TORTURED: A Novel of Psychological Horror

by Matt Shaw

  “And you think we do? We just put gloves on and go in via the back where no one will be likely to notice us. We’ll go down the alleyway next to your house and over his fence…If need be, break a window to unlock the door…”

  Ryan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Already things were going wrong. The idea was to get Thomas and Mike to do the donkey work. They go in, he watches from the safety of his own home. Anything goes wrong - he could deny everything. “I’m not happy about this,” he pointed out.

  “It’s the only way it’s going to happen,” Mike said. “Unless you’re happy to sit back and pretend everything is okay and we’ll just drop the whole thing. Hopefully, he’s innocent anyway. As you said, the police let him go so there’s a good chance all is good with him…And even if he isn’t - I’m sure he wouldn’t shit on his own doorstep…” Mike sat back and watched Ryan’s reaction. His words hit home just as he knew they would. By shitting on his own doorstep he was referring to snatching girls from where he lived. Specifically Claire who was closest to the age bracket of the girls being taken. Any age between seventeen and thirty-two so far. Again, Ryan shifted in his seat - his mind imagining the look on the man’s face when he was looking up to Claire’s bedroom window. In reality the look was that of a curious man looking into the window of a pretty girl - which wasn’t ideal - but in Ryan’s head he could picture Mr. Reynolds rubbing his hands together at the prospect of getting Claire into whatever room he liked to torture girls in. There was a long pause.

  “So when do we do it?” Ryan asked. Ideally they’d get it done as soon as possible, in his mind. Especially if there was a chance Vanessa was still alive - a stupid thought which his brain struggled to let go of even though he knew it’d be easier (safer for his marriage) if she were dead. What happened to her now wasn’t really a priority for Ryan. Saving his marriage and family were and if that meant breaking into someone’s house to do so then so be it. Especially as he knew there could be a strong chance of the police knocking on his own door again - with the additional information, to hand, of the affair. Ryan shouted at himself internally. It wasn’t an affair. It was one night. Not even the whole night. It didn’t matter, though. When people spoke of it - if they were to speak of it - they’d blow it out of proportion.

  “As soon as he is out,” Mike said. A smile spread across his thin lips. Ryan wasn’t sure whether this was because he was planning to do something to frame him (just as Ryan planned to use Mike and Thomas as the fall guys) or whether it was because Ryan was finally on side with him; driven there by sheer desperation.

  “Right and how do we know when he is out?” Ryan asked. His mind already told him they’d need to be setting up some sort of surveillance on the property.

  “The easiest way is to knock!” Thomas pointed out. The two grown men looked at him. It was simple, yes, but it was also effective. If he answers - clearly he is in. If he doesn’t answer then the coast was clear. Mike smiled at his boy as though it were all something to be proud of. Ryan bit his tongue. There was nothing proud about this moment. If anything this was what was wrong with society.

  “Well,” Mike stood to his feet, “no time like the present.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I always fall into a little depression when I’ve finished with my play-things. My relationship with them is over and I find myself alone again. It has always been this way. Before I started taking people - things weren’t much better but my solitude wasn’t the driving force behind my choices. I couldn’t tell you what the driving forces were. I don’t know where the urges initially came from. I know I was inspired by people but that didn’t mean they were what made me actually do it. I didn’t wake up and decide to be them, or like them. It just happened. And now it has - I want to be the best I can. A strange compulsion but one I’ve grown accustomed to.

  I leant back, on the cellar wall, and looked at the mess that laid across the floor before me. The blood, the mush, the various bits I’d cut off. I miss her already. Once again my time with her was far too short for what I had planned - not that I’ve finished with her completely. Not yet. I need to bag her up, later. I need to take her out. I need to dump her for someone to find. Then - and only then - will I be done with her and, once again, on the lookout for someone else to play my games.

  Another knock at the door, upstairs, pulled me back to reality. My heart skipped a beat. I don’t get people visiting me. Ever. This is the second person within the space of a couple of days. Another knock. Harder this time. Ignore it. They’ll leave. Another knock.

