Persona - A Disturbing Psychological Thriller

by Horn, Marc

  Fay clamped her hand on her mouth. ‘Oh...my...God!’

  ‘In the mornings, she’d wake him up, but he’d plead to stay in bed, because he knew what she’d do if she saw the urine stain. So he’d lie on it, until she pulled him away. Then she’d scream at him and spank him until he was black and blue.’ A tear formed in the corner of his eye. ‘He’d tell her why he’d done it, about the poking, but she’d just laugh at him. “Don’t be ridiculous, you soft little shite!” she’d shout. He’d beg her to let him sleep with her at night, promising her that he wouldn’t wet the bed. Of course he wouldn’t - she’d protect him, wouldn’t she? Obviously she never let him, so every night he was afraid…to close his eyes.’ Dave buried his face in Fay’s chest. ‘I’m not a violent man, but I could have killed that woman.’

  ‘How old was he?’ Fay whispered.

  ‘It started when he was three, ended when he was eleven.’

  ‘Jesus Christ! How could she do that? He was just a baby!’

  ‘I know. And that was just a small part of his ordeal with her-’

  ‘I can’t listen to anymore. Child abuse tears me up.’

  When Dave woke, his head thumped and he felt bedsprings digging into his back. Instantly he remembered the conversation he’d had with Fay and regretted it. Fay was already up and minutes later returned to the bedroom. She eased herself onto the mattress and hugged him. Then her fingers wandered over his body.

  She spent ten minutes stimulating his penis with her hands, mouth and breasts. He couldn’t get hard.

  18

  The autumn air was damp along the riverbank, but the dirt track still firm. Tall reeds lined their path, brown and crispy. Ben ran his fingers along the stems - they felt like a fence; the flexibility had gone. Ahead, a faint mist caressed the water, like a portal to another life. His limbs felt charged. He released Jenny’s hand, wrapped his arm around her and pulled her toward him.

  He stared at the mist and wished that both of them could walk through it and come out the other side as a true couple – feeling unconditional love for one another. He was ready for this. Admittedly, they had much to learn about each other, but that would only draw them closer. He was so adamant about this that it frustrated him. It was as if he knew an answer that everyone else was searching for, but they all ignored him when he told them, preferring to break their backs to find out for themselves. Inside, Jenny probably felt the same assurance as he did, but, unlike him, she resisted it.

  A sloping platform, scarred by initials inscribed before the cement had dried, broke up the reeds. They sat on it and let their legs dangle over the side of the bank. Jenny had a thick blue jumper on, a pink scarf and jeans. He wore a grey T-shirt and navy jogging bottoms.

  ‘Aren’t you cold?’ she asked, feeling his tricep.

  ‘No. I don’t feel it much.’

  ‘I wish I was like that. I can’t sleep without an electric blanket.’

  Ben smiled. ‘I could save you some money.’

  She playfully pushed his shoulder. ‘I trust my blanket, thanks.’

  For minutes, they gazed at the clear, flowing water.

  ‘See those fish?’ he asked, pointing beneath them.

  ‘Yes’.

  ‘They’re just one species of millions of different life forms. That could have been me. I could be swimming there right now. I could have been anything, but I happened to be human. And of all the different religions I could’ve been born into, mine happened to be Christianity. And of all the countries I could have been born in, mine happened to be England. Of all the counties I could be living in right now, mine happens to be London… And of all the nightclubs I could have visited on Friday, September 7, 1990, The Cube happened to be my choice. And of all the girls I could have talked to, I talked to you.’ He looked at her; she appeared deep in thought. ‘Doesn’t that seem pre-determined to you?’ he asked. ‘Or just coincidence?’ He squeezed her hand.

  Her blue eyes were sparkling. ‘Neither really. You kinda stalked me.’ She rested her head on his shoulder.

  He laughed. ‘You’re heartless, you know.’

