The Broken Trilogy

by Amy Cross

  Suddenly Jess pulls back from the kiss, just a couple of inches. She stares at me, and then she slips the strap off one of my shoulders, pulling the dress down to expose my right breast. She pauses, and then the kiss resumes, with much more passion and energy this time. I barely have time to react properly before I realize that I've moved my hand onto one of her breasts, and to my shock I find that her nipple is rock-hard. There's a part of me that wants to stop this immediately, but at the same time I'm also drawn to explore her body. I move my hand down, past her belly and all the way to her crotch; pushing my fingers further than I ever thought I'd go, I feel that she's excited, and her wetness guides a solitary finger between the lips of her vagina.

  Jonathan Pope

  1901

  "What did you tell them?" Gregor asks from the darkness. "The police, I mean. Did you talk about the game? Did you open your mouth and try to save your skin by giving them what you thought they wanted?"

  "No," I reply, still trying to pick the lock on the heavy iron door. With no suitable tools, I've resorted to the most desperate tool imaginable: first, I chewed off all my fingernails, and then I used strands of my own hair to bind the pieces of nail together. The resulting makeshift stick is fragile and delicate, and the odds of success are a million to one. Still, I can't give up. I won't stop fighting until my neck is in that noose.

  "They already know, anyway," he says. "Well, they know enough to understand that they have to keep well clear. Like I told you, Mr. Pope, there are powerful forces at work, and the game has ways of keeping itself going".

  "So I understand," I reply, still focusing on the lock.

  "Perhaps you should have said something," Gregor continues. "The game is already angry with you, so you've got nothing to lose". He waits for a moment. "Or have you?"

  "Have I what?" I ask, still working on the lock.

  "Got something to lose, Mr. Pope? Out there in the real world, is there something you care about? Something you're trying to protect? I should warn you, the game is not only vengeful. It's also spiteful. It'll kill for kicks, just to make itself feel better".

  "There's nothing," I say. "And no-one".

  "Then the game is probably being a little more cautious," he says. "Perhaps the game wonders how best to hurt you".

  "Hanging me should do the trick," I reply, pressing the lock until finally the toenails slip from the strands of hair, and my little device falls apart. "Damn it!" I shout, sitting back. There's still time to come up with another plan, but I need to think fast.

  "You're an ingenious man," Gregor says with a laugh. "I'll give you that, Mr. Pope. What are you going to do next? Take out all your teeth and fashion those into a knife?"

  "If I thought it would work," I say grimly, "I'd -" Suddenly I stop speaking, as a new idea enters my mind. At first, it seems utterly insane and desperate, but I can't ignore the fact that it might actually work. I mean, the blunt truth is that I know I could pick that lock if I just had something sharp and firm, and while toenails were unlikely to ever work, a piece of bone, snapped in the right way and with a sharp enough tip, would be far more promising. I'd rather not remove a bone from my own body, but Gregor, on the other hand, means nothing to me. I don't want to kill him, but I'm willing to do whatever's necessary.

  "You seem thoughtful," he says after a moment. "Do you have another crazy plan? I was quite entertained by the last one. As you can probably imagine, I don't get much fun around here, so it always amuses me to watch my fellow prisoners as they get more and more desperate". He waits for me to reply. "Come on, Mr. Pope. Let me in on the plan. You've got one, right?"

  "I'm not sure," I say, still trying to work out which bones would be most effective. After a few seconds, I decide that the lower arm would do, just around the wrist. Still, in order to extract such a bone from Gregor, I'd have to overpower him and knock him out, and then I'd have to use my bare hands to gouge the flesh away. It'd be a blood, animal-like process, and it'd certainly be the most desperate and craven thing I've ever done in my life. Still, right now it seems like my only chance.

  "If you'd like to confess your sins," Gregor continues, "I'd be happy to listen. You'll have to be completely honest, though. You'll have to tell me everything you've done. Don't leave anything out, not even the slightest detail. You'll also have to admit that you killed the woman you loved".

