Persona - A Disturbing Psychological Thriller

by Horn, Marc

  She kept the rope taut as she made her way into the woods. Stumps and branches scraped on her legs and arms. A few feet further on, she remembered the knife. Without allowing its purpose to feed her imagination, she turned back and grabbed hold of it, her trembling fingers barely able to grip it. Once again she followed the rope, the air chilling her tears. She wanted to collapse on the dirt and cry, but she kept going. Cursing the trees smacking against her face and body, she got on her knees and crawled. When she tried to pull herself along the rope, she heard an object scrape on the ground. It took all her strength to move it. She heard strange noises, and tried to hold her breath so she could make sense of them, but her breaths just became shorter and faster. Then she gasped - someone was in pain. She heard muffled screams, as if coming from a covered mouth.

  Jen loosened her grip on the rope and tentatively crawled forward, praying she wouldn’t faint. She could see nothing. Then her hand hit a metal object. The rope had ended. She looked around her. What is it? The incessant, muffled groans filled her head. ‘Who is it?’ she screamed. The muffled noise grew more desperate. ‘Oh my God!’ she shrieked. It was a male voice, but she didn’t know where. He was thrashing around madly. Jen thrust her hands to her face and gasped. ‘Oh my God!’ she whispered. She’d pulled the object away. That’s why she couldn’t find him. Oh God! How stupid! He might die! ‘Where are you?’ she cried. She got to her feet and reached around her. Her arms hit trees. ‘Where are you?’ Mindlessly she staggered forwards, realising in terror that the struggling had ceased. And then she bumped into a leg dangling in the air…

  She dropped to her knees and then forced herself up again. Someone was being hanged from a branch. The knife! She reached up and touched his chest. She could go no higher. The canister! The canister! She turned, feeling almost numb, and swept the dirt with her hands. Inching forwards, the back of her hand connected with the metal. It had handles. She pulled at it. It was so heavy, but she managed to drag it backwards. Shaking and delirious, she didn’t think she could go on much longer. It was too much to take - she wasn’t special or superhuman. She wasn’t a heroine, she was an ordinary girl. She felt his leg tap her back and positioned the beer keg beneath him. She climbed onto it and felt his shoes scrape down her stomach. Carefully, she lifted the knife away from him.

  Her eyes closed when she felt his hair with her left hand. They were John-Paul’s thick curls. She quickly reached up for the rope that suspended him. She took hold of it, and with her other hand brought the knife towards it, pressing the blade with her fingers to check it was facing the right way. The serrated edge dug into her skin. She sliced at the rope, rocking her jelly-like elbow back and forth until he dropped onto her. As they both fell to the ground she kept the knife high above them, until his full weight crushed her and then she dropped it beside them.

  She heard his choking noises becoming weaker. She picked up the knife and then located the noose. It was digging into his neck so tightly that she could barely get her fingers under it. His fingers rested on top of it, after fruitlessly trying to pull it away. She felt for the rope at the back of his neck and then forced her palm underneath it, guiding the knife towards it with the tip held in her finger and thumb. Though unsteady, she succeeded in slipping the knife beneath the noose and turning it so that the blade dug into the rope and the back of it pressed against her palm. Carefully, she cut the rope. When it split in two, she opened it around his neck and then threw it away. Then she turned him onto his back, tilted his head back and removed the tape from his mouth.

  Gradually, his breaths became deeper and faster. She felt for his left leg, extended it, then bent his right knee and placed her hand on it. Taking his right arm, she bent his elbow so that his forearm covered his stomach, and then reached over and extended his left arm out to his side. Keeping his knee and forearm in place, she rolled him over onto his left side. Jen crawled up to his head, raised it, and then gently lowered the side of his face onto his outstretched arm. She felt his limbs and was satisfied that he was in the recovery position.

  His breathing steadily improved. When he tried to talk, she told him to concentrate on his breathing instead. Jen lay down beside him, listened to his respiration for a while, and then passed out…

  John-Paul pushed himself onto his back. Though his breathing was okay, his neck was in immense pain. He ran his fingers over the wound and felt a vicious band biting into his flesh. His calves ached considerably, so he pointed his toes as far back as he could and stretched the muscles. It was pitch black around the trees. Suddenly he feared for Jen. He felt for her and she was beside him. He shook her gently and called her name, aware then that his larynx had been damaged as his voice was high and squeaky. She started to rouse.

  ‘John-Paul!’ she screamed. ‘John-Paul!’

  He grabbed her arms. ‘It’s all right, Jen, darling. I’m here. I’m okay. You saved my life.’

  She wrapped her arms around him. ‘Oh, John-Paul, John-Paul! Thank God,’ she cried. ‘Thank God you’re okay!’ She sobbed on his shoulder. ‘I thought I’d lost you, honey… I thought you’d gone. What’s wrong with your voice? Are you in pain?’

  ‘It hurts, but I’ll be okay.’

  Surprisingly, he felt quite calm. If anything, he was less afraid of Zen. The slag had tried to kill him and had failed. He was here with Jen. They were together and alive, with a future to share. Zen had nothing but bitterness. His life revolved around Jen, this girl of John-Paul’s, who he wanted dead, but who wouldn’t die. ‘I’m here, darling, I’m yours and I’m not going anywhere. He failed… Don’t you see? We defied him again. He can’t win.’ He stroked her hair.

  ‘What are you talking about, John-Paul?’

  ‘It’s a sign,’ he told her, coughing repeatedly. ‘I was dying in these woods.’ He pointed to their surroundings, then realised how pointless it was and withdrew his hands. ‘I couldn’t loosen the knot, but using my fingers to pull the rope away, I could just about suck in air.’ He tapped his neck gently with his fingers. ‘I could just about touch the barrel with the tips of my toes, which helped support my weight. It was excruciatingly painful but vital to keep me alive. When the barrel was pulled away I must have come close to four minutes without oxygen - I was on the brink of death.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘And you saved me, Jen. You found me and pumped the life back into me. We cannot die.’

