support her own weight.
“Did you hear that, lover-boy?” Edward said, lifting up his foot to poke him in the small of the back. “You have to choose. Should Hazel die, or Megan?”
“Please don’t kill me,” he sobbed, his voice cracking.
Hazel experienced another wave of disgust at Ryan. He was still only thinking of himself, even though it wasn’t his life that had just been threatened.
“That wasn’t the question, fuck-head. Bloody hell, Hazel, what did you ever see in this jerk?”
Awkwardly, she shrugged her shoulders, which was met with a brief smile from Edward. He turned his attention back to the matter at hand.
“Now, I’ll ask the question one more time, and if you continue to piss me around I’ll cut off your balls and make you wear them as earrings, understand?”
“Y-y-yes. Megan. I choose Megan.”
To her surprise, Hazel didn’t feel relief, just contempt. It just seemed like such an easy choice he made.
Selfish prick.
“So be it. I was only messing with you, ‘cause I was going to kill her anyway. I just wanted to hear you say it.” Ryan sobbed all the harder with his head turned away from them. “Now, my gutless friend, in order to save your own skin and that of your girlfriend’s, I want you to do me a favour. I’m going to untie your hands, and I want you to film what I do. It’s very important you do as I say, do you understand?”
“Yes,” he said tearfully and without hesitation.
“Good man.” Edward strode over to him. “Roll over,” he barked.
Ryan flopped onto his back, and Edward inserted the blades of the secateurs between the boy’s hands, effortlessly slicing through the electrical tape. Ryan rubbed his freed wrists, still sobbing softly. Edward shoved a mobile into Ryan’s trembling hands.
“Obviously, the call function has been disabled, but you’re a good boy, aren’t you Ryan? I doubt it would even occur to you to call the police because you know and I know you’d be dead before they got here. I know you’re going to do exactly as I say. Aren’t you?”
“Y-yes.”
Edward nodded curtly, then turned his gaze back to Hazel. His brown eyes were sparkling again and Hazel was bowled over by a surge of hatred so strong that the room reeled. As soon as the opportunity arose, she was going to kill him. And she was going to enjoy it.
“But before we get started, I’m going to have to fix you up, Hazel. I don’t trust you, I think you might try to sabotage my documentary.” He picked up the discarded roll of tape and crouched down next to her once more. “Hands, please.”
Hazel looked up into his eyes, and then at the secateurs he had placed on the floor within easy reach. He stretched his arms out towards her, the knife still dangling from the fingers of the hand that held the unrolled end of the silver tape.
Hazel didn’t think, she acted. Instead of offering up her hands as he expected her to do, she threw herself sideways at him so that they tumbled to the floor in an ungainly heap with her on top. She felt the air rush out of him with a satisfying sounding woomph, and she drove home her advantage, rolling into the arm that held the knife, crushing it to the floor with her full bodyweight. She heard the clatter of the blade hitting the floorboards and she rolled off him at the same moment, hurtling herself towards the secateurs as she did so.
“Stay back,” she panted, lying awkwardly on her side and brandishing the secateurs at him. The tips of the gleaming blades were just inches from his face and they shook violently in her trembling hands.
Edward propped himself up on his elbows, threw back his head, and laughed. “And what in God’s name do you intend to do with those? Fuck…”
He rolled sideways when the secateurs jabbed at his face, narrowly missing.
Shit, I almost had him. The fact was, he was too fast and she was too numbed by terror.
She didn’t give up. She scooted after him, rearing up on her knees and lunging for him with the secateurs, keeping the scissor blades pressed together to form a knife. Again, he dodged the blades, effortlessly rolling out of reach.
But she knew she still had the slight advantage. He hadn’t yet managed to get to his feet, all she had to do was stab him somewhere, anywhere, wound him enough to immobilise him and then drive the secateurs into his chest or face…
A heavy weight came crashing down on her upper back and head, knocking her forwards to the ground. Stunned, she lay sprawled on her face wondering what the hell had just happened. The weapon jerked out of her hands on her descent and she grunted in pain, her breasts connecting hard with the wooden floor, bashing the air from her lungs. The dead weight remained on her back, crushing her into the floor.
“…got her.”
Then it twigged.
The bastard, the complete, fucking, stupid bastard…
She wanted to ask him why. Why her own boyfriend would want her dead. Doing nothing was one thing, but helping t
hat sadistic son-of-a-bitch? But the words would not come.