  "I didn't kill her," I reply, trying to judge the perfect moment to attack him. "I have other sins, though. I've lived a long and lowly life, and over the years I've had need to slit many throats. I'm not sure I can even remember the names of all the people I've hurt and killed, but maybe I should try. Come closer, though. I'm only willing to whisper them".

  "Why don't you come closer to me?" he replies.

  "It's dark," I point out. "I don't know where you are".

  There's a pause, and then I hear a shuffling sound getting closer. After a few seconds, a figure starts to emerge from the gloom, and finally I see the face of an old, beaten-down old man.

  "Tell me your sins," he hisses, with the addled, desperate voice of a man who's addicted to the suffering of others.

  Realizing that this is my chance, I rush at him, grabbing his head and slamming the front of his skull into the wall. I pull him back and then ram his head into the floor with such force that I immediately feel the back of his skull give way. With my heart beating faster than ever, I grab hold of his arm and start using my fingers to gouge at his skin. It's a slow and desperate task, but soon there's blood flowing over my hands and eventually I reach deep enough inside to grab hold of a section of bone. Placing the arm over my knee, I slam it down and snap the bone in two, and then I finally manage to manhandle it out of his body. Sure enough, as I hold the bone up, I can just about see the sharp, shattered tip. Like a hungry, desperate animal, I hurry over to the door.

  Elly

  Today

  "No," Jess gasps suddenly, pulling away. She stares at me with a look of absolute shock.

  "What's wrong?" I ask, looking down at my glistening, wet finger.

  "This is wrong," she says. "This is really, really wrong!"

  My heart racing, I look over at Mark and see that he's got the same impassive look on his face as ever. I swear to God, I can never really work out what's going through that man's mind, and right now I could really use some help. Instead, he seems to be acting almost as if he's watching a play at the theater; he's just staring at us, amused by what's happening but not even trying to help.

  "I'm sorry," Jess mutters, scooping up her clothes and hurrying, naked, over to the bathroom.

  "Wait!" I call out, running after her. I get to the bathroom door just as she slams it shut, and a moment later I hear the lock being engaged. "Jess!" I shout. "Come on, let's talk about this!" I wait for an answer. "Please," I continue, "I don't want this to be weird, okay? Just come out and talk to me!"

  Silence.

  "Maybe she needs some space," Mark suggests from the other side of the room.

  "Jess!" I shout. "Let's just talk about it! We can go somewhere else! Just you and me, yeah? Like the old days? We can go and work out what to do next! This was just a bit of a joke that got totally out of hand!"

  Silence.

  "She can't handle the situation," Mark says. "She's just -"

  "Shut up!" I shout, turning back to face him. "Can't you just stop?" I stare at him, almost shaking with anger. I feel as if I'm on the verge of losing the best friend I've ever had, and Mark seems to view the whole thing as a kind of spectacle, as if it's all designed to amuse him. "Just let me talk to her," I continue, managing to calm down a little. "She's upset. I need to make sure she's okay".

  "Why wouldn't she be okay?" Mark asks.

  Sighing, I turn back to the door and wait for Jess to respond. All I hear, however, is a faint shuffling sound from inside the bathroom. I guess she's getting dressed right now.

  "Things got out of hand," I say, banging my fist languidly against the door. "We got carried away in the
moment, okay? We did a couple of things we shouldn't have done, but that doesn't mean we have to ignore each other, does it?" I wait in vain for a reply. "Jess, you're my best friend," I continue, "we need to -"

  Suddenly the door opens and I come face to face with her. She's fully clothed again, and she stares at me with the cold, hardened expression of a complete stranger.

  "Maybe we should talk alone," I say, hoping that maybe there's some way I can get through to her. From the look in her eyes, however, I'm already worried that I've lost her forever.

  "There's nothing to talk about," she replies, her voice sounding completely devoid of emotion. "It was just a little thing on the sofa, that's all. Nothing to worry about, really". She stares at me for a moment. "Come on, Elly. I know you've led a sheltered life, but try not to blow little things up into something they're not. It was a mistake. Big deal. Forget it. I should be getting going, anyway". With that, she pushes past me and hurries toward the door.