  * * * * *

  Ryan was hoping the door was going to open but it was looking less and less likely to be the case. Mike knocked on the door again; three hard hits with the side of his clenched fist. Thomas watched on, smiling. Unlike Ryan, Thomas was hoping the neighbour was out. A teenager on the verge of breaking into someone’s house knowing they couldn’t get in trouble for it. Not when he had his father’s permission to be there.

  They’d left the girls in Mike and Jackie’s kitchen. When asked where they were going they didn’t try and hide the truth from them. They told them they were going around to knock on Mr. Reynolds’ front door. They didn’t tell them - though - that they were going to break in if he was out. That was their little secret and would stay that way until the task was done and - more importantly - they’d gotten the facts they needed whilst also getting away with their crime.

  “I think it’s fair to say he’s out,” Mike said. “We ready to do this?” Now he was the one who was looking unsure Ryan noticed. Perhaps he wasn’t as bad as Ryan first believed him to be.

  “Fuck, yeah!” Thomas piped up. Mike turned to him and gave him a look. Not because of his enthusiasm as to what they were going to do but because of his son’s rather colourful language. Mike’s look was enough. Thomas sheepishly looked down the side of the house, “So - that way, yeah?” He walked past his father and Ryan - leading the way down the alleyway towards the back gardens. Mike followed him as did Ryan - although Ryan did have the sense to have a quick look up and down the road to see if anyone was there, or watching them. Sadly there was no one there. No one to see what they were about to do. No one to stop them…

  Ryan took a deep breath and disappeared down the alleyway.

  * * * * *

  Dee and Jackie weren’t really talking. They weren’t stupid. They knew what was going on. They knew where the men had disappeared to and why. It’s not as though they’d been really secretive talking about breaking into the house to have a snoop around. The only sense they had was to not discuss it in front of the younger children. The two mothers just got on with preparing the meal. Chili Con Carne tonight - mainly because it was easy to cook and Jackie had the bits in the house. It’s not as though she was expecting to cook for Dee’s family. Earlier in the day she had thought she wouldn’t be seeing any of them again - after Mike had told her what’d happened with Ryan. She thought that was it. Another neighbour living next to them that they’d know nothing about.

  Jackie was browning off the mince whilst Dee was preparing the kidney beans and onions. Claire was just standing there - watching the two of them. She felt nervous of the situation still. The neighbour standing in his garden, watching her had spooked her even though her father had said he was most likely innocent. If he really believed that she couldn’t help but wonder why he was going around there now. If he was innocent there’d be no reason to go. They could just leave him be…Not that she wanted him to leave him. She wanted him to at least have a word with him. Tell him not to look into his daughter’s bedroom. Warn him off. She nervously took a sip from her summer fruit drink Jackie had earlier made for her. She swallowed it so noisily that her mother couldn’t help but to turn and look at her. Claire seized the opportunity to say what was on her mind, “Do you think they’re talking to him?” she asked.

  Jackie stopped what she was doing. Claire had asked exactly the question which had been on all of their minds. She slowly turned around to
Claire. Jackie had an expression on her face which neither Dee nor Claire had seen before. It wasn’t that she didn’t look as friendly as she had done previously looked. She just appeared to be more in charge than before. Whereas Mike appeared to be the man of the relationship and Jackie seemed to be the one who simply toed the line - when Dee and her family had first met them - now she appeared to be the one in charge of the situation. She was the one leading the way.

  “I think you need to put the whole thing out of your mind.” Jackie said. Her voice suddenly stern. She turned to Dee, “You too. All of us. We just need to forget about the whole thing. We didn’t hear any of the conversation.”

  “Why?” Claire asked.

