Sweet Oblivion

by Rhiana Ramsey

  ‘Cheers. Thanks very much,’ his voice was deep and gravely; he even sounded like a rock star.

  ‘No problem,’ Robert replied, nodding back and exhaling another cloud of smoke.

  The stranger looked Robert up and down, and then looked back at the entrance.

  ‘You going in, then? Or are you just… enjoying the view?’ The stranger asked, with a wry smile. He ran a hand through his thick hair and squinted at Robert as if trying to work him out.

  ‘No, no, not going in. I don’t have an invite,’ Robert replied, thinking fast ‘and I don’t know how to get one.’ Perhaps he could use this unexpected encounter to his advantage?

  ‘You don’t know how to get one?’ the stranger seemed unconvinced and Robert guessed he was going to have to play the part of a frustrated husband who needed new kicks without his wife’s knowledge.

  Margaret, forgive me my love. This is just work, I promise.

  ‘Well, no. I’m new to all this, or rather, I’ve never been able to try it out. My wife isn’t exactly open-minded, if you know what I’m saying.’

  ‘Ah,’ the stranger seemed uninterested and began to turn his back on Robert. Fearing he may be about to lose a potential source of information, Robert changed tack.

  ‘I’m guessing I could probably find out more online, but my wife shares the computer and I wouldn’t want her finding out. Any papers or mags you can recommend?’

  ‘There are a few,’ the stranger said, turning back to face him, ‘but seriously, online is best.’

  ‘Why’s that?’ Robert asked, hoping to appear earnest.

  The stranger eyed him again and then asked: ‘So, what are you?’

  The question was clearly a test to check Robert really was interested in the bondage scene. Why all the secrecy? Robert mused, but then he supposed the social stigma surrounding bondage was probably enough to make anyone at least a little cautious. Look at Tony Jessop’s reaction.

  ‘I’m a switch. Or at least I’d like to be. I want both subservience and to be subservient,’ he replied, hoping he sounded convincing enough for the stranger to let his guard down, or at least let it down enough so Robert could find out how the hell someone could get into this exclusive club.

  ‘I see. So how’d you find out about this place?’ the stranger asked, clearly suspicious.

  ‘I found a card in the back of a cab,’ Robert dug out his wallet and produced the card Janet Saunders had given him for the stranger’s inspection.

  He looked at it and then back at Robert.

  ‘You need to get yourself online. There are loads of sites where you can find out where the next event is going to happen. Some of them get moved around. Lots of people don’t like these sorts of clubs, they get fucked off with ‘freaks’ frequenting their area. This place is invite only, and you can only get an invite on the club’s website. It‘s open most nights though, just some nights have special guests and activities. And some nights you want to go somewhere else, you know?’

  Robert couldn’t imagine what sort of guests and activities would be on the agenda in a place like The Garden.

  ‘Wow, I didn’t know people were so hostile. But then as I said, I haven’t been able to experience it yet,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah, sometimes people are really aggressive. That’s another reason for the invitations. You kind of need to know who’s coming and going cos the stuff in there is private. Don’t want any ol’ fucker coming in and no head cases.’

  ‘I get it. But what about someone like me who’s never been to anything like this before? Have I got to sign up or something?’ Robert asked.

  ‘Yeah, you need to set up a user name and so on. Piece of piss.’ The stranger threw his cigarette onto the floor and crushed it beneath his big black boot. Robert quickly offered him another one from his packet, wanting to keep the man talking for as long as possible. He took it and lit it from the flame held in Robert’s hand. Robert lit another one too.

  ‘These events are held regularly then?’ Robert injected a note of excitement into his voice, which wasn’t entirely faked. He was getting excited at the prospect of learning how to become part of this world, to become part of the killer’s world.

  ‘Yeah. As I said, this place is open almost every night. Others just spring up as and when. Depends what you’re into really.’

  ‘I wish my wife was willing to try this with me. Is that going to be a problem, me turning up on my own?’

