by West, Sam
“You fucking bastard,” Kevin said. “Why are you doing this?”
Jasper’s smile dropped like lead. “What goes around, comes around, Kevin. It’s just the way the universe works.” He turned his gaze back to Kendra, the smile once more firmly in place. “This is still your game, Kendra, you decide what happens next. If you choose for Kevin to die, you get to walk out of here ten million pounds richer. Or if you chose for Kevin to live, you don’t get the money.”
There was not even the tiniest spark of doubt in her mind when she replied. “Just let us go. It’s over, Jasper.”
“No, it’s not fucking over,” Jasper shouted before going into a severe coughing fit that took almost a full minute to subside. When he looked up, his lips were speckled with flecks of blood and he couldn’t speak without wheezing. “You don’t get it, do you? Why should I suffer alone?”
Trying to hide the fact that her legs were like jelly, she made her way over to the bars and held onto them, looking him directly in his watery blue eyes, magnified by the those same, bottle-top glasses that he had worn during school.
“What did I ever do to you, Jasper?” she asked. “I was nice to you. I am nice.”
“You weren’t nice to me. You pitied me, that isn’t being nice, that’s being patronising. You hated me, just like everyone else did. I fucking loved you, Kendra, and you didn’t even know I existed, you patronising bitch.”
Her mind whirred as she digested what he had just told her. He was unhinged, but he loved her. Was it possible that he still did?
Keep him talking…
“You never told me how you felt, Jasper. I’m not a mind reader.”
“Don’t you dare try to fuck with my head, Kendra. I am a lot of things, but I am not stupid. You loved Kevin and I was the class scapegoat. Try to mess with my head again and I’ll get my friend over by the door to tear you limb from limb. He’s good with his hands as well as a gun.”
Kendra just stared helplessly at him, at a loss of what to say. He was right, he wasn’t stupid, far from it. He was obviously worth a lot of money to arrange for this to happen. Taking a shaky breath, she took her life in her own hands and asked another question:
“What do you do to be so rich?”
He didn’t reply immediately, and she thought that she had blown it. Her plan to just ‘keep him talking’, to try and make him respect her as a human-being now struck her as foolish. She was a doctor, not a fucking hostage negotiator.
“Computers,” he said simply, and her head spun in relief that he had spared her life. For now. “Back in the early noughties, I was one of the leading minds developing computer programmes. Computers are my first and only love. In fact, this game is being streamed as we speak, on a highly exclusive snuff-site.”
“You’ll never get away with this,” Kevin said.
Jasper shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Who cares? I’m a dead man walking anyway. But we’re getting off-track, Kendra, what’s it going to be? Kill Kevin and take the money, or spare his life and forgo the money? Not only that, but by sparing his life, you could be putting your own in danger.”
“The rules keep changing, Jasper, I can’t keep up.”
“Keep up or die, Kendra.”
She did her best to ignore the disgusted little voice in her head that told her she should’ve stood her ground, that she should never have chosen for Maria to die. And then it hit her; she finally realised that she wasn’t getting out of this alive.
As terrified as she was, she also felt as if a burden had been lifted.
“You know what? Do your worst, Jasper, because I’m not playing anymore.”
Jasper’s face fell as surely as a little kid who had been told he wasn’t getting any sweeties. He stuck out his blood-flecked, bottom lip and glowered at her. He turned his attention to Kevin.
“But you’re still playing, aren’t you Kevin? If you rape Kendra, not only do you get to live, you get to walk out of here with the ten million pounds.”
Kendra couldn’t help but roll her eyes – when was he just going to give it up? He was going to kill both of them, no matter what they did.
She turned to look at Kevin… And her blood turned to ice in her veins. He was staring at her, his face pale and his mouth set in a grim line.
“Oh no, Kevin, you can’t be serious.”
“I really do think he is,” Jasper said. “Give her one for me, Kevin, seeing as I can’t anymore. Watching is the second best thing.”
