Dead Broken - Psychological Thriller / Horror

by Gerard Gray

  Was she the blonde boy’s girlfriend? I wasn’t sure. Did it fucking matter?

  An unbelievable sense of sadness drifted over me once more. He must be a sociopath – that was the only answer. I almost laughed at my naivety. I didn’t understand how anyone could bring himself to do this to another human being, though.

  I looked at the girl’s long legs once more and as I did so something began to happen. I looked away in a bid to stop it, but it continued to grow. I was beginning to get an erection. I was disgusted with myself, but I had no control over this whatsoever. I made a conscious effort not to look at her; the least I could do here was give her that tiny bit of respect. I couldn’t believe my body was reacting like this in the face of such abject horror.

  “Do you like your present? I call her Bunches.”

  I looked at him. I hoped to God he couldn’t read my mind. I felt so ashamed.

  “No…” I said, instantly raising a wall between my thoughts and the rest of my body. “No, I don’t. Please. For the love of God, don’t hurt her. Please let her go. She’s done nothing to you. She’s just a kid. I won’t tell a soul about any of this, I promise. Please let her go.”

  Steven put up his hand for me to stop.

  “I have a proposition for you. A way out, if you like.”

  I found myself holding my breath, not daring to breathe. Like the stirring of some hideous monster, my oxygen-starved heart started to morph, started to grow, its long alien tendrils stretching and squirming out into my limbs. I turned my head from the dreadful scene before me. I had to get out of there. I was going to be sick. My eyes raced around the room in search of an exit.

  Steven grabbed my face stopping my eyes dead.

  “I’ll let you go, if you do one thing for me.”

  I returned my stare to Steven, but I still couldn’t look him in the eye.

  Steven nodded towards the girl.

  “If you do one simple thing for me, then I’ll let you both go.”

  “Both?”

  “Yes.”

  I thought about this for a second, my heart squirming, my head a mangled nest of worms. I couldn’t think straight. Was he fucking with me? Of course he was fucking with me. He was going to kill everybody in this room and that was the end of it.

  “You’ll let us both go?”

  “Yes. You have my word on that.”

  Bollocks. No way was he going to let us both go. But in saying that, I didn’t even know what he wanted from me yet. I pushed myself forward to ask the question. “And just what exactly… do you want me to do?”

  “Simple. I want you to fuck her in the arse.”

  *

  I was sitting in the chair that the boy had been tortured to death in. The table of horrors was still lined with all the familiar instruments of death. I noticed the small scalpel that he had used to finish the boy off with. I turned away from it, a sickness rising in my stomach.

  I had refused to even look at the girl from the moment he had suggested that I rape her. Thankfully my penis had deflated like a burst balloon the second he had made the proposition; my dick had some integrity after all.

  Steven had let me sit down. He probably thought I was thinking over his offer, but I had no intention of going anywhere near that girl, even if it was to save my own skin, even if I did think she was good looking.

  Stop it. Fucking stop it. She was probably under age. Who was I kidding – she was definitely under age.

  Steven leaned over the girl and pulled up her tight tee shirt. The top had two words embossed over a large red heart: “Love Me”. I turned away quickly, but not quick enough to avoid catching her breasts. They were reassuringly large. Surely a young girl wouldn’t have breasts that large. This had been a debate that had been raging in my head for the last ten minutes. How old was she? She could have been eighteen, at a push. On the other hand she could have been a rather mature looking fourteen-year-old.

  “How old is she,” I asked.

  “How old do you think she is?”

  “About the same age as your daughter.”

  Steven gave me a crippling look. “Oh, no, no, no you don’t. My daughter doesn’t come into this, Peter, and if you mention her one more time, I’ll cut your dick off and ram it up your own arse. Do we understand one another?” Steven was standing over me, his eyes drilling into my head like a dentist. I lowered my gaze, dropping my face to the floor.

  “I’ll ask you again, Peter. How old do you think she is?”

  “I don’t know. Seventeen? Fifteen? I don’t know.”