  ‘Not necessarily. Everyone in there is liberal. It’ll all depend on what you want or what you want to do,’ the stranger was grinning at him now, ‘after all, it is all about fantasy, right?’

  Robert smiled back, ‘I’m hoping to find that out.’

  ‘What would you have done if you hadn’t been able to chat to me?’ the man asked.

  ‘I was thinking about mustering up the courage to ask the guy on the door,’ Robert lied.

  ‘He wouldn’t have told you anything.’

  ‘Then I guess I would have just continued this miserable existence.’

  ‘Miserable huh? Well, get yourself online and get signed up.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll do that.’

  ‘When you get in there you’ll think you died and went to heaven. You’ve never seen anything like it. ‘

  ‘I can’t wait. Hey, just curious, are most people regulars, or do people come from all over?’

  The stranger looked at him quizzically, obviously wondering why he had asked the question.

  ‘I’m just worried about the wife finding out, you know? All the same faces. What if I bump into someone on the street when I’m with her?’

  The explanation seemed to satisfy the mystery man.

  ‘I see. There are certain rules. You don’t discuss anything that happens inside a club, you don’t tell anyone your real name, unless you really want to, and you don’t acknowledge each other outside the club. You’re not alone in your predicament. Lots of people can’t tell their partners where they’re going of an evening.’

  Shit. That was going to make for difficult, uncommunicative witnesses and would mean that obtaining the registration information of those that downloaded invites would probably be as good as useless if there was no requirement to actually use your own name.

  ‘Anyway, I’ve got somewhere to be. Thanks for the light and the cigarette.’ Obviously the conversation was over. Robert smiled.

  ‘Thanks for the chat. You have no idea how much you’ve helped me.’

  ************************************************

  Louise was laughing so much that her sides actually hurt. She was sat on the sofa in Ben’s living room and the pair were giggling like a couple of children that had just performed an infantile prank. The bottle and a half of wine she had consumed probably had something to do with her bout of giggles, but Louise wasn’t complaining. It felt so good to be laughing.

  Her world had been turned upside down by Steve’s infidelity, especially because it was with that bitch Melissa and then he had lied to her face at the cottage. He was no better than the other men she had known in her life; a liar, a cheat and selfish. She felt wounded and emotionally bereft. That on top of the ‘list of doom’ she’d compiled for Ben and the visions of the last few days, it was little wonder she felt pretty damn miserable; she certainly hadn’t felt much like laughing over the past few days. Now though, she was having a great time.

  As their laughter subsided, they sat back and rested their heads on the large cushioned sofa-back, side by side, relaxed in each other’s company. Louise looked at Ben and smiled, almost setting off another fit of chuckling as he grinned back.

  ‘Thanks for letting me stay over Ben. I promise I’ll be the perfect guest. I won’t throw up in the spare room and I’ll even put the toilet seat back up for you,’ she joked.

  ‘You’re very welcome. I don’t like the idea of you sitting home alone pinning for numb nuts. The man is not worthy of your tears,’ Ben replied. Louise nodded.

  ‘Like I said, thank
s. I don’t really want to go home for a bit anyway as it goes,’ Louise reached towards the coffee table to pick up her glass of wine and almost slid off the sofa.

  ‘Oops,’ she sniggered, picking the glass up with a wavering hand and settling back against the sofa cushions. Ben laughed then looked at her quizzically.

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘Oh, it’s just I had one of my vision things in the flat and it was fucking creepy. I thought I saw some bloke in my kitchen, he was just stood there laughing at me and he had blood on his hands. I actually threw a vase at him, can you believe that? I threw a vase at a vision! Ha!’ she started laughing again, ‘I threw a vase at a vision!’ Ben smiled despite himself; the mental imagery was actually quite funny.

  ‘The really weird thing about it though, is I don’t know what I did afterwards, after I broke my vase. I left the flat but I don’t know where I went, who I saw or even what I did. I woke up in my flat though, so I guess I can’t have gone far. I guess I probably just went for a drive around to clear my head or something,’ she looked at Ben, trying to work out what he was thinking.