Edward started to laugh and he didn’t stop. He got to his feet, still laughing, wiping the tears from his face.
“Oh God, that’s just too good, I wish I had that on film. And with your feet tied, too. I can’t say I’ve seen anyone hop like that. Ryan, you are priceless.”
“Does that mean you won’t kill me now?”
Ryan’s voice was loud in her ear, given that he was still slumped on top of her.
Edward didn’t answer straight away, he was laughing too much. “Do me a favour Ryan, when you get off her, would you mind lifting up her head by her hair and giving her forehead a little smack on the floor? Not hard enough to knock her out or anything, but just hard enough to subdue her while I tie her up.”
Hazel listened to the exchange in stark disbelief. She expected Ryan to protest, even if it was feebly. But no. She felt the weight shift slightly on her back and his hand fisting her hair. Fleetingly, she thought of how loving those same fingers had been once upon a time, in another life, another world. She remembered all the times that she had gladly let those fingers explore every inch of her willing body.
Now all she wanted to do was cut them off with the secateurs.
Such thoughts were pushed out of her head when he brought her forehead crashing down to the ground. She heard the sickening crunch deep inside her skull and stars danced behind her closed eyelids. A wave of nausea rose up and she groaned in abject misery.
Edward’s voice sounded far away when he spoke and was almost drowned out by the ringing in her ears.
“That was a little harder than I was expecting, but good for you, Ryan.”
Hazel felt the weight lift from her back and she gulped down a great mouthful of air. Every bit of her ached, especially her head which throbbed in time to her rapid pulse.
“Roll over.”
Edward’s hated voice splintered her brain before she was manhandled onto her back. She rolled over without resistance, her eyes still squeezed tightly shut.
“You have been a very naughty girl, Hazel. You’ll regret going for me like that.”
Somehow, she doubted it. Her only regret was she hadn’t killed him when she’d had the chance. She turned her spinning head away when she felt the sticky tape at her wrists and kept her eyes closed, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear. She didn’t even know where Ryan was, and she didn’t care. As far as she was concerned, he was dead to her.
When he was done with her wrists, she expected to feel the tape at her ankles, but it didn’t happen.
You’re underestimating me, motherfucker. You’ll regret that...
“There, all done. I’d like you to open your eyes now, we’re all set.”
She didn’t respond and just stayed where she was with her head turned to the side and her eyes closed, her hands bound and resting on her rapidly hitching chest.
“I said open your eyes. If you don’t, it will be a lot worse for all of you.”
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and glared at Edward. The sight of him turned her blood to ice. He was kneeling between Megan’s spread knees, the tape which had previously bound her ankles now cut. The tips of the slightly parted blades of the secateurs pressed between her legs.
“No,” she silently mouthed, struggling to sit up.
“You can sit up, but don’t move from that spot so much as an inch. If you keep on misbehaving I’ll do you first.”
It wasn’t the threat to herself that kept her still, it was the knowledge that whatever she did at this point would only make matters worse for all of them. She struggled into a sitting position with her hands clasped meekly in her lap. Her wrists were beginning to throb with the tightness of the tape and her fingers were rapidly growing cold and numb. When she craned her neck to look at Ryan on the sofa, the view of the room took a second to follow the trajectory of her head. He was sitting there, perfectly still and calm, holding up the smartphone and pointing it in the direction of the three of them. Apart from looking a whiter shade of pale, his face was immobile and the tears appeared to have dried up.
He’s playing his part perfectly. He thinks Edward will let him live if he does everything right…
“You filming this okay, Ryan?”
“Yes.”
“Are we all in the frame? No missing limbs or heads?”
“No.”
“Not yet, anyway. Try and keep the phone still, no matter what I do. But don’t worry too much if you get a little shaky here and there, it has in-house stabilisation. I know, I know, I’m such a geek. It’s amazing what you can do with smartphones nowadays, I’m not the first to make documentary on a mobile. Guys my age have won bloody Oscars for homemade films like this. Well, maybe not quite like this one, this one is going to be very special indeed. It’s gonna blow all the others away.”
“You don’t have to do this, Edward, It’s not too late,” Hazel said. “Nothing’s happened. If you stop now, if you just go, we’ll never speak of this again.”
“I wonder how many other people said that to my dad?”
Just keep him talking. “Your dad?”