  “You can’t tell, can you? Very attractive girl, though?”

  I said nothing; she could have been thirteen for all I knew.

  “If I told you she was seventeen, would that make you feel better? Would it?” He laughed. “What difference does it make whether she’s fourteen or seventeen, anyway? You still find her attractive, right? Or does that make a difference? Will you no longer find her physically attractive if I tell you she’s thirteen? Is that how it works, Peter? Do we simply apply logic to sexual attraction? You’re a man and she’s a woman, right? A woman who’s probably been menstruating and masturbating for the last five years. It’s society that tells you that it’s wrong to fancy a fourteen-year-old, not human nature. We fight against it, Peter, a bit like your priests and their celibacy. Now, there’s our society in action again. In our society it’s wrong to have sex with a minor, because society can’t cope with a minor having a kid. That’s fair enough. But that doesn’t stop you fancying her. You just know you can’t act upon it, because she’s not in a position to look after herself, never mind a kid. Do you see what I mean? It’s society that has decided these rules, not human nature. Don’t feel bad about fancying her Peter. It’s human nature.”

  I caught myself staring at him in disbelief. What could I say to that? Did he seriously think he was going to talk me into having sex with this child?

  “Don’t worry your precious heads about it, Peter. She’s seventeen, I swear it on your mummy and daddy’s grave.”

  I cringed on hearing him say this. It wasn’t the first time I had heard him say it either. I hoped my dad was listening and I hoped he was getting pissed off. I looked at the girl. No way was she seventeen. She was fifteen if she was a day. And besides, seventeen was still under age. Wasn’t it?

  “She’s still under age.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Seventeen. You’re not an adult until you’re eighteen.”

  “Not true, not true. You’re allowed to have sex on turning sixteen, with anyone you please. It’s only an offence when someone in a position of trust has sex with someone they are looking after who isn’t eighteen yet. A common misconception, my friend.”

  I turned my head away from both him and the girl. He was no friend of mine.

  “Let’s say I make the pot even sweeter, Peter. You just have to fuck her, this legal seventeen-year-old before us.” Steven gave me a quick wink. “Then I’ll let you both go. I get to film it, though; goes with the territory.”

  I stared at the girl. No way was I going to touch her. How could I ever look my family in the eye again if I even laid a finger on her? It was unthinkable. It wasn’t going to happen… ever.

  You find her attractive, though, don’t you?

  No. No, I don’t.

  Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  “Let’s say I refuse?”

  Steven tutted. “Oh, I wouldn’t recommend that. I promised you that I would let you go, and I will, in the morning. That’s only a couple of hours away. And I mean it. I will let you go. But only if you get jiggy with Bunches.”

  “What will happen to the girl? You said you would let her go, too.”

  “Well, that depends on the performance now, doesn’t it. I think it requires sixes across the board. But I promise you, I will seriously think about letting her go as well. But if you don’t fuck her, then I will, and I like rough sex, Peter, I really do. I’ve broken bones during sex, I’ve fractu
red skulls; fuck, I’ve even killed people during sex. And then there’s our old friend Mr Scissors over there. I do like to bring out Mr Scissors during coitus. No, I think it would be better all round if you did as I asked. And you never know… you might just enjoy it.”

  Steven reached down to her cotton panties. He slid the crotch to the side to reveal puffy labia hidden beneath a dark foliage. Look at that Peter, is that not a work of art. Is that not beautiful? If I weren’t holding my cocked gun in my hand right now, I’d give her a round of applause. Well done, I’d say to her, well fucking done.” Steven caressed the girl’s lips with his fingers, and as he did so he violently slid his middle digit deep into her vagina.

  I turned away, my penis once again betraying me. Fucking traitor. I could feel it growing uncomfortably in my boxers, stuck up against the side of my leg. I shuffled in my seat in a bid to shift it, but it refused to budge. I didn’t want him to know I was getting a hard on, so I stopped moving.

  You certainly are enjoying this, aren’t you, Peter.

  Shut up.

