by Matt Shaw
Why am I dragging this out anyway? It’s obvious she isn’t going anywhere until she has spoken to her mother or father. She can’t leave now. I’m just stringing her along but for what purpose? I guess there’s a little part of me - buried within - which doesn’t want to hurt her or force her to be my prisoner too.
Only a little part. There appears to be a bigger part, more sadistic, which is looking forward to seeing the look upon her pretty face. I guess I’ve come a long way since my dear departed friend, Jen.
Laura waited on the stairs for a little longer - waiting for someone to answer her from upstairs. She turned to me. I could read her like an open book. She knew there was a small chance what I was saying was true. She even wanted it to be true too, for some reason. She turned her attention back to the top of the stairs and called out for her mum and dad again. She wanted what I said to be true but still couldn’t quite trust in what I said one hundred percent. One of those faces, I guess? I mean - come on - I’ve answered everything she has thrown at me perfectly so there’s no real reason why she shouldn’t trust what I’m saying. Definitely must have one of those faces. She carried on up the stairs.
Well - that’s that then. No more tormenting her. No more playing ‘nice’. Time to show her who I really am.
I patiently waited for her to get to the top of the stairs. I don’t have to. I want to. I want to hear the scream when she realises what I’ve done to her parents. I want to see the horrified look on her face when she realises she is next. I want to see the panic in her eyes as she contemplates what I’m going to do to them all. I want to see it all and - thankfully with my perfect senses - I will. The sadistic streak in me again, rearing its ugly head from wherever it keeps hiding itself during my weaker moments.
First came the scream. Then came the horrified look on her face as she turned to look back down the stairs towards me. Ah there it is...Finally...The look of panic as she realises she is next. I smiled at her and flashed her a wink. Before she could let out another scream I was standing next to her with my hands wrapped tightly around her scrawny little neck. Oh, how easy it would be to snap it with a simple flick of my wrist. I won’t though no matter how great the temptation. Waste not, want not - as the old saying goes. Besides, if I’m to be snapping any necks today - I’ll be starting with Frank’s wife for no other reason than to see if he does a little song and a dance when he sees that she is dead. Dance a merry jig. I still suspect he’s simply playing to his audience when he says how much he hates her. I still believe, if she were to die suddenly of - say a broken neck for example - he’d be crushed.
Speaking of crushed - Laura’s turned a funny purple colour and her eyes look as though they’re about to pop from her dainty skull. Best loosen my grip a little. She dropped to her knees as soon as I released my hand, where she started to desperately try to catch her breath.
Frank was shouting at me from the other room as was his wife. Both of them begging me not to hurt their precious daughter. Frank saying something about the bang being unintentional and begging me to take it out on him instead of his daughter. They can shout and scream as much as they want but at the end of the day I’ll do as I please. The way my mind is working, the strength I have flowing through my poisoned veins, I don’t have to listen to anyone anymore. I don’t have to take any more orders ever again. In the space of a few days I’ve gone from bottom of the food chain to the top and I don’t plan to be knocked off my perch now that I’m here.
“I wouldn’t if I were you...” I looked down to where Laura was crouched on the floor by my feet. Her mind telling her to jump up and shove me backwards down the stairs in the hope of breaking my neck in the fall. Foolish girl. Although I’m not ready to put it to the test yet I’m pretty sure my neck can’t be broken.
Not permanently anyway.
Frank called to me from the other room, “Please - just leave. Take what you want and just leave. Please I’m begging you.”
Take what I want? I was looking down at his daughter; still on her knees in front of me. Impure thoughts racing through my mind. A good job she isn’t a mind-reader although - going from the expression on her face - I could be wrong about that. I smiled. Take what I want? Well okay, Frank, if you insist. Within the blink of an eye I bent down and scooped her up into my arms. She didn’t have the time or the breath to try and fight me off - which, for her, was just as well. At the moment I could still be persuaded to be gentle with her. If she were to fight me the chances of gentle treatment would be out of the window. I carried her through to the bedroom opposite the one where Frank and his wife were. Standing in the doorway I turned to look at them. Frank was frantically trying to undo the knot in the restraints which bound his ankles. Foolish Frank. Glad I did a double-knot. Good luck with the arthritic fingers there, Frank. I turned back into the spare-room. Laura was starting to struggle over my shoulder. And good luck with that, girl. I cast her off and she bounced onto the bed. She looks worried. She looks helpless. Is it wrong that I’m finding this arousing?
Sweet, quiet office worker Adam is all but gone now. This is the new me. And I plan to embrace it. I welcome the change in personality. I welcome the new me with open arms.
“Please - whatever you’re going to do...Please don’t,” she begged me. I like the sound of her voice when she begs. It sounds cute. She’s cute.