  Jenny inhaled the fresh air, which had been moistened by the river’s gentle spray. These past few weeks she’d felt different. When she’d first started dating Ben, she’d felt an apprehensive kind of happiness. Now she just felt happiness. This was their sixth date and she felt the kind of contentment that dispels the intensity of loneliness to an inaccessible place. Amazingly, she couldn’t now recreate its feeling of emptiness. She knew it was too soon to feel this way, but emotion had overpowered her. They were impossible to ignore.

  ‘What’re you thinking?’ he asked.

  ‘Private thoughts.’

  ‘Leave it to me to open up, as usual…’ He looked at her. ‘I was going nowhere, convincing myself I was having a good time. I didn’t realise how deluded I was until I met you.’ He placed his hands on her temples. ‘This is what it’s all about. You’re helping me forget the past.’

  Jenny rubbed his hair between her fingers. ‘What happened to you, Ben?’

  He shrugged and then flicked a stone into the water. ‘You don’t need to know. It’s pretty much behind me now. I don’t like to relive it. I get angry and there’s nothing I can do about it.’ He knew it could frighten her off, a consequence he couldn’t risk. ‘All that matters is the future. Nothing from the past can threaten what we have.’

  ‘Promise me you won’t hurt me, Ben. I worry about that.’

  He gently held her face in his hands. ‘Jenny, I will never hurt you and I will never let you be hurt by anyone.’

  19

  As she lay on her bed, Stacey stared through the net curtain. It hid scratches she’d made in the window when she’d scraped away paint marks some time ago. Her thoughts did not involve anything she could see, however. Again she was focusing on that which could not be seen – a deeper meaning.

  Col had degraded her, made her feel that she was nothing. When he’d left her that night, she’d rushed to lock every door and window and barricaded herself in her room. She’d felt so violated and alone. She was a child again, scared of shadows and dependent. On that dreadful night there had been no one to turn to. What had she done? How could she have been so stupid? She had been so desperate for a man, for love, that she had abandoned her faculties and forsaken everything she’d been taught. She felt disgusted, and her self-esteem had plummeted. It was the most horrible feeling and she’d sworn to herself that she’d never take him back.

  That was then.

  Now, nearly a month after the incident, she felt differently. Not that she’d gone back on her promise to herself, but because of a conversation she’d had with Fay. She’d learnt about Col’s abominable mother and the terror of his childhood. Although more extreme than she expected, his experiences reinforced what she already believed about him.

  It hadn’t surprised her that she’d been proved right about his need. She had a special quality in understanding people. Terrible experiences had moulded Col into a cold and damaged person. But not irreparably…

  A hideous industrial building dwarfed the back of her house, casting a depressing darkness over her room. She tried to counteract this with a happy theme: figurines of ballet dancers graced her desktop, photos of her family in bright, flowery frames stood on shelves, colourful dolls sat against skirting boards, and posters of golden meadows and vibrant countryside adorned the walls. She twiddled her golden hair between her fingers. Why was love so difficult? It was a simple and straightforward concept, so why must she be given a higher purpose? In truth, she had never minded that purpose. It made her feel special and chosen - she just liked to curse it to get it noticed by people. She’d never been stretched this far though. She’d never been abused. And that wasn’t the worst of it. During the incident she’d been drawn into his psyche. She’d departed from herself and become like him, speaking words that were foreign to her. Obscene words. Swept away by the surrealism, she had lost control. Two opposing ideals
clashing, it was overwhelming, intense, and she’d succumbed.

  Would it be that way with their characters too? Would she become bitter and twisted like him? She took a breath and smiled - she was too imaginative. She was genuine and he was false. It would be easier to draw out the real Col than the false Stacey. During the past thirty years, she’d developed herself into a good person, whereas he had spent the time hiding from himself and becoming immune to pain. It would take time and patience, but she could find him. There had been a setback, but it was still her fate to guide him. It was her most challenging mission: to make him human. Chinks in the armour were already apparent - she’d seen evidence of humanity. She had a new angle to work from now; his childhood.

  She hadn’t told Fay about the incident. Her promiscuous friend had instantly interrogated her about sex, but Stacey had prepared herself and told Fay that they’d only kissed. It came as no surprise that Fay had slept with Dave, though hearing her heartless account of Dave’s inadequacy shocked her. Stacey hadn’t expected to hear that Dave was impotent, nor was she aware that Fay could be so bitter and inconsiderate. It hadn’t even occurred to Fay that Dave might feel devastated!