  “Do as she says,” Dee butt in. She knew exactly why Jackie said what she said. She wasn’t trying to lay the law down. She wasn’t trying to dictate what they should or shouldn’t do. She was trying to protect them if things went South. A wave of uncertainty washed through Dee all of a sudden and a sickness hit her stomach. “Have you ever done anything like this before?” she asked Jackie. Jackie looked at her. She didn’t answer her vocally but her face said everything Dee needed to know. “Claire - why don’t you go and watch the television,” Dee said to her. “Nothing else to do and we’ll be through soon.” In truth Dee didn’t want Claire out of her sight - not with everything that was going on but, at the same time, she didn’t want Claire to be part of the following conversation. Not just that, she also worried that Jackie might not open up to her if Claire was there listening too. She hoped that, with the two of them talking woman to woman, she’d be more inclined to open up to her.

  “It’s fine,” Jackie said, giving Claire permission to go on through to the living room to watch the television. Claire didn’t put up any protest; she picked up her half-empty glass and walked through to the living room. Jackie followed her to push the door shut. She turned back to the kitchen worktop where she added the beans and onion to the mince. From the other room - they heard the television buzz into life.

  “How many times have you found yourself in this position?” Dee asked her.

  “Cooking dinner?” Jackie asked. She smiled at her. Playing dumb.

  “How many times have you found yourself covering for your husband while he runs off to break into people’s homes?” she pressed her further. “This isn’t the first time you’ve been in this position, is it? I can see it in your eyes.”

  “We live in a bad world and sometimes the only way to feel safe is to take a really good look at your neighbours. And to do that…We do what we need to do.” Jackie said it in such a matter-of-fact way it was clear she didn’t think there was anything wrong with their actions. “You want to keep your family safe, don’t you?”

  Dee didn’t answer her. She didn’t say anything. The two of them just stood in silence for a moment. The drone of the television humming still in the background of the house. The noise of two young girls happily playing upstairs. A few more minutes went by before Dee broke the silence between the two women, “You invited me out. And the girls. Claire stayed home but ended up here, with Thomas…You knew Ryan was at work,” she hesitated a moment unsure as to whether she really wanted to hear the answer, “…Did you break into our house?”

  “I was with you.”

  “Your husband wasn’t. Mike wasn’t. Did Mike break into our house?”

  “Of course not!” Jackie acted as though she were offended. “We’re friends!” She didn’t act well enough though and Dee saw straight through her. She had broken into their house. Not her admittedly. Her husband. He’d seized the opportunity to sneak in when they were all out. No doubt annoyed that Claire had stayed behind - Thomas had gone round and pulled her from her room, dragged her back to his place to show the many pages he’d written detailing serial killers; nothing but a ruse to get her out of the house and give Mike the necessary time to snoop around to see if they were ‘suitable’ neighbours.

  The two women stood in silence again. Jackie quietly hoping she’d thrown Dee off with her lie. Dee quietly regretting that her husband had gone off with Mike and Thomas. She wanted him back by her side. More than that - she wanted them all back in their own home with the front door locked. She wanted to move away - a feeling completely violated by what her neighbours had done.

  “Just think,” Jackie said, “if they find anything - they’ll put a stop to it. They’ll be able to make the neighbourhood a safer place.”

  “By breaking and entering into everyone’s houses?”

  “A necessary crime. Think about the bigger picture. It’s for the best.” She looked up at the clock mounted on the wall behind Dee. “They shouldn’t be that much longer. Normally he’s in and out.” She smiled at Dee. “Did you want another drink while we wait? Could crack open a nice red wine?”

  Ryan’s earlier words went through Dee’s head. His stark warning that not all was right with their neighbours. His order to leave them alone. She smiled at Jackie, “Sounds nice,” she said. She watched as Jackie pulled a red wine from a wine rack over by the microwave and couldn’t help but wish she’d listened to her husband.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I heard a door from somewhere upstairs splinter as someone used force to come through it. Did someone really just break into my house? For once did my play-thing come to me? I won’t pretend to be a little disappointed. I do enjoy the hunt - looking for new prey - but it’d be rude not to play with whoever has dared breach my property. Especially as they’re uninvited. Despite the fact someone had just broken in - I couldn’t help but smile. Most people would have been angry. Some people would have even been scared. Not me, though. I’m actually finding it a little funny. Of all the houses they chose to broke into…Boy did they choose the wrong house…I quietly reached down for the knife I’d earlier used to slice my play-thing’s skin. The trick will be to maim them enough that they can’t get away but not so much that they bleed out before I’ve gone through the motions with them. It’s a fine art. I walked to the stairs of the cellar and paused. I listened intently. A voice. Someone is calling out up there.