The chances are that I don’t have the necessary time to find the restraints to bind her down before Frank frees himself from his own restraints so I issued her a warning, “If you love your mum and dad - you’ll wait here for me to come back. The moment you step foot outside of this bedroom...The moment you try anything...No matter how slight...I’ll skin them.” She started to cry. I don’t need to read her mind to know she believes me. Even so I continued with my threat - carried away with the sadistic-ness of it all, “And then I’ll come back here and fuck you whilst wearing your father’s face.” I smiled at her and stepped from the room, closing the door behind me. Across the landing Frank was still struggling in the other room.
“What did you do? What did you do, you son of a bitch?” he screamed at me. To think - earlier he had seemed to be so relaxed with the situation - as though he didn’t care if he lived or died. Now though I’m seeing a new side to him. But then I’m also seeing a new side to me too.
It really is a day full of surprises.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I closed the bedroom door and stood next to the bed where Laura was still lying - too scared for her parents’ safety to move. Good girl.
I love the way she looks. The nervous expression on her worried face only heightens my feelings towards her. Being in her mind I know she isn’t as pure as she first appears but I don’t care. She looks cute. Pure and cute and I want some of her purity to wash over me before I take it from her.
“What did you do to them?” she asked.
She was referring to her parents. Clearly I’m not wearing her father’s face as a mask so she must know they’re okay. Even so I’ll spell it out for her to make her worry a little less about them. After all - I want her to be worrying about what I’m going to do to her instead as it will heighten my own sensations. “They’re fine,” I told her. “I just redid their restraints.”
“What do you want from us?”
Safe Haven. Blood. The usual. I won’t tell the whole story again. I’m bored with talking about it. I looked her up and down, she definitely is cute. And the look in her eyes when she was on her knees looking up at me from the landing. Fearful of me and yet...Did I detect a look of ‘want’ in her eyes too? Does she want this as much as me? Or is the new me seeing things which aren’t really there?
I reached down and touched her bare ankle where her tight, faded-blue jeans weren’t quite long enough to reach her converse trainers. She flinched away from my touch.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “Relax.” I pulled her trainers off and threw them to the floor. She whimpered but didn’t put up much of a fight, if any at all.
“Undo the button,” I instructed her.
She hesitated for a moment before doing as I commanded. Her little whimpers turned to yet more tears as I pulled her jeans down to her ankles. Lacy white panties and white ankle socks. There’s something school girlish about her now. My excitement grew a little. I placed my hand on the smooth skin of her leg again and stroked it upwards to her thigh. I looked at her face - she wasn’t looking at me. She had turned her head to the side as though trying to bury it in the pillow she rested upon. I stroked my hand over the material of her underwear. My breathing changed as it became heavy.
I lowered my head to her panties and breathed in. So fucking good. I can only imagine what it would feel like to be inside of her. Tight, I’ll bet. Wait. I don’t need to imagine.
I moved away from her and ordered her to, “Remove your top.”
Again there was a slight pause as she hesitated. A quick look into her mind - she knew it was pointless not doing what I instructed her. She knew if would cause more pain in the long run if she were to fight me. Go along with it, she was thinking, if only to make it easier on herself. Smart girl. She sat up and removed her top just as I had instructed. She dropped it to the floor. All the time she kept looking to the side as though too disgusted to look at me. Perhaps imagining one of her favourite celebrities in my place; something which would help get her juices flowing to take the sting from the initial penetration. Perhaps.
“And your bra.”
She reached around and undid the bra’s clasp behind her back, freeing her breasts. Lovely breasts - not big by any stretch of the imagination but enough. Perfect small nipples. Standing to attention already. Bite-able. She is a vision of innocence; the white panties, the white socks, the small breasts. Innocence defined.
With no warning a wave of guilt washed through me as I saw a flash of what was to come race through my mind; her screaming as I thrust deep inside her again and again. Pain in her eyes and the slightest hint of a struggle from underneath me. Her parents screaming through gagged mouths in the other room as their daughter’s crying and my own groaning spelt out what was happening. Even the thought of my orgasm, shuddering through my body, brought no sense of wellbeing to my current state. The sight of my penis coated in her blood from where I’d been too rough and she hadn’t quite been ready for me. The thought that this act...My ejaculation wouldn’t be so much as sperm but more than likely be the last remnants of my tattered soul. No.
I started to cry. My eyes stung. What the fuck? I pressed my hands hard against them to try and stop the stinging sensation. By the time I pulled my hands away again I realised they were red. What the fuck? I raced to the window where I could see my reflection. I was thankful it was still staring back at me but not thankful when I realised blood was trickling from my eyes. The rancid river of toxins flowing through my dying veins. What the hell is happening to me? I turned back to the bed where Laura was still waiting for me. Shaking and still not daring to look at me. I knew she was wondering what was happening and what I was waiting for.
What am I doing?
I’m not a rapist. I’m not that person. Just because the police want me for it, it doesn’t mean I should become what they suspect me to be already. I’m not that person. I refuse to be. I’m getting carried away with thoughts of an immortal life. But what use is a life such as that when it’s to be forever damned? I can’t do this. I can’t. I won’t.