  I heard a whimper. I looked down to see the girl staring up at Steven. She began to scream. Oh God, oh dear God no. Steven smiled down at her, his filthy hand thankfully back by his side. He reached over and stroked her face with what appeared to be the same finger that he had just molested her with.

  “Peter, it’s time for you to decide,” he said, smiling down at the girl. “She’s a live one now. I bet she bucks like a hare. You’re a lucky man, Peter. Get your cock out, there’s a good lad.”

  I turned my head away, and as I did so I caught sight of the scalpel. It was clean, no blood; Steven had scrubbed up well. I looked back at Steven to see if he was looking at me. He wasn’t. He had his attention firmly fixed on the girl.

  “I’m waiting, Peter. If you don’t do this, I promise you I’ll kill you both. I think you know my promises are good.”

  No one will ever find out, Peter.

  I can’t.

  Sure you can.

  I’m better than this.

  No, you’re not.

  *

  I slowly got to my feet and started to undo my trouser buttons.

  “There’s a good lad. You know it makes sense.”

  I pulled down my zip and steadily walked over to the bed. Steven stood back to let me in, delighted that I had chosen to cooperate. He then reached over and pulled my new pair of boxers down around my buttocks. My semi flaccid penis pleased him no end. “I like it, I like it a lot, Peter. You’re a lucky girl.”

  Steven pushed and pulled my listless body onto the bed and into position. The man looked like he was hanging on bated breath, buzzing with lustful anticipation. I hesitated for a second, resisting him, but then found myself giving in. I eased myself over until I was lying between the girl’s slightly parted legs, her panties still pulled to the side. I caught a glimpse of her eyes. She was no longer screaming, but she looked terrified.

  I started to sob. What was I doing?

  Steven pumped my buttocks, simulating sex, pushing my penis hard against her vagina. He was doing his best to humiliate the both of us. I tried to resist him, to resist myself, but he pushed all the harder. Concentrate on what you’re doing, I thought to myself. Do not get a hard on. You’re better than this. Do not get a hard on.

  I was getting a hard on.

  I lowered my head to the point where my face was touching the girl’s ear.

  “That’s right, kiss her ear; stick your tongue in it.”

  She started to struggle violently but Steven had restrained her well. I placed my mouth against the side of her head as if to kiss her tenderly. I reached both my hands around her buttocks. Steven was about to explode with excitement. I don’t think he’d bargained on me going this far, on me rising to the occasion like this. I turned my head slightly to see him fumbling for something in his jacket pocket. He had his back to us.

  Now was my chance.

  I quickly slipped the scalpel out from my shirtsleeve and pushed it nervously into the girl’s bonded hands. I felt like my heart was about to explode.

  “It’s a scalpel,” I whispered.

  Bunches went berserk. I don’t think she had understood what I had said to her.

  Steven came back around the side of the bed. He was holding his smart phone out in front of him. I prayed to God that he wouldn’t see the scalpel.

  “I’ve got to film this for posterity. This is good stuff. YouTube here we come. Now, come on Peter, I want some penetration. It’s not every day you get to fuck a thirteen-year-old.”

  I stopped dead.

  “Only yoking eggy. Back to work.”

  The poor girl was suddenly hysterical and who could blame her. I buried my mouth in her ear in an attempt to calm her down. “Escape. Use the scalpel to escape. I’ll distract him. Cut the rope. Escape.”

  She stopped struggling. The both of us stared into each other’s eyes.

  “What’re you saying there,” Steven said, jabbing me painfully in the back. “There’ll be no sweet nothings, if you please. If you want to talk dirty, do it for the camera.”

  Steven was standing over the pair of us like a sleazy pornographer. He didn’t need to try too hard to look like a pervert with his greasy, lank, grey hair tied back in a ponytail. Fuck he was unctuous: a specky, cock-eyed, unctuous bastard. I swung my attention back at him like a baseball bat. I had managed to get the scalpel into the girl’s tied hands, for all the good it was going to do her. It would probably be nigh on impossible for her to cut the bonds around her wrists, but it was all I had to work with. It was time to carry out part two of my plan.