Jasper laughed loudly, which gave way to yet another coughing fit. He was laughing at Kevin’s stupidity, she felt sure of it.
“I’m sorry, Kendra,” he said, taking a step towards her. “I don’t want to die today.”
“Are you really that fucking stupid?” she spat at him. “You’re going to die, anyway, can’t you see that?”
He didn’t, because he took a step towards her. “After all we’ve been through, it’s just sex. I promise I won’t hurt you. Come on, it’s a small price to pay.”
“You fucking idiot, this is a game that we can’t win, no matter what we do.”
“Sorry,” he said as he lunged for her.
She danced out of reach, but as she spun away from him, her feet tangled with Maria’s corpse. She fell backwards, her arms wind-milling in the empty air. The ground rushed up to meet her backside and the air left her lungs in a whoosh. Her legs were twisted awkwardly over Maria’s torso, and she shuddered in disgust.
Kevin was on her in a heartbeat, scooping her up under the armpits and dragging her off of Maria’s corpse. He pushed her roughly down and the back of her head smacked against the concrete floor. His weight crushed down on top of her and the room span. For endless, painful seconds, she couldn’t move; her limbs paralyzed and her hearing drowned out by the ringing in her ears.
His hand snaking up her skirt and grabbing at her knickers brought her round.
“Get off me, you stupid arsehole,” she panted.
He didn’t. Instead, one hand gripped her by the neck and the other fumbled with the fly of his trousers. His weight bore down between her splayed legs. She couldn’t breathe; her head felt unbearably tight and she clawed at his hand round her neck, bucking and writhing as she did so.
Kevin’s face above her was beginning to blur and darken, the ceiling closing in around his head. She panicked, close to passing out. Did he intend to kill her?
Her knickers roughly shoved to one side, she felt the head of his hard cock shoving at her dry vagina, guided by his hand.
Fuck this.
One hand stopped prising at his tight grip and flew out to her side, groping blindly on the concrete.
Yes!
Her fingers curled around a small fragment of glass from the shattered wine bottle. It bit sharply into her palm, but she barely noticed as she swung her arm upwards and round with every last ounce of her failing strength…
Her aim was sure and true, slicing into his neck and severing the carotid artery. Instantly, his grip on her neck loosened and she gasped down air. A fountain of blood erupted from the hole in his neck, showering her in red. His eyes bulged in his head, his mouth agape. Silently, he mouthed something, then slumped forward, crushing her into the ground. Kendra struggled beneath him, bringing up her elbows and knees. She managed to dislodge herself from his dead-weight and she lay on her back panting.
She twisted round to look at him, and his head was swivelled in her direction. His eyes were glassy and wide in surprise, staring right through her.
Dead. Kevin’s dead. I killed Kevin.
She hauled herself onto her hands and knees and threw up. She stared down at the puddle of yellow puke framed by her splayed hands, a great sadness weighing down on her soul.
I’ve failed. I’m a murderer.
“Well done,” came Jasper’s hateful voice. “I didn’t think you had it in you. The customers will have loved that little show. Such a shame that you have to die, I always did like you.”
Kendra Ball died starin
g at her own vomit. She was shot in the side of the head. A brilliant, white light flared behind her eyes in her ruptured brain, accompanied by the briefest, searing agony.
Everything went black and she landed face-first in the puddle of sick.
CHAPTER NINE
Back in his study, Jasper Black stared at the corkboard with the photographs of Kendra, Kevin, Maria, Craig, Wayne and Jean pinned to it.
He smiled. Too bad, fuckwits. Which one of you cunts is laughing at me now?
He pressed a button on his wheelchair, putting it into reverse, then performed a neat little three-point turn.
On the other side of the vast room was another corkboard. This one also had six photographs pinned to it and he wheeled over to look at.
The sight made him smile. A piece of A4 paper was sellotaped to the top of this corkboard. Written on this piece of paper were the words, ‘Cambridge University Reunion’.
