by Unknown
Still no clue as to what he wanted from me, what he thought I knew.
I looked past the image to where the suit sat, and attempted to gaze beyond the dark pools of his shades, to discover whether any degree of humanity lurked behind them.
‘Auntie’s’ image vanished abruptly, to be replaced by another.
There was no way I could have hidden my reaction at seeing that face, wired-up chair or not.
“Ah, good. I’m glad to see you recognise her as well. We know that she’s your contact, the third member of your little cell, but so far she’s managed to elude us. Now, does this have to turn ugly, or are you going to tell us where we can find her?”
For long seconds I simply stared, wondering if this were all some surreal nightmare. Hovering above the surface of the table was a vision of beauty – the image of the girl I had murdered and dumped in a refuse bin just a couple of hours earlier.
“Oh yes,” I said, speaking at last as the final sparks of defiance and hope within me turned to ash. “I can tell you exactly where to find her.”
Red Monkeys
Rebecca Latyntseva
It was an ordinary, hung-over winter dawn, crows cawing in dissonant harmony with Papa’s snoring. Larisa edged out of bed, wincing as razorblading pain slashed. Navigating her way through an obstacle course of empty Stolichnaya bottles, handcuffs, full ashtrays and whips, she zigzagged into the bathroom.
As she tended to the wound above her eyebrow, dabbing vodka into raw flesh, Larisa tried to sluice her mind of thoughts and let them spiral down the plughole. Gazing at the reflection of a strange stranger girl, green eyes extinguished by sorrow; that long, dark medusa hair which he’d noose around her throat in moments of ‘passion’...
The doorbell shattered the mirror image into a thousand pieces. She hobbled to the door. A man in a broad-brimmed hat was holding out a letter, his eyes so light they seemed to be devoid of pupils. He smiled and nodded as Larisa signed for it.
‘Good luck, young lady,’ he rasped. He seemed semi-opaque... or semi-transparent. A cocktail of pain and sleep deficit and alcohol was apparently befuddling her vision: Larisa could just distinguish the wall behind him, through him.
Perching on the edge of the bath, she studied the envelope. A Moscow postmark. Strange. She had no friends or relatives from there. For that matter, she had no one from anywhere.
Larisa squinted in the attempt to focus on the almost indecipherable scrawl.
larisalarisalariiiiiiiiiiisa listen to me quikquikquikly, ya gotta read this & soak it upupup into yr essence fore its toooooooo :::::::::::o but is tragic::::::::: late. time trickles on&on&on, that burbling gurgling stream ov seeped up me-mories... I know xactly what you plan feel you have must oght to do. butbutbut <<
Heart pounding, Larisa ripped up the letter and flushed it down the toilet. The demented ravings of one of Papa’s past victims. How many young girls had he infected with his poisonous lust? Larisa stumbled into the bedroom. The stench of last night’s rancid emissions hung in the air. She observed Papa’s soporifing form as if for the first time. His blood-smudged powertool, that drilling manhood, shrouded in red-stained sheets; wrinkle maps wending their way down his face, dripping into his dewlap. Old enough to be her grandpapa, he’d eject her into backpacked homelessness before too long, and kidnap his next child wife.
Seconds ticked into minutes tocked into hours ticked into days... Larisa was put to work, as usual, servicing Papa’s ‘colleagues’. Legs splayed, body numb, and mind astral gliding through clouds of thought. The letter, though quickly read and destroyed, was etched on her retinae and as she clamped her eyes shut, to avoid the visual atrocity of a sweating, panting Neanderthal, so the scrawling handwritten message danced in Larisa’s mind. An idea was slowly forming... tenuous as summer mist at first... Horrified at her own horrificness, she tried to banish this idea, to prevent it from crystallizing. She remembered her suicidal mother’s last words: ‘If someone tells you not to think of red monkeys, what do you think of?’
When Papa was out and about machinating business deals, Larisa paced the apartment, grappling with the red monkeys hanging upside-down from branches in her mind. Household objects were slowly eroding their innocence: a cast iron frying pan, no longer the receptacle for risotto, could be raised high and smashed down on an unsuspecting skull... She had never contemplated butchering Papa until that rambling message from a madwoman urged her to abstain from killing him. The misty idea gradually seasoned into a block of ice. There were so many recipes for death, a murderous cornucopia. Kitchen knives were the obvious contenders, blunderingly brutal and leaving sanguineous trails of clues for detectives to sniff around. Heeding the letter’s advice, Larisa resolved to be tiptoetiptoetiptoe cautious. Within a few months – freedom.
Eyes resurrected and sparkling with life, Larisa bustled around the kitchen, assembling the ingredients for her cordon bleu borshcht.