  “I need the toilet.”

  “No you fucking don’t. You’ve already done the toilet, don’t you remember? And please tell me you went when you were having a shower, not that I would condone such an action. But please tell me you went?”

  “The accident in my pants wasn’t that much, and I didn’t go when I was in the shower. I’m sorry, but I need to go now.”

  “Later.”

  “Now!”

  Steven’s eyes slashed me like a razor blade.

  “If I don’t go now then I’m going to shit myself… again. I tried to tell you earlier but you wouldn’t listen; I’ve had a problem holding in my stools ever since the stabbing. The knife messed up my guts – it burns like a fire when I need the toilet. I’m amazed I’ve lasted this long. If I don’t go now I’ll shit all over this girl.” A thought occurred to me. Perhaps he would like that. Perhaps he would want to film it for posterity. Thankfully, by the look on his face it was clear that this was not the case.

  “Come on you fucking kill joy. But you’re not doing it in the house. I’ll get you some toilet roll and you can shit in the field like the animal you are.”

  I was the animal?

  Steven dragged me from the bed.

  Just before reaching the door I turned my head to the girl and mouthed the word “escape”. Steven pushed me all the way up to the toilet with one hand, the shotgun in the other. He disappeared into the toilet reappearing seconds later carrying a toilet roll.

  “Down the stairs,” he ordered.

  Steven marched me out of the house and into the garden. It was pitch dark so I couldn’t see a thing beyond the light of the backdoor. Steven handed me the toilet paper and propelled me out into the frosty night. I quickly wandered off into the darkness.

  “Not too far,” he said. “That’s far enough.”

  I stumbled around looking for a good place to do it. On finding a secluded corner I pulled my trousers down and squatted into position. My empty bowls grumbled away. I didn’t need the toilet. I had lied to him. It was one of the first lies I had told in almost twenty years, but I was sure that God would forgive me just this once. I continued to squat. I had to give the girl time, but I didn’t have much hope that she would be able to escape. I had to give her the benefit of the doubt. She probably hadn’t understood me, though. And even if she had done, I’d given her an almost
impossible task. How the hell was she going to manoeuvre the scalpel to the point of being able to cut the rope around her wrists? My heart sank on realising how flawed my ad hoc plan had been. At least I had tried.

  “You’ve got one more minute.”

  Fuck.

  “I can’t rush it. My injury makes going to the toilet painful.”

  “I don’t fucking care, hurry up.”

  Steven walked out into the dark to see what I was doing. “I thought you said you were desperate? Enough. Get in there.” Steven pulled me to my feet, dragging me towards the farm. “And if you so much as even fart I’ll…” Both our heads shot towards the farm as a crescendo of shattering glass tumbled onto wooden floorboards. Steven pulled me out of the way and started for the door. In a flash I knew what I had to do. He had turned his back on me for a split second and it was all that I needed. I threw myself onto him with all my might bringing my clasped hands down hard onto his greasy head. The two of us fell to the ground clambering, his gun and specs zipping across the floor. I punched him pathetically, again and again, all the while screaming at the top of my lungs “Run, run, get out of there, run.” I knew how dark it was outside. If she could only get herself out of that window, there was a good chance she could disappear into the cold, black night.

  Steven flicked me over onto my back and scrambled towards his shotgun. As he did so he kicked me in the face almost knocking my teeth out. He got to his feet, grabbed his gun and specs and then ran for the room.

  Within seconds he was back standing over me, the fires of hell raging in his eyes, manic and satanic.

  “She’s gone, hasn’t she?” I said, smiling, my battered mouth tasting of eggs.

  Steven reached down, grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to my feet. He then forced me towards the cellar door, kicked it open and tossed me into the room, propelling me down the stairs. I fell sprawling to the floor, jarring my wrist in the process. The lights went on. Steven jumped down the stairs and dragged me over to the bed. I started to struggle but it was too late – he had already attached the chain to my leg.