There was a knock at the door, and the same young man that had escorted him to his school reunion joined him in his study.
“The guests have arrived, sir.”
“Are they awake?”
“One of them is coming round. Would you like to be escorted through?”
His stomach flipped in excitement. The school reunion had been so much fun, and he had high hopes for the university reunion too. Briefly, he wondered if any of the cunts from Cambridge would be as altruistic as Kendra and Wayne had been.
Only one way to find to find out.
“Yes, I do believe I would,” he said.
The End.
Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed ‘School Reunion’. If you did, be sure to check out my author page on Amazon for my other titles. If anyone is interested, Below I have enclosed the first chapter of my novel ‘Djinn’.
Sweet nightmares to you all.
Sam West.
CHAPTER ONE OF ‘DJINN’
Somebody’d had a really evil crap in this cubicle. Pam Wilkins gagged, covering her mouth with the sleeve of her tatty cleaning jumper, careful not to let the yellow rubber glove she was wearing touch her face.
“Fuck,” she groaned, the bile rising and her tongue floating in mouth water.
Shit, she should be used to this. She’d been doing it for almost a year, which was a long time as far as cleaning toilets went. The job could be measured in something like dog years. One month felt like ten years so she figured she should really be used to it by now.
She took a step inside the cubicle of death and the door swung shut behind her. There was no way she was getting trapped in with that stench so she placed her plastic bucket full of cleaning products at the foot of the door to wedge it open.
That’s when the dull glint caught her eye under the door hinge. At first glance she thought it was a discarded copper teapot, but then she saw the shape of the thing was too elongated to be a teapot. She bent over to inspect it more closely. Yes, it was some kind of lamp, instantly making her think of Aladdin and The Lamp.
She picked it up, slowly turning it over in her hands. It was filthy, but under the dirt it looked like it might be made of brass. Were brass lamps worth anything? She didn’t know, but she would google it when she got in. Maybe it would be worth a bob or two on Ebay.
She picked out a yellow dustcloth from her bucket and gave it a little rub.
Smoke began to curl out of the spout.
“What the fuck?” she exclaimed, dropping the lamp.
It clattered to the tiled floor, the smoke continuing to rise. It billowed in the confined space, making her gag and her eyes water.
“What the fuck,” she repeated, coughing and spluttering.
Pam stumbled backwards, staring incredulously at the smoke that now filled the cubicle.
All that smoke, but no fire, she thought, her mind whirring in confusion. How can that be?
The cubicle was thick with smoke. But the strange thing was, not even a curl of it escaped the cubicle, like there was an invisible barrier confining it there.
The smoke seemed to be clearing a little, and now that it was, Pam could make out a figure standing amidst it.
“Shit,” she proclaimed, rubbing her eyes, convinced she was seeing things.
But no, there was definitely somebody standing in the cubicle. A man, no less, judging from the tall, broad-shouldered silhouette.
“What the fuck is this? Where did you come from?”
“From the lamp. You summoned me. I am here to do your bidding.”
“Yeah, and I’m the queen of fucking Sheeba. Did Wayne put you up to this?”
“No.”
Pam shivered. She couldn’t see his face as the smoke still swirled around his head, obscuring his features. How could the bastard breathe in all that smoke? She had pulled her pullover up over her nose and still the smoke felt thick and frightening in her lungs. That aside, it was the voice that got to her. Despite the figure being obviously male, the voice sounded oddly asexual, falling somewhere between masculine and feminine. Not only that, but it didn’t seem to be emanating from the man himself. Like the smoke itself, the lilting voice hung in the air all around them.
It had to be a practical joke, the guy had to have a tape-recorded voice in his pocket to make it sound like that. Or maybe there were speakers hidden in the toilet. Pam hated practical jokes, her life was one big joke enough as it was.