  Fay was very headstrong and spontaneous. She found it hard to see the warmth in people. Sometimes Stacey felt envious of that, as it meant that Fay never got hurt – or at least pretended she wasn’t hurt. Stacey, on the other hand, saw the good in people and suffered as she nurtured that good. This was God-given, she reminded herself.

  If she’d told Fay what had happened, Fay would have erupted and demanded that she forget about Col. Her faults aside, Fay was a caring friend. She wouldn’t tolerate Stacey being abused or hurt. She wouldn’t believe that Col was anything but shit. And she wouldn’t understand Stacey’s act of forgiveness, or make sense of Stacey’s reasons for persevering with him.

  Col had a need inside, far beyond his conscious state. Stacey couldn’t work out why he used different names - apparently Ryan was his real name - but she would uncover the reason in time. His hard exterior was a reaction to the past, but portrayed him badly.

  Stacey was concentrating intensely. It was difficult to untangle her complex thoughts. This objectionable character was crying out for her. That much was obvious when you looked at the time he’d spent with her. He was reaching out for help, for someone to care. She sighed. She could not deny their fate. However painful it might be, she had to guide him. He’d found her and phoned her. Therefore he’d opened himself up as much as could be expected. It was her turn to act. The incident had knocked her down, but she had to put it behind her. He had acted out his persona, while she had been impatient, expecting too much, too soon. Yes, it was tougher than anything she’d tackled before, but she truly believed there was a wonderful friend to be made, a boyfriend she could cherish and love. Finally.

  She wanted to prove herself right with Col. Her friends, especially Fay, mocked both her faith in humanity and the good she felt in everyone. Whenever she expressed an interest in someone, they would remind her of all the times she’d been wrong about people. She wanted to revive her self-esteem with Col. She wanted to show him off to everyone, observe their envious gazes, listen to their flattery and feel their disbelief. I was right. I believed in myself, and succeeded alone in finding the beauty within Col.

  20

  Jen hurried. After Zen’s return, she’d taken cabs for the first couple of months. Now she was walking home from work again. She wanted to live a normal life. If she let him inside her head, he’d manipulate and eventually consume her.

  That Zen did not plan to hurt her physically increased her courage and determination. He wanted to take her mind from her, so theoretically she could withstand him. She’d done it before. Just.

  He had almost succeeded back then. She’d needed sessions with a psychiatrist to pull through, but still, she’d beaten him. Only she could undo the damage. It had been up to her to summon the strength to overcome him. The shrink had explained what she needed to do, but healing came from within.

  Zen had failed. She’d beaten him. And she’d do it again. He’d only win if she let him. Sticks and stones…

  What she must not do was think how this could be resolved. Thinking of an end triggered despair. She had to focus on one step at a time. Her domain was the present. Take each day as it comes, Jen…

  Nerves crept in. This situation mirrored a classic horror plot – evil man stalks vulnerable girl. To her left, thick woodland was swallowed by the ink-black sky, and to her right, a dimly lit row of houses seemed surreally small. She opted to sink into the tree line. Was that more foolish or brave? She wasn’t sure, but knew that when she finally got home she’d feel proud and her resilience would toughen. That was what she needed – strength. Every milestone contributed, however unusual and reckless, and this would be one of them.

  Her eyes flicked to the left. The deranged black mass of woodland taunted her like a huge, disturbing painting. Branches - barely defined by feeble street lamps - clawed at the sky like mutant fingers. Jen increased her pace, hoping that someone from one of the houses was watching her. There had to be one concerned individual. A Neighbourhood Watch member perhaps. Someone had to be looking out for her. They would hear her heels clicking on the pavement, rush to the window to ensure she got away safely. This was no place for a lone woman – they had a duty to protect her. Her breath spread and then vanished into the darkness.

  ‘You know I’m in here, don’t you?’

  Jen froze. Her hand pressed her chest as her knees buckled. She forced herself forwards. Twigs cracked beside her.

