Immediately, he realised he didn’t need to worry about them seeing him. He grimaced as he entered the apartment and closed the door behind him. The wet smacking sounds reminded him of two pigs going at it, though he’d never seen or heard such a thing. The disgusting noises were accompanied by grunts from the man and pig-like squeals from the girl.
He wrinkled his nose and glanced down at his hands, thank-full of the gloves he wore. He was going to have to touch them soon, and he shuddered at the thought of touching them with his bare hands.
He’d been watching the girl for weeks now; that’s how he’d come into contact with this man. The man, Michael, made him angrier. The woman was a slut, but she had no ties. She simply went from man to man, some much older than her who paid her way in the world. She didn’t work, didn’t pay bills or rent. Her car was paid for by one of her sugar-daddies. She nauseated him, sickened him and caused a rage to grow from somewhere deep inside. Though she didn’t charge for sex, she was nothing but a cheap whore, a slut and a prostitute in his eyes.
No, while following her one night, he’d seen her meeting this man she was rutting with right now. A decent young man, it first seemed. He felt Michael needed warning to stay away from this vile filthy woman. Upon following her new sex interest, he’d been dismayed, then enraged when he realised the Michael was as dirty as she was. He had a good job working for his father’s business, a decent car that he paid for with his earnings and a beautiful fiancee that adored him.
Michael had the best life laid out right in front of him, yet here he was, wasting his time on this filth. His temples began to pound painfully as the disgusting noises reached a peak from the other room. There was no making love here tonight, this was pure copulating like animals in the wild. Why would a man risk losing what he had by sleeping with a woman like this?
The man sighed. Well, he had played fair. He had given Michael enough warnings to stay away from this woman. After investigating the people closest to Michael, the people he worked with, he had discovered a member in his office who was on the scam. He had taught the man a lesson with a baseball bat. The man was alive; he hadn’t intended on killing him, but he needed to be punished for his ways as well as serving the purpose of proving to Michael that the lesson being taught was a serious one.
Michael had not paid attention, had actually hung up the phone on him after calling him a wack-job.
He had to admit defeat on this one. There were no lessons to be learnt here. They would both have to die.
He forced himself to remain motionless and tried to block out the disgusting sounds coming from the bedroom. He needed to be very careful; if he let his temper get the better of him, he could blow this whole thing. He didn’t want any of the sluts screaming too loud. They would ring the police, and that would cut the fun really short.
He forced himself to take a deep breath that trembled on the exhale. God, he loved his job. Ridding the world of filth was his calling in life. He didn’t believe in God, didn’t claim to be a cleanser of the world in honour of Him; he did it because he wanted to.
He remained still as the sounds continued. The man had drank a little tonight. It seemed the alcohol and increased his stamina. He wandered into the living room and looked at the clothes strewn across the floor. He stooped down slightly to avoid being seen as he crossed the room to close the curtains. As he pulled the second curtain across, he focused his gaze on the spot in the car park where the mysterious watcher had parked.
He wondered again who he was. He considered the possibility that he was involved somehow with the woman. That could be the reason he’d been watching. Though, why had he been following Michael and not her? He himself had followed Michael from a local bar where, shamefully, he’d been celebrating his engagement.
He was a watcher by nature, and he’d noticed the looks the big man had given. At times, he’d looked like he wanted to jump up and smack Michael in the face. He’d watched the big man follow Michael from the bar, get into his van and follow him again.
Whoever the man was, he wasn’t very good at tailing people. He’d made is so obvious he wondered how Michael hadn’t seen him. Then, Michael’s mind had been on other things. Suddenly, he jerked rigid and sucked in his breath.
The noises from the bedroom had stopped.
A contented sigh from Michael followed by a breathless giggle from her.
Michael’s clothes were strewn across the living room floor; he’d have to come in here to retrieve them. He knew from watching this couple for the past few weeks that Michael never stayed long after the rutting had finished.
He moved behind the living room door and pulled his knife out of his overall pocket. Checking that the buttons on his overalls were fastened all the way up to his neck, he waited.
Instead of leaving the bedroom immediately, Michael stayed for another few minutes. There were no sounds from the room and he worried the two would break their normal routine and Michael would stay the night. He could still do his job of course, but it added risk. He needed to do them one at a time, Michael first. She would scream, alerting the neighbours. Just as he was working out the new plan in his mind, his plan to slit their throats as they slept, voices sounded from the bedroom.
He strained to hear what they were saying. At first the words were spoken too quietly for him to understand, but pretty soon the voices rose, especially hers, Diane..
The were arguing.
“I’m getting sick of this,” Diane said loudly. “You make me feel like a whore the way you turn up and leave as soon as we’ve had sex.”
He shook his head in disgust. This woman was in serious denial. God, she needed to die. More so than anyone he’d taught lessons to before. He didn’t always kill them; it depended on what their crime was. And this woman’s crime was worse than most.
“You knew about me when we met,” Michael replied, his tone hard and clipped. “You knew I have a girlfriend.”