Dr Arkadii Pavlov
Serbskaya High Security Psychiatric Prison, Moscow
Report # 973 ref: 173/lt/9056837
Patient: Larisa Tarasova, d.o.b. 09.12. 1992
Patient ref: 173/LT
Date: 08.09.2010
HISTORY OF PRESENT ILLNESS:
173/LT was detained by the authorities as the main suspect in the murder, through arsenic poisoning, of her stepfather, Nikolai Belkov. Cause of death: Multi-system organ failure due to ingestion of arsenic. The victim was pronounced dead on 02.01.2010. Autopsy order: Suspect foul play. 173/LT was examined by myself, in capacity of Expert Witness, from 05.03.2010 to this present day. 173/LT was sentenced to life imprisonment at Serbskaya High Security Psychiatric Prison, Moscow, on the basis of my conclusions.
INITIAL PRESENTATION:
173/LT’s initial symptoms were of ontological insecurity. Her affect indicated severe delusions, in tandem with visual hallucination, such as her insistence that ‘a letter from a mad woman’ prompted her to murder Mr. Belkov.
173/LT manifested symptoms of persecution mania, claiming that she had been physically abused by the victim. The court ordered a medical examination of 173/LT and concluded that while 173/LT suffered from internal vaginal and anal lesions, bruising to the limbs, razor cuts to the arms and back and facial scarring, there was no evidence to indicate that these bodily injuries were inflicted by Mr. Belkov. I stated that, in view of her onset psychosis, these injuries were, in all probability, self-inflicted. Therefore no mitigating circumstances could be cited in this case.
173/LT’s behaviour became increasingly aggressive, prior to medication. She displayed sociopathic traits such as shouting, screaming, cursing and, on one occasion, she attempted to attack myself as well as my assistant.
TREATMENT:
On 06.04.2010, 173/LT was administered a loading dose of Largactil IM 50 mg. Largactil and normal saline IV piggyback will be instituted.
173/LT will be treated conservatively with medical management. Should this conservative approach not prove efficacious, ECT will be the next step in the treatment protocol.
Through the hospital course, 173/LT’s differential diagnosis has been expa
nded to include schizo-affective disorder with paranoid ideation, dissociative state, and progressive catatonia.
173/LT refuses oral intake. She is incontinent of urine and her kidney function cannot be measured.
173/LT has brief remissions from catatonia during which she demonstrates echolalia (repetition of words spoken by other inmates) and perseveration (obsession re: phrase ‘red monkey’)
173/LT is highly delusional with visual and auditory hallucinations.
173/LT no longer displays aggressive tendencies.
I have approved 173/LT’s request for writing materials. When she is in remission from petrification, her primary activity is writing. Hypergraphia is suspected, but this will have to be further examined before diagnosis. Diagnostic investigation will include samples of 173/LT’s own handwritten materials to augment psychiatric observations, conclusions, and plan of care.
PLAN:
Continue medical management. Monitor vital signs q 4-6 hours. Place 173/LT on 24-hour suicide watch. Obtain GI and surgical consult for G-tube placement to provide parenteral nutrition should anorexia be ongoing. 173/LT is Full Code Status, does not have a Living Will and has no Durable Power of Attorney.
hi-hello & how are you, mister paper paperovich??? sosososo de-lighted to meet your acquaintance at looooong last... what??? you I want to shake my shaking hand??? hey heey heeeeey, you want me to wave my ::::::::abracadabra:::::::::: magic pen & turn you into the dearist of diaries???
~~~~~~~ one...........
~~~~~~~~~~~~two..........
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~three........
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>bangbangbang & a shower of exploding stars<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
someday the somethingth of somemonth, two thousand & whatever
o it was haaaaaaaaaard work getting my hands on you, dearistdiary. doctor pavlov-dog huuuuum’d & haaaaaaaar’d & deliberately deliberated... perchance he thght I cld origami you into a paper dagger & stab him in his dead heart??? methinks not.... oooooononononooooooo... hes got xray eyes, that crepe-soled creep... peeeeeeking through my dressing gown, peeeeering at my female organs. lil miss blown-up dolly parted her legs one more time while he fakked me on his diagnostic desk. his fountain pen has an :::::::::::ouchies!!!::::::::::::::: sharp nib.... I slipped it in my pocket while he was aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaa-aaaaaaa-aaaaaaaaaa-ooooooooo-oooooooooooooooooooooo sneezing his lust into me. but no.... im not using doctor pavlovdogs pen for you, dearistdiary. im sososososo sorry butbutbut I hav but the bluntiest & stumpiest of pencil stubs for you. the fountain pen will hav another destiny.... an all-to-gether different sheath..... stabouthisxrayeyeeyes.
someday the somethingth of somemonth, two thousand & whatever
sorry im late, dearistdiary... mrs matronly matron jabbed a needleful of magicliquid in my butt & i.........i.............i................... I think I flew all the way to afrika & hi-hello’d an elefantchief & got back just in time for supper. which I pooooured & squished into my pillowcase. no waaaaaaay am I gonna let them poison me with their cockroach soup & cannibal sausages.
remember the red monkeys???