  ‘Had you been drinking?’ he asked, glancing at her glass of wine.

  ‘Nope. Not a drop.’

  ‘Well Ms Jackson, you are one strange cookie,’ he teased.

  ‘Don’t I know it! Come to think of it, I don’t really know what I did after coming back from Cornwall either.’

  Louise frowned, trying to recall events.

  ‘Nope, don’t remember.’

  ‘That’s a bit worrying Louise. I wish you had spoken to the doctor you know. Would you go if I came with you?’ he asked, genuinely concerned. Louise was touched.

  ‘No, I really don’t want to go. They’ll just think I’m a loon. Seriously. I’m just going to take it easy for a few days. I will take you up on that offer for some time off and just relax. I’m sure it’s just stress. I need to get over Steve. Bastard. But I tell you, I am so glad I punched that bitch Melissa. I’ve been wanting to do that for ages, even before I knew she and Steve, that she and Steve, well…’ her voice trailed off. She didn’t feel like laughing anymore. She suddenly felt hollow and alone again.

  Ben reached out and took hold of her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

  ‘It must have been awful for you, seeing her like that and finding out as you did. The man really isn’t worth it Louise. You’re better off without him.’

  ‘Thanks Ben. I don’t know what I’d do without you right now,’ she smiled at him sadly.

  ‘Personally, I think the man’s a fool. He was lucky to have you.’

  Louise looked at him. He was gorgeous, he was kind, he was considerate. She couldn’t imagine him ever hurting her. She slid closer to him on the couch and looked into his face. Suddenly she moved forward and kissed him, her lips against his, her body pressing against his side. She was surprised when Ben firmly but gently pushed her away from him, his hands on her shoulders pushing her back.

  ‘Louise. Don’t,’ he said gently.

  Louise looked down and felt tears welling up in her eyes. She felt so lost, so alone, she just wanted some affection. And now here she was crying again.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’ve made a twat of myself.’

  ‘No you haven’t, honestly. I think you’re amazing, but this isn’t right. You’re not in a good place right now, your head is all over the place. And you’ve had a fair few glasses of the ol’ vino,’ he smiled at her and gently wiped a tear off her cheek. ‘I could never, never, take advantage of you,’

  Louise looked at him, her eyes sad and moist. It broke Ben’s heart to see her looking so vulnerable. She was a beautiful woman both inside and out. He wished he could make her pain go away, protect her from the world.

  ‘I’m so sorry Ben. So sorry,’ she began to sob.

  ‘Come on, it’s alright. It doesn’t change anything between us, ok? I’ll always be here for you.’

  As he spoke Louise turned her body into his and buried her head in his chest, her hot tears dampening his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her and held her, letting her cry against him. He didn’t know how long he held her, but eventually her body stopped shaking and he could no longer hear her crying.

  ‘Louise?’ he whispered softly in her ear. She didn’t respond. He said her name again but she still didn’t stir. He could tell by the rhythm of her breathing that she had fallen asleep, wrapped up in his arms.

  Ben gently moved Louise off him; she didn’t wake. He picked her up off the sofa and carried her up stairs to the spare bedroom, twisting and turning his body as he negotiated his way through the house, ensuring Louise’s legs and head didn’t come into contact with anything. She didn’t move, still dead to the world, a mixture of alcohol and exhaustion. Upstairs, Ben gently placed her on the bed in the spare room, laying her on her side, and then pulled the duvet up around her. She looked so peaceful. He hoped her slumber would be equally serene.

  Chapter XXI

  She could hear his footsteps in the room above, hear him pacing around, clanging pots together, dishes being picked up and put down. She could hear muffled voices, a female’s and a male’s, the conversation sounding animated as always. She heard stomping footsteps, lighter than his, and then heard a door slam.

  A car engine started up moments later and then she heard the crunch of its wheels on gravel as it drove away from the house.