  "Wait!" I call out, hurrying after her. "Look, I get that you're embarrassed, but it's not like it was a big thing. You said yourself -"

  "I'm not embarrassed," she replies, fumbling with the door handle until finally she gets it open and steps out into the hallway. "I just think things went way too far, and now would be a good time to step back and let everything cool off". She pauses, as if she's waiting for me to say something. "Let's not make this weird, okay?" she continues eventually, with a desperate, panicked look in her eyes. "There's something about this fucking whole situation, like the money and the penthouse and stuff... It's like being up here is a different world, like it's completely separate from everywhere else. That wasn't us in there. That was..." She glances past me for a moment, as if she's looking for Mark. "Let's just cool it," she says, "and get things back to how they used to be. And be careful, okay? It's all just kind of weird up here".

  I stand and watch helplessly as she hurries toward the elevator. Once she's gone, I stay in the doorway, trying to work out what just happened. I'm trembling, and I feel like I just made a huge mistake. The power of the moment seemed to overwhelm us both, and we definitely crossed a line that neither of us would normally even have approached. I've never had any kind of sexual attraction to Jess or to any other girl, and the thought is shocking to me right now, but for a few minutes this evening, Mark seemed to get into our heads and tease us until we weren't ourselves.

  "Elly?" Mark says after a moment.

  "Yeah?" I reply, not turning to him.

  "Jess left the money".

  I take a deep breath.

  "Maybe you should go down and give it to her before she leaves," he continues, his distant voice sounding strangely cold and small in the large apartment. "Or if you've got her account details, I can -"

  "Don't worry about it," I say.

  "She doesn't want the money?"

  "I guess not".

  "Well, if she changes her mind, let me know and I'll get it to her. I doubt she can afford to turn her nose up at twenty thousand pounds".

  "Did you do that on purpose?" I ask, turning to him.

  "What?" he asks, as he puts the money back into his pocket.

  "Were you building up to that the whole evening? Getting her naked and then getting us to... do things?"

  He shakes his head.

  "It wasn't some kind of master-plan?"

  He shakes his head again. "I just thought it was a bit of fun. I admit it kind of went too far, but she seemed to want to do it".

  "And how much further would you have been willing to let it go?" I ask.

  He shrugs.

  "Did you want me to..."

  He waits for me to finish the sentence. "It was a game," he says eventually. "A game within a game, actually. I was genuinely interested in what she had to say about morality. I wanted to put her ideas to the test, and I think we did that very effectively, don't you?" He pauses. "She seems to have had ambitions to abandon her sense of morality, but she couldn't go through with it".

  "It wasn't about morality," I reply. "It was about her getting turned on".

  "Exactly. And that's always going to win out over morality. The body beats the mind, every time".

  "Do you think Jess would be good at the game?" I ask.

  He frowns.

  "Serious question," I continue, still loitering by the door. "Do you think there are any circumstances in which you'd get Jess to be part of the game?"

  "I hadn't thought about it," he says.

  "You hadn't?"

  He shakes his head.

  "Well, think about it," I reply. "Do you think she'd be good at the game?"

  "The fact that she ran out of here suggests not".

  "Did you want to fuck her?"

  "Elly -"

  "Did you want to fuck her?" I ask again. "This whole thing with the game... It seems like, lately, the game has taken a backseat. You keep telling me that I have to go and see Mr. White, but it never actually happens. Is the game just this elaborate bullshit you've made up to get women?"

  "No," he says firmly.

  "Then why has everything stopped?"

  "In case you've forgotten," he replies, "the police are interested in the death of one of my former girlfriends. Don't you think that's a very good reason to cool things down for a while? The game can withstand a period of rest. Well, to be honest, the game doesn't like it very much, but some things just have to be accepted".

  "There you go again," I say, "making it sound like the game's alive".

  "It's late," he replies, checking his watch. "Maybe -"

  "I'm going out," I say suddenly, surprising myself. For some reason, even though it's the small hours of the morning, I feel like I want to go and see my mother. Just for a few hours.

  "Where are you going?" Mark asks.

  "I promised my mother I'd go and see her," I tell him.