A distant part of her mind warned her that this was real. Who the hell did she think she was? She knew perfectly well she wasn’t even interesting enough to be the butt of a practical joke.
“Now listen here, you fucking psycho, obviously you’ve been loitering in the next door cubicle waiting to pull your little stunt, but I don’t want to play your sick games. I’m walking away, right now, and then I’m going to call the police.”
“Stay, Pam. I can give you everything your mortal heart has ever desired. I can make your every wish come true. I am the Djinn.”
“Fuck off.”
Pam was scared. It wasn’t right. He wasn’t right. How could he stand there in all that smoke and not be fucking dead? And now that the smoke was clearing, why could she still not see his fucking face? It was almost like he didn’t have one.
She turned to leave.
“Wait.”
The quiet command of his voice made her pause.
“Leave me alone,” she said, hating how frightened she sounded.
She remained rooted to the spot, not daring to turn around and face him yet also unable to turn and leave.
“Don’t be scared Pam, you have nothing to fear. I am friend, not foe. If you complete a simple set of tasks I can make all your dreams come true.”
Something compelled her to turn around.
He had stepped out of the cubicle where the smoke was rapidly clearing and stood less than a metre away from her. He was wearing a well cut black suit on his perfectly formed body.
She still couldn’t see his face. She rubbed her eyes, convinced she was losing her mind. But no, his features were a blur, like she was too pissed to focus. Except she wasn’t. It was Monday morning and she was stone cold sober. His hair might have been dark, but it was near impossible to tell. His head seemed to gently shimmer and sparkle, like the reflection off an ocean. It hurt to look at it for too long.
“What kind of fucking mask is that?” she asked, shielding her eyes.
“It is not a mask. Mortals cannot gaze upon my visage, my absolute, perfect beauty would destroy your mind. You would not be able to comprehend it.”
“What are you? Apart from conceited?”
“I am Djinn, the third sapient creature of God. There are humans, angels and those like me, the djinn.”
“You mean a demon, right?”
Pam simply could not believe she was having this conversation. It was ludicrous, she was humouring a psychopath.
Yet as much as she hated to admit it, she believed his every word.
“No Pam, djinn are not demons. Like you humans, we have free will. We can be good, evi
l, or benevolent.”
“And what are you?”
He didn’t smile, because he didn’t have a face, but she could hear the tease in his voice.
“Why, I am good, of course.”
She shook her head. She had gone insane, it was the only logical explanation. It was hardly a surprise, really. All the financial worries, her bullying boyfriend and generally shitty life had led her to this point.
“You’re not real,” she said, closing her eyes, wanting it to be true.
When she opened them again, he was still there. As she knew, deep down, he would be.
“Make a deal with me, Pam. Six wishes in exchange for six simple tasks. You will live a long and perfect life of your choosing, at the end of which, I take your soul.”
“What, so you can torture me for all eternity? I don’t think so.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic, Pam. I do not wish to torture you, I wish to save you from hell. Do you really think you’re getting into heaven? With all things you’ve done in your life? Please.”
“How do you know what I’ve done?”
“Because I am not of this world. Because when you rubbed the lamp, I absorbed your memories, your very essence. I know everything. I know about the abortions, the hard drinking, the prostituting yourself.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, that was only like twice. And I only did it ‘cause I was desperate ‘cause the bailiffs were on my case.”
“No matter. It is enough to send you to hell.”
“If all this is true, then what the fuck do you want with my soul?”
“What good is a kingdom with no subjects? The third realm consists of saved souls, and the more souls I save from the eternal torture of hell, the happier I will be.”
“So you’re like, the boss of this place?”
“The collective djinn are. Look, Pam, the politics of the third realm are of little consequence. Do you want to make the deal or not?”
“But why me?”
“Why not? My lamp, or that is, my vessel, had to materialise somewhere. It just happened to be here. I wouldn’t have come out if a good person destined for heaven had found the lamp. I am here to save a soul, and along came you.”