  She sighed to herself for she knew what this meant, her body involuntarily tensing in a conditioned response; he was alone and so would be visiting her soon.

  Today, though, she was ready for him and she was almost excited by the prospect of his visit. The weapon she had carefully crafted over the past few weeks was ready, it’s point sharp and lethal. She held it now in her right hand, her thumb gently rubbing the shiny metal surface, giving her comfort.

  She slid it beneath her body, hiding it from view, as she heard his footsteps approaching the basement door. This was it, soon he would feel pain just like she had felt over the years, soon he would be nothing more than a shell, just like she had learnt to become when they did those things to her and made her do those things to them.

  She smiled as she thought about what life would be life would be like when she was free of him. It would certainly be better than this present existence.

  The basement door opened and his heavy steps caused the staircase to creak as he descended. The basement was gloomy, the two small rectangular frosted-glass windows insufficient to dispel the shadows, but as he opened the door at the top of the stairs he flicked on the light switch, the single naked bulb now casting a weak light around the room. He looked at her and slowly approached the bed.

  ‘What are you smiling at bitch?’ he asked, his gruff voice sending shivers down her spine.

  She hadn’t realised she was still smiling and she was afraid now he would sense what she was planning, sense that there was something different about her. She made her expression blank and closed her eyes afraid that he would see her intentions in them.

  ‘I said what the fuck are you smiling at bitch?’

  He was leaning over her now, his face inches away from her own; she could smell his breath and it made her feel sick. She continued to lie motionless, arms by her sides, her legs straight and pulled together. She felt him move away from her face and briefly opened her eyes to see he had moved to the foot of the bed and was taking off his shirt and unfastening his belt, his muscles flexing as he disrobed. She quickly closed them again afraid of making eye contact.

  ‘So, we’re going to be quiet today are we? You know I don’t like that, I prefer it when you protest, make noise and put up a little bit of fight. It makes it more fun.’

  She could feel his weight on the end of the bed, his hands touching her legs, the contact making her jump.

  ‘That’s more like it you stupid fucking bitch.’ he laughed, the sound grating and unpleasant.

  ‘Now open your eyes, you know I like you to see me when we’re riding.’

  She c
ould feel his weight moving up the bed, his naked body hovering inches above her own. She slowly placed her arm under her back and pulled out the weapon, palming it so he couldn’t see. She tried hard to keep her breathing regular, to calm herself down, she didn’t want him suspecting anything was different.

  ‘Open your eyes bitch, or I swear to God I will make this so painful you’ll wish you’d never been born. Open your fucking eyes,’ he demanded.

  She wanted to obey him so he wouldn’t hurt her but she knew she couldn’t, he would see her murderous intentions in her eyes if he looked in them, he would see that she was so scared yet so excited about what she was going to do. She wasn’t quite ready, her courage wasn’t quite there, she just needed a little more time.

  ‘For the last time, cunt, open your fucking eyes!’ he shouted in her face, she felt spittle land on her cheeks and his breath moving her hair.

  She opened her eyes and looked at him, her gaze penetrating and full of hate. He saw it then, something in her large green eyes besides her shattered innocence, there was a darkness he had never seen before, something different. The girl had changed.

  ‘What’s going…’ but before he could finish the question she seized the opportunity, took advantage of his proximity and his moment of hesitation.

  She raised the metal spike she had crafted and rammed it into his left eye with all the strength she could muster; she screamed at the top of her lungs as she felt the spike connect with his eyeball, felt a gentle pop as it penetrated through the tissue.

  He yelled in agony but she was unrelenting, she rammed her fists upwards, against the spike, again and again, driving it deeper and deeper into his skull. He rolled onto the mattress, lying on his back, and she quickly straddled his chest, holding on with her legs as he tried to protect his eyes and get her off him; she continued to beat at the spike, unable to stop, even though her hands were becoming bloody and sore from the repeated contact with the rough end of the metal strut.