“Yeah, my dad. He was a serial killer. But my bitch of a mother went and fucking murdered him the night I was conceived.”
His words made little sense to her. All she knew was that the more he talked, the less likely he was going to do something unspeakable to Megan with the secateurs that were still poised between her legs. Megan moaned softly, still half out of it.
“Are you serious?” she asked, marvelling at the calm quality of her voice, hoping she had struck the right balance between interested and awe-struck. She was dealing with a madman, after all.
“Deadly. His name was Jason Jacks. Have you heard of him?”
And there it was. The question that demanded the prefect answer. Edward wanted her to of heard of him. “Yes, I do believe I have,” she said slowly, her skin suddenly feeling tight and crawly.
She wasn’t sure, and she didn’t take much interest in serial killers like a lot of people did, but she knew the name. As far as she knew, he was up there fame-wise with the Yorkshire Ripper.
Wasn’t he the psycho that went around murdering couples? Suddenly, Edward’s actions started to make a little more sense.
She didn’t have time to ponder on it for long.
“I reckon the old man would’ve been so proud of me right now.”
Megan let out an unholy scream and sat bolt upright when Edward shoved the secateurs inside her. Despite the knickers in her mouth, she made such a high-pithed noise that Hazel had to cover her ears. Megan’s eyes bulged in her sweat drenched face and her breasts jerked with her hyperventilation.
“No,” Hazel groaned, but she was drowned out by Megan.
Before she had time to turn her head she was witness to the parted blades disappear up inside the screeching girl. She no longer sounded human and Hazel flopped onto her side and curled up in the foetal position.
But she was too late. She had seen the blades go in, she had seen the eruption of blood like the period from hell. She doubted the image would ever leave her until the day she drew her dying breath.
“Please, God,” she whimpered, momentarily delirious with her own fear and misery.
“Shut up,” Edward roared.
For a second, Hazel thought he was talking to her and she cringed in terror. Then came a sickening crack, followed by silence.
She didn’t have to look to know that Edward must have smacked the back of Megan’s head on the floorboards and knocked her out.
“Do either of you know what the wall between the cunt-hole and the arsehole is called? I’m sure it’s got a name.”
Hazel didn’t reply, she couldn’t reply, even if she wanted to.
“It’s surprisingly tough to cut through, really firm and springy,” he continued.
An almighty retching noise made her jump and her head automatically swivelled in the direction of the noise.
Ryan was bent double, chucking up the contents of his stomach on the floor. Absently, Hazel noticed some lumps of pepperoni and sweetcorn from the frozen pizza they had shared earlier.
Edward sprang to his feet, making her jump once more. The t-shirt that he wore over a long-sleeved shirt was wet with blood and she felt dizzy just looking at him.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you useless cunt?” Edward raged. “I told you to film this, not puke up and drop the phone. Jesus Christ, you stupid, useless, fucking cunt.”
His sudden rage was terrifying. Blood splattered and still brandishing the secateurs, looking at Edward was like staring into the very pits of hell.
“I’m sorry,” Ryan said, cringing like a beaten dog.
“You will be if you don’t do as you’re told,” Edward said, opening up the secateurs to their full capacity and placing the blades either side of his neck.
“Pl-pl-please don’t hurt me,” Ryan said thickly through tears and the regurgitated pizza that must have been stinging his throat to buggery.
“I won’t hurt you if you disobey me, I’ll fucking kill you. All I asked you to do was one simple thing, you stupid, two-timing, fucking half-wit.”
Without warning, he placed the secateurs to the side of his head and brought the blades together. Ryan let out a howl that made Hazel’s toes curl.
“Oh relax, it was only the fucking lobe, it’s not like you’ve lost the whole damn thing. Why don’t you just shut the fuck up?”
Miraculously, Ryan did. Or rather, the screaming stopped to be replaced by sobs and whimpers. But apparently it wasn’t enough to satisfy Edward. Hazel watched in horror as the incensed Edward rained blows down on her wailing boyfriend.
At least he’s just using his fists and not the weapons… The weapons.
Her mind pricked its metaphorical ears. His rucksack must be full of them.
It was so close, resting just beyond Megan’s feet. All she had to do was shuffle over the short distance and look inside. Perhaps there was even a gun in there. Although she very much doubted it, she had a feeling that a gun wasn’t his style. Where would be the fun in shooting someone if torture was on your mind?