  ‘Ever seen frost settle on a lifeless body?’ Zen asked.

  Her legs weakened with each step, as if she was climbing a mountain. She had to relax and stand up to him. She took a couple of deep breaths. ‘No, tell me about it.’ The words jumped out of her.

  ‘It’s pure art. I can sit and appreciate such a scene for hours, sometimes days.’

  Jen forced a lump down in her throat. She glanced at the houses. They appeared dark and empty. ‘Am I supposed to be impressed?’ she said, more calmly.

  He spoke sombrely. ‘Oh, Jenny, you used to take such an interest in my pastimes.’

  ‘Yes, I used to. You mean nothing to me now. You’re just a psychopath.’

  He chuckled. ‘You sound nervous. I’m not going to hurt you. It’s your friends I’m going to hurt… Badly.’

  She continued walking. The woods came to an end about two hundred metres ahead. Her house was five minutes away. She was nearly there.

  ‘How’s your boyfriend? The laughing policeman?’

  ‘He’s fine.’

  ‘Don’t his nightmares keep you up?’

  She stopped between street lamps and looked for him. The woods were too dark. He’d done something to John-Paul. With her heart pounding, she resisted tears. She wanted to be with John-Paul. Anger overtook her fear, and she imagined stabbing Zen with a knife. She welcomed the courage that accompanied the emotion. ‘There’s no time for nightmares,’ she said firmly. ‘We’re enjoying life.’

  ‘Nice,’ Zen said. ‘I’m concerned though. I’ve heard his screams. Is he all right?’

  The thought of him standing outside while they slept made her shiver. She wanted to know what he’d done, but asking would satisfy him. ‘You’re mistaken.’

  ‘No, I’m positive. It’s like someone’s wringing his neck till he begs for his life. Till he pleads like a child.’

  Chills burrowed under her spine and she felt so heavy she nearly collapsed. Her beautiful boyfriend had kept this from her to protect her. This animal was torturing him.

  ‘It’s not him I want, sweetheart, it’s you,’ Zen explained. ‘You ignore me, they suffer. You’re sacrificing them, Jenny, one by one.’

  She wiped clear her blurry eyes. She couldn’t take this.

  ‘How you feeling, Jenny?’

  Forcing herself to regain some of her composure, she said, ‘You’re just a bully, Zen.’

 
‘Am I? A bully preys on easy targets. I hunt down anyone in my way. A bully functions through self-indulgence. My interest is revenge, not gain.’

  She moved on as the street rose to a steep incline. Left leg, right leg. Look ahead and keep going. ‘You’ll grow old looking for it,’ she said, trying to sound cold.

  ‘And you’ll grow old suffering. Besides it might come sooner than you think.’

  He threw something in front of her. It skidded along the pavement, coming to rest beneath a lamp. She saw the blade glisten. Then she heard him growl loudly, as if he was lifting something. A piece of rope landed by her feet.

  ‘You better hurry!’ he warned, and then she heard the fading crackle of fallen twigs as he ran off.

  She tensed up. She had to do something. Panic was setting in.

  ‘What is this?’ she whispered in urgency, staring blankly at the items on the ground. She picked up the heavy rope, trying to calm herself down. He said he’d hurt her by hurting someone she loved. The rope was there to guide her, but to what? He’d told her to hurry, and the words reverberated in her head.

  Perhaps she could prevent the worst outcome if she acted fast. But she was in no state to do anything. She felt dizzy and helpless, wanting this to be a dream. She prayed it was a dream. It wasn’t - she had to follow this rope. She pulled it and felt slack. She kept pulling it, wanting to bring the answer to her as she stood on this pavement, rather than search for it in the dark woods. The idea was too terrifying. No, she would keep pulling.

  Suddenly the rope tugged on something and she could pull no more. It was tied to something heavy, which meant she had to go into the trees.

  Her heart couldn’t stand it… You’d better hurry! She was wasting time. She might have already taken too long. No, she told herself. Get in there, Jen. He’s hurting someone and it must be family or John-Paul.