“Get dressed,” I snapped.
I hurried from the room before she could see my face and closed the door. With the doors to both bedrooms closed I was alone. I sunk to the floor with my back against the door to Laura’s room and started to weep - ignoring the stinging sensation burning my eyes.
“Please help me, God. Please. Help me.” I’ve never been one who has believed in a God looking over us. With so much evil in the world - how can there be a God? Now though I realise there must one looking down upon us. For such evil as Helen of Troy to exist in the world there must be a Satan. And if there’s a Satan, there must be a God. Just because he’s unseen by most it doesn’t mean he isn’t there watching us. He has to be. Waiting for us to join his side. Growing up I’m sure someone once taught me that God rules above and is the creator of the universe but Satan, the fallen angel, rules underneath with his minions living amongst us to try and convert us - just as God’s children, the vicars and priests of the world also try and convert us. As I find myself sitting on this side of the fence, I have a feeling I know who will win.
“I’m sorry,” I said through the door. I was talking to Laura but I knew everyone could hear me. And that was fine. It didn’t matter. What I had to say to Laura wasn’t a secret from Frank and his wife. It wasn’t for Laura’s ears only. “I wasn’t going to touch you,” I continued, “I promise. That’s not who I am. It’s what this darkness inside of me wants me to be but...That’s not who I am.” I hesitated. “I have a wife at home. Our relationship is in a bit of a state - well now it’s definitely over but...Before all of this happened to me...Before I became this...I mean then...My relationship was in a bit of a state. Pretty sure my wife had fallen out of love with me. I thought I had too but - seeing you on the bed like that...The thoughts running through my mind of what I could have done to you...The most prominent thought was of my wife and how disappointed she’d be if I were to touch you.” I couldn’t help but laugh, “Given the last text message she sent me where she was angry because I had to work late...You’d think I’d be used to disappointing her.” I paused unsure as to whether anyone was even listening to what I had to say. “Well I just wanted you to know that - despite what’s happening here - I’m sorry for making you do that and it won’t happen again.” At least I hoped that it wouldn’t happen again. The darkness inside of me is becoming harder to control. The last few acts of aggression I’ve done - I’ve done them before I knew what I was really doing. And that frightens me. The loss of control. I shook the thought from my mind. I need to stop being a fucking pussy. At the end of the day I didn’t touch her because she’s beneath me. A mere human. It’s like fucking a pet. To me she is nothing but a source of food and I’m sure she’ll taste exquisite.
I felt a sadistic smile spread across my lips as I leant back against the door and explained to Laura what had brought me to being here. She has felt my power. She has seen my rage. She has seen a glimpse of what I’m capable of. I wonder if she’ll believe me any more than Frank chose to. I wonder what it will take for them all to believe. Through the door, and for the final time, I explained the story of how I met Helen of Troy.
“What the fuck has this got to do with us?” Laura screamed back at me.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Hours have passed since I fled the bedroom where I put Laura. I’m not sure how many exactly. Time doesn’t feel the same today as it did yesterday - or even earlier this morning. It’s hard to explain. I just know that something isn’t right. The day feels all wrong. In fact I’m not even sure that it has been hours. I feel all wrong; one minute full of a dark, sadistic energy and the next, back to the usual meek self I was before I met that damned woman...Thing...Whatever she was. No woman that’s for sure. Monster. It’s getting harder to fight whatever is brewing within me. I nearly lost all control when I stripped Laura on the bed and I nearly lost all control again after I told her my story; when telling her I was so convinced that when I finished I was going to kick the door in and rip her throat out with my teeth, letting her warm blood spit onto my face and into my mouth. There was a tiny part of me - way deep down - which was terrified at the prospect despite the rest of me yearning for it more than I’d ever lusted after anything else
in my pitiful life.
Truth be told I’m not entirely sure how the last shred of humanity hasn’t slipped away from me already. I’m not sure what is keeping it hanging in there by a single thread. There must be some reason I haven’t changed completely. There must be something. I just wish I knew what it was so I could be sure not to lose it. Whatever it is.
On the one shoulder I have this noisy, twisted little Devil with grand ideas for vengeance upon all those who have ever wronged me. How fun it would be to go out and hurt those who’ve hurt me in the past. On the other shoulder I have this Angel - his voice is meek from the poison he has been infected with. How much longer until his voice fades for good?
When it does suddenly disappear...If it suddenly disappears...I wonder if I’ll even notice or whether I’ll even remember I had any humanity in the first place. Or will it be as I imagine reincarnation - a new life with no knowledge of the previous existence? If I am to turn I hope it’s that. I hope I don’t remember what I was. I hope the old me is nothing but a long forgotten ghost.
I got up from where I was still leaning back on the bedroom door and walked into the bathroom. A look in the mirror showed I still had a reflection. Still human. My cheeks were smeared with blood from where I had cried earlier. Still human. I think. They were tears of blood but surely that still counts for something? That still shows there is a little piece of humanity still dwelling within me.