“Oh, and I understand ‘Congratulations’ is in order,” Diane snickered. “Bet the future wifey-poo is over the moon tonight, thinking she’s bagged the most perfect man in the world. I thought you said you were going to tell her about me, about us? You implied you wanted me, then I find out you proposed to her.”
He shook his head, incredulous. She chooses to bring this up now? Sounds like Michael may have led her on a little, but she has sex with him then sounds off about it? The more he heard, the more he couldn’t wait to sink his knife into their necks.
Michael didn’t respond, then Diane began to cry.
“Diane―”
“No. Just go. And don’t come near me ever again.”
“Excuse me,” Michael retorted, sounding angry. “Didn’t you spend the night with that older man you’re seeing three nights ago? What, you can do it but I can’t.”
“That’s not the same thing, and you know it,” Diane replied loudly. “I’m not marrying him.”
“I’m gone,” Michael said, disgust in his tone. Footsteps sounded within the room, heading for the bedroom door. Silence, then Michael spoke again. “And, for the record, I proposed to Louise because I love her. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. If you ever believed I’d pick someone like you over her, you’re crazy. I’m here tonight because of my weaknesses, not hers. I won’t be coming here again. I’m gonna devote myself to her, and her only. Honestly, you’re a good fuck, but that’s all you’re good for. Catch you later.”
A sudden crash startled him. Sounded like Diane had thrown something at Michael. The bedroom door bumped shut and Michael hissed out a laugh.
He braced himself. This was it.
Michael suddenly walked past him and bent down to pick his clothes up. From his position, he could see all of Michael from the back.
Oh this was just too easy.
He crept up behind Michael as he swung the shirt behind him and pushed his arms through. If he noticed the curtains were now shut, he didn’t seem bothered.
He was going to have
to be quick. He’d have liked some time to talk to Michael first, let him know that he was the one who’d been calling, that he was the one who beat Michael’s co-worker within an inch of his life. He’d have liked to see the fear in the cocky man’s eyes. But, it couldn’t be that way.
He stood directly behind Michael. He was taller, but not by much. Michael had a good build on him and would be capable of putting up a decent fight. He needed to strike before Michael could do just that. Not because he was afraid Michael would beat him, but because he didn’t want Diane to escape in the scuffle.
He continued to watch Michael, unable to strike just yet as he revelled in the powerful feeling that rushed through him. He was right there, he could strike and kill at any second, and Michael had no idea.
“Fuckin’ dirty slut,” Michael muttered to himself as he bent over and pushed both legs into his trousers.
Do it. Do it now.
Just as he was about to reach around and ram his knife into Michael’s throat, Michael turned around.
Time stood still as he watched Michael’s eyes meet his, his expression one of pure shock. His mouth gaped open in stunned surprise: the sort of surprise one would get if they were dressing in a darkened room thinking they were alone, only to turn and find someone standing directly behind them.
Oh, the power.
Before Michael’s survival instinct could kick in, he rammed his knife right into Michael’s open mouth. The force of his thrust sent Michael stumbling backwards, gagging and making a high-pitched squealing sound. He draped his arm around Michael’s shoulder to hold him upright and steady as he violently twisted the knife. Michael’s eyes grew so wide it almost looked as if they were protruding from his skull. Michael gripped the front of his overalls, so he moved his face close and whispered “Told ya I was coming for ya.”
He would have liked to see some recognition in Michael’s eyes, but it seemed that shock had gotten hold and his words fell on deaf ears.
He released his hold and Michael slumped to the floor.
Dead.
Smiling, he wiped the knife on the leg of his overalls and listened. There were no sounds from the bedroom, so Diane mustn’t have heard too much. Though the killing was rather quiet, he’d worried that she might hear the sound of Michael hitting the floor and come to see what was happening. She didn’t come, and he supposed he wasn’t too surprised. With what Michael had said to her just before leaving the room, he thought she could come out and see him like this and feel nothing but joy.
He moved to her bedroom door quietly and placed his ear against the wood. Apart from the occasional sniffing sounds, Diane was quiet.
He opened the door slightly, knowing he risked being seen by her full on if she happened to be facing the door. The slight gap allowed him to see Diane’s naked back as she lay on her side. Her bedside lamp was on, but on the lower setting so the light it cast was rather dull. He pushed the door open all the way, ready to charge into the room the second she turned towards him.
She didn’t turn towards him; in fact, she turned farther away from him and buried her face into her pillow. Moving into the room, he climbed onto the bed with her. Wrinkling his nose at the musky smell of sex and sweat, he reminded himself he was covered neck to ankle in overalls, so at least nothing could get on his skin.
“I thought you were going back to the love of your life,” Diane muttered.
She really had no pride, no dignity. Any other woman wouldn’t have allowed the man who’d just humped then insulted her back into the room, let alone on the bed. The tone of her voice made him think she was relieved that he’d come back. Had Michael have still been alive, he might had gotten one last romp for the road.
He placed his knife down on the pink duvet and reached out, touching Diane’s bare back and grimacing at the touch of her tainted skin. His bloody hand left a smear across her skin as he stroked back and forth. Diane writhed a little, then her head turned slightly.