  * * * * *

  “Hello?!” Ryan called out into the darkness of the house.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Mike asked.

  “Making sure he’s out.”

  “He’s out. We knocked. Remember?” Mike snapped.

  “I guess. And if he didn’t hear the knocking - I’m sure he would have heard the door breaking, right?” Ryan had had enough of Mike’s shit; the way he went around thinking he was the one in charge. He wasn’t. No one was in charge of the situation as far as Ryan was concerned. The whole thing was a train wreck. A point proven when Thomas broke the back door. So much for sneaking in and out without being noticed. There was no way Mr. Reynolds wouldn’t notice a broken back door when he did get home.

  “Just shut the fuck up!” Mike snapped. His earlier disapproving look at Thomas, for his use of bad language, seemed somewhat hypocritical now but no one picked him up on it as he started looking through the various cupboards in the kitchen. Thomas started at the other end of the cupboards - pulling each one open, having a quick root around before closing it again.

  “What exactly are we looking for?” Ryan asked.

  Mike didn’t even look at him when he spoke, “Anything that’s out of place…Suspicious…”

  “I’m sorry - I’ve never done this kind of thing before,” Ryan snapped back having sensed a tone in Mike’s voice. After tonight, no matter what they found, he wouldn’t be speaking to him again even if Dee did want to stay friends with them. He wanted nothing to do with them. More so, a tiny part of him just wanted to cut his losses and move out. Find somewhere else to live. Perhaps rent for a while - somewhere in the countryside (they couldn’t afford to move there). A nice quiet house in the middle of nowhere with no neighbours. The sound of a plate crashing to the floor, smashing into a dozen small pieces, pulled him back to his current situation. He turned around, in the direction of the
noise. Thomas was looking sheepish and Mike was looking angry.

  “It was an accident,” Thomas said quietly.

  Mike looked at me, “There’s nothing in here. We need to check the rest of the house.” Mike walked out of the kitchen, pushing past Ryan in the process.

  “What about the broken plate?” Ryan asked.

  “What about it? As you already pointed out - door’s broken anyway…No fixing that in the little time we have,” Mike walked into the living room. Thomas joined his father in the living room and started going through everything. Ryan followed but stopped in the doorway. Now he was in the house and snooping around, he couldn’t help but think he had been wrong. Especially with Mike’s erratic behaviour. The more he opened his mouth, the more Ryan felt he’d made a mistake - something he’d always known deep down. His judgement blinded by his need to keep his sordid secret and desperation in keeping his family safe.

  “Maybe we’re wrong,” Ryan said. Thomas stopped what he was doing and looked at him. A disappointed look in his face. Just as Ryan had made a mistake - he was starting to think he too had made an error in judgement. He shouldn’t have trusted Ryan that was capable of doing this. He wasn’t a potential part of the unofficial neighbourhood watch. “There’s nothing here,” he continued.

  “We’ve checked one room. You think we were ever going to find anything in the kitchen? We never find anything in the kitchen!” Mike stopped. He realised, all too late, what he’d said. Ryan had picked up on it too.

  “You never find anything in the kitchen?”

  “A slip of the tongue. Who’d hide anything in the kitchen? Nobody with any sense.”

  “Look we should just go. This was a mistake. There’s nothing in here.”

  “What about this?” Thomas was sitting on the floor by an open bookcase. He had a shoebox in his lap. Both of the adults turned to see what he was talking about and what he’d found. He held the box up. “Look.”