o but im forgetting my manners :::::::::badgal gets spankies from papa again:::::::::: may I intro you to my good friend??? he says his name is hermes. hes very shy & silent butbutbut hes volunteered to be my messenger tween here & somewhere..... cos altho im getting thin as a rope, I still cant slip through those bars & escape. maybe one day..... soooome daaaay...........
someday the somethingth of somemonth, two thousand & whatever
im writing this entered entry :::::knockknock whos theeeeere???::::::: under a different date altho i no know altho i no know altho i no know if this day is different. if this different is day. or nite. or dark. or light. theres these slivers ov sky thro the bars butbutbut the skycolours bruise in & out they go & come sososo quikquik I cant keep up with them. hermes eyes are the colour ov a colourless sky, wldnt ya say, dearistdiary??? he keeps insissisisisting that I hav got to – I just hav to hav to hav to – write a letter to this girl, larisa & that larisa = me.... o-oh-oh, I = so-oh-oh confooooooooosed.
I cant remember why im remembering those red monkeys. can you pleaseprettyplease en-light-en me???
someday the somethingth of somemonth, two thousand & whatever
doctorpavlovdog looked tried & tired & driet & ridet today. he cant hopscotch into my mind, I why. no body can. there are special secret passwords & codes. he mumbled about electroconvulsion... oooooooooo that sounds like funfunfun..... he thinks he can feast on my imagoscape after hes sizzled it with voltages??? xaxaxaxaxaxaxaaaaaa therell be nothing left butbutbut charred remains of thoughts swathed in smoke, the fak-fak-fakwit.
I cant remember why im remembering that I cant remember those red monkeys.....
hermes, o hes sososososo sweetiepiekins, I you just looove his hat???, offered to de-liver this letter to larisa-me from me-larisa... I hate to be rude butbutbut I do suspect hes just the intsy-wintsiest bit madcrazy. I you??? weeeeeeell, if he obsessssses about de-livering this message, so be it.......
ill start writing it now, shall i???
larisalarisalariiiiiiiiiiisa listen to me quikquikquikly, ya gotta read this & soak it upupup into yr essence fore its toooooooo
About the Editors
Geoff Nelder is from Chester, England. Mr. Nelder is a Post-Graduate Fellow of the Royal Meteorological Society and the author of a reference book on the weather.
His previous works include the novels Escaping Reality and Exit, Pursued by a Bee. He is the senior proof editor and co-founder of Adventure Books of Seattle.
Although he is modest about it, Mr. Nelder is also a former computing teacher and the holder of several degrees.
Robert Blevins is from Seattle, U.S.A. His previous works include the sci-fi novel The 13th Day of Christmas and the controversial non-fiction book, Into the Blast – The True Story of D.B. Cooper, which alleged that Kenneth Peter Christiansen, a former U.S. Army paratrooper and airline employee, was the famous skyjacker. The book was the subject of a recent episode on the History Channel program Brad Meltzer’s Decoded.
Table of Contents
Finding Farber.......................................T.M. Crone
Zuggyzu and the Humans.....................Sheila Crosby
A Smaller Step...............................Michael Anderson
The Zozoian..........................................Duane Byers
Sixes, Sevens..........................................Simon Petrie
Birthright...................................................Ian Smith
Being of Sound Mind..................................Roy Gray
Auditory Crescendo.................................Geoff Nelder
Caveat Emptor!..........................................Bec Zugor
First Class........................................Barbara Krasnoff
Heaven As Iron, Earth as Brass....Richard J. Goldstein
Galactic Collision................ Poem by Magdalena Ball
Testing......................................................Kaolin Fire
Freer Enterprise............................Lawrence Buentello
The Rising Cost of Insurance.............Branden Johnson
Caitlin Invisible......................................Ben Bamber
Scream Quietly......................................Sheila Crosby
An Empty Kind of Love........................Adam Colston
Hole Card...........................................Robert Blevins
Chester...................................................Karl Bunker
Perfection of the Mind............David Wallace Fleming
Borrowed Time...............................Gustavo Bondoni
The Inn Between............................Michael Anderson
The Prettiest Star.......................................Jaine Fenn
One Way Trip...........................................Rick Novy
The Cat Comes Back......
Cartoon by Roberta Gregory
The Shower..............................Mark and Tony Ricca
Outside the Grid........................................D.J. Emry
Silver.............................................Derek Rutherford
Free Market..........................................Gavin J. Carr
Jutzi Coblentz – Amish Time Traveler....Joshua Blanc
Relativity..........................................Gareth D. Jones
Oveio..................................................Kevin Gordon
Target Audience.......................................Mark Lewis
The Insult.............................................Paul Freeman
Goodbye Maggie..........................Catherine Edmunds
Of Honeysuckle and Sunsets......Koscienski and Pisano
Doc.....................................................Barry Pomeroy
Symbiosis .......................................Jonathan Pinnock
It’s Easier to Pretend in the Dark.......David Tallerman
Wet Life............................................Gayle Applegate
One Long Holiday...............................Ben Cheetham