“Is that lotion? Have you come to apologize by way of a sexy massage?”
She began to moan under his touch and he trembled in disgust and anger. The noises she was making made him feel like he needed a shower, a red hot one that would melt skin and flesh from his bones. He began to feel as dirty as she was. He continued to caress her, keeping in mind the mental image her face would register when she saw him.
Still writhing, she stretched and rolled onto her front, her face still turned away. He ran his hands over her back and pictured doing this after his hands were dripping in her blood.
Diane moaned a little, then her body went a little stiff. “What’s that horrible smell?” She raised her head and he grabbed his knife from the duvet.
It happened in slow motion.
Diane turned; she saw him; her eyes went wide and her mouth opened to scream; he stabbed her in the back of the neck and twisted sharply; her eyes began to glaze; he settled back and watched her die.
When it was over, he was actually a little surprised. Diane had lived for a while after. She still blinked as her blood pooled on the mattress. She twitched and drooled blood. She looked at him, but didn’t seem to be seeing him.
All the watching, the following, the digging into backgrounds and personal information. It all came down to this. He felt a large weight lift from his chest as he watched Diane take her last shallow breath.
Normally, he’d allow himself a little time off before beginning his next job. Maybe go and visit family, or spend a weekend away. Already however, his next job was lined up.
It’d never happened this way; a job finding him. Usually, it took many hours of watching and observing different people. Contrary to popular belief, the human race was not a complete waste of time. He’d seen many people who led decent enough lives.
But here it was, the blood of his most recent lesson still waiting to coagulate and he had another mission lined up.
It was time to find out who big man was. What he’d been doing following his kills and what his story was.
Once he knew who he was dealing with, he could figure out the appropriate punishment.
Chapter Five
I awoke the next morning to sunlight streaming through my thin curtains and a pounding headache.
The dark figure from last night may have gotten nowhere near me, but he’d certainly stalked and caught me often in my dreams. My heart began to pound as I re-lived the events from the night before and tried again to make sense out the man’s actions.
No matter which way you looked at it, it didn’t make sense.
The man had clearly been aware of me, had known somehow that I was watching the couple. I couldn’t decide what the hell had happened, but I hoped the experience would serve as a deterrent the next time I had the urge to follow strangers.
Checking my digital alarm beside my bed, I groaned when I noticed it was 12.26 PM.
Slept the whole bloody day away.
I flopped back into my pillows and sighed.
Might just stay here all day.
A sudden image of the hooded figure pointing to me then waving flashed into my mind and I sat up quickly.
Not lying in bed thinking of this shit.
I hurried to the bathroom and showered quickly before dressing. I spent the next hour scrubbing and cleaning my already clean flat, even though my stomach growled loudly and I began to feel sick from hunger.
Once the flat was gleaming and smelled of bleach and pine disinfectant, I made my way into the kitchen and placed the pan on the hob to boil for a coffee. My kettle had blown up two weeks earlier and every day since I had sworn this was the day I’d go and buy a new one.
The thing was, I worked at a large supermarket that sold kitchen electrical appliances.
What can I say, I had things on my mind.
Rooting through my cupboards and finding nothing of interest, I realised that the local fish and chip shop would be open. The thought set off a new round of stomach growling and I turned off the hob, grabbed my jacket and hurrie
d out of my flat.
Stepping quietly past George’s closed front door, I rushed down the stairs and out of the main exit.
I lived on the top floor of a large Victorian house that had been converted into flats. I’d lived there for around 4 years and liked the place, but I couldn’t wait for the day when I could afford to live in a real house with a back garden for the nice weather.
George was also a problem.
I liked George and felt bad when I thought of the old man this way, but he was a typical lonely figure and could keep you talking for hours about nothing of interest.
I was too hungry and too preoccupied with the night’s events to be bothered today.
I popped to the local shop for the morning paper and then to the chip shop. I sighed in pleasure as I entered, the wonderful smells making my stomach growl loudly.
Rushing back to my flat and all but running up the stairs, I stopped abruptly when I saw what was on the top step.
I felt a twinge of fear and let out a long breath as I stared at the dark bundle. Large and jet black in colour, it blocked the way to my flat. There was no way I could get around it without getting hurt. I slowly backed down one step, and the dark bundle moved.
“Samson,” I said menacingly.
The enormous black cat swished his long tail and seemed to grin at me.
He belonged to George, had lived here before me and seemed to think all the top floor was his. George liked to describe the cat as mischievous; I liked to think of him as pure evil.
Not long after moving in I’d had to stop leaving my shoes outside of the front door since the cat pissed in them every night, and I shuddered to think of how many welcome mats I’d thrown out for the same reason.
I could deal with that behaviour, it was this guarding behaviour that I hated.
At least I’d spotted him this time.
The cat usually lied in wait among the stairs. The light was dim and in the darkened staircase the black cat blended well in the shadows. This was a new development in the cat’s continued torment of me; lying in wait then pouncing as I descended the stairs. He’d almost broken my neck in a headlong fall at least four times just this past few weeks.
Stalked Page 3