  "Your mother?" He checks his watch again. "Elly, it's -"

  "I know," I say, grabbing my coat, "but I've got a key, and I'd like to surprise her in the morning".

  "Are you going after Jess?"

  "No," I say. "I'm really, honestly just going to see my mother. And I'll be back, I promise. I'll be back tomorrow evening, okay? Maybe we can do something a bit more normal, like go out to dinner?" I wait for him to reply. "Can we just go out to dinner like normal people?"

  "Maybe," he replies.

  "Maybe?"

  "Maybe".

  I sigh. When Mark says 'maybe', what he really means is that he'll need time to come up with an excuse. There's no way we're going to dinner tomorrow night. In fact, I doubt he's ever going to take me out to dinner. We're not a normal couple. Whatever we have between us, it's strange and weird and fucked-up, and although it's kind of exciting, I'm starting to wonder whether it's what I really want.

  "I'll be back tomorrow," I say, stepping out into the corridor. "I just really want to check up on my mother, okay?"

  "Okay".

  Pulling the door shut, I stand in stunned silence for a moment. After everything that's happened tonight, Mark doesn't seem to give a damn about where I'm going, or even whether I'm truly coming back. The truth is, I'm not sure I am coming back. Until tonight, I've enjoyed spending time with Mark and I've had fun fantasizing about the game and about the kind of things I might experience; I've wanted to explore myself sexually and to get involved with things that are a little dark and kinky. Right now, however, the whole thing feels cheap and tawdry. It's as if I've been caught up in this strange bubble, and now the bubble has burst. Turning and walking away from Mark's penthouse apartment, I'm overcome by the feeling that I'll probably never come back. Not unless he shows me that he cares, anyway.

  Jonathan Pope

  1901

  I spend hours trying to pick the lock, but the broken piece of bone is too big and eventually I have to stop and make it narrower. The process is slow and time-consuming, but soon I'm back at work, jiggling the piece of bone in the lock and trying desperately to get the door open. With proper tools
, the job would have taken just a few minutes, but with a piece of bone it's a much longer process. At times, I feel as if I should give up and accept my fate, but I force myself to keep going and eventually, just when it seems as if all hope is lost, I feel the lock's internal mechanism flick aside, and the door swings open.

  "Sorry, Gregor," I say, glancing back at the dead body. "Turns out there is a way out after all. Couldn't have done it without you, though".

  Barely able to believe that this desperate plan has worked, I sit in stunned silence for a moment. Eventually, however, I get to my feet and stagger out into the dirty, rat-infested corridor. There's no sign of any of the guards, but I still need to be careful; if the other prisoners realize that I've escaped, they'll call for me to open their doors, and I don't have time to do anything other than find a way out of here. I've been in some desperate situations before, but I've never felt so focused on a single goal: I have to get out of this place and kill Harrison Blake. I've killed men for many reasons in the past, but never pure, old-fashioned revenge.

  I push my cell door shut before making my way quietly along the corridor, gripping the piece of broken bone in case I need to use it as a weapon. Although I've achieved a great deal simply by getting out of the cell, there's still a long way to go before I'm out of Sodmarsh. This is one of the largest prisons in London, and its labyrinthine corridors stretch and wind for miles; it's almost as if the place was deliberately built to be confusing, so that prisoners would never be able to find their way out.

  Hearing some voices up ahead, I step into an alcove and wait while some guards pass at the next intersection. Their interminable conversation drifts along the corridor, and for a moment I'm tempted to go and attack them. Finally, however, they part ways, and one of them heads off along another corridor while the other starts coming in my direction. I wait until he's almost upon me, and then I rush at him and ram the bone straight into his neck, while clamping my hand over his mouth in order to ensure that he doesn't scream. There's a brief struggle, as blood flows from the wound in his neck, but I manage to drag the sharp edge of the bone down the side of his neck and finally I'm able to overpower him. I have to hold him tight for a few seconds while he struggles, but finally the blood stops flowing quite so freely and he falls unconscious to the floor. I drag his body around the next corner and then I strip his clothes away.