  Depleted again, she sighed. ‘John-Paul, you don’t understand. Zen gave me the rope and a knife. I followed it and found you. It got me thinking of the worst outcome. It got me thinking of loss. It put all the responsibility on me. Don’t you see?’ she said resignedly. ‘He achieved his goal. He got inside my head.’

  ‘At least I’m still alive,’ John-Paul said.

  She kissed him tenderly. ‘I know, John-Paul, but to save you I had to tell myself you were dead! I couldn’t bear the pressure of knowing your life was in my hands. I couldn’t handle it. It would’ve broken me…’ He squeezed her tight and rubbed her back. ‘I had to convince myself that it didn’t matter what I did,’ she continued, ‘because you were dead and no harm could be done. So I didn’t care! I saved a dead man. I was that pathetic that I couldn’t face reality! I thought you’d gone, John-Paul. I thought you’d left me!’

  ‘Jen, you were protecting yourself. It helped you stay in control.’ He kissed her.

  ‘What if I’d ignored him and walked on?’ she whispered. ‘What if I’d taken a cab?’

  21

  ‘I’ve seen Satan.’

  ‘You’re fucking joking!’ Ryan said.

  ‘No.’ Ginger shook his head. ‘I’m serious. He was in my bedroom.’

  ‘Jesus! What did he look like?’

  ‘Fucking ugly.’ Ginger puffed his joint. The vapour smothered a corner of Ryan’s ceiling. ‘The geezer’s black. Not like a Negro, but burnt black like charcoal.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Oh yeah. He’s ten feet tall, skinny but muscular.’ Ginger looked at Ryan. ‘You know what
I mean?’

  ‘You mean sort of slim but with tight muscles?’

  ‘Yeah, that sort of thing. But the muscles are big for his frame. Don’t get me wrong, he’s fucking skinny, but wiry. And the cunt’s head is fucking huge.’ Ginger made a big circle with his hands. ‘Like that, but not round or fat, it’s long and thin. Some of his teeth are missing and his eyes are sick.’ Ginger held Ryan’s gaze. ‘The sickest, most perverted eyes you could imagine.’

  ‘Horns?’

  ‘Oh yes. Pair of the fuckers. Quite big – about the same length as my hard cock.’ Ginger exhaled forcefully. ‘And that’s the worst part about him-’

  ‘What?’ Ryan asked eagerly.

  ‘His dick...’

  ‘You saw Satan’s dick?’

  Ginger nodded. ‘Didn’t ’ave a choice. It’s not like the cunt was wearing a pair of Calvin Klein’s.’ He took a long, deep drag of weed. ‘And he had a hard-on. And believe me, Ryan, it is the penis.’ He opened his hands a couple of feet. ‘This thing reaches his nipples, with a prominent bend too!’ Ginger shook his head. ‘His nuts are the size of footballs, no joke. Everything about the devil is out of proportion. Nothing’s symmetrical. You can’t guess nothing about him. All I could think of as I lay in my bed was all the gizz in them balls.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘What the fuck d’you think happened? I got the fuck out of there. The geezer was grinning at me like he wanted another set of brown wings. I mean, I’d fuck the crack of dawn if I could, but being bummed by a two-foot dick ain’t my scene.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, I understand.’ Ryan blew out air. ‘Fucking hell, Ginger, that’s an experience!’

  ‘Yeah, no shit. Not a pleasant one either.’ He threw the last piece of the joint in the bin.

  ‘Why d’you think he came to you?’

  Ginger shrugged. ‘Who fucking knows? Perhaps he likes my style.’

  ‘And he wanted to reward you by fucking you with his demon length?’

  ‘Yeah, you’ve got a point there, lad. Perhaps he fancies me.’

  Ryan laughed. ‘I don’t think you should take that as a compliment.’

  Ginger laughed too. ‘I ain’t nobody’s bitch. I don’t care if he is the bastard devil.’

  ‘He hasn’t appeared since?’

  ‘No, and I’d like to keep it that way. Anyway, enough about that cunt. Have you got news for me?’

  Ryan smiled. ‘Things are going well.’

  ‘You de-activate a mine?’ Ginger asked, excited.

  ‘Well, no, but I’m fucking close to a couple. I can feel it inside.’

  ‘A couple? You been overlapping?’

  ‘I must’ve been. I know I want to get things done. I want to relax. You know what I mean?’

  Ginger slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Of course I do. And once you get there, my valued friend, the world will be a better place.’

  ‘Oh I know that. That is a certainty,’ Ryan agreed, gazing at the flats through his window.

  ‘Soon you’ll be in your place, lad. You ’aven’t got long to wait till it feels right and peaceful. Then you’ll wake each day with no pressure and no burdens, because you fucked ’em all off.’

  Ryan sighed. ‘You can talk to me about that all day.’

  ‘Everything had a reason, Ryan. You were meant to suffer. You were meant to become perfect, flawless. Only you can make things happen.’ He squeezed Ryan’s shoulders. ‘Only you, my son, have the power. Everyone lives at your discretion.’

  ‘I know. I should have killed my mother.’

  Ginger smiled. ‘No, that could never have happened. You’re meant to be here now, cleaning up the world. Will couldn’t do your job. If you’d killed Karen, you’d be inside instead of him.’

  22

  Tash amused Jenny. The never-ending cleavage, the tight and ridiculously short skirt, and the piled-on make-up. Could it be that Geoff was making a point?

  She was glad he had a girlfriend. It would’ve been awkward if it was just her, Ben and Geoff out tonight.

  ‘You’re so cute,’ she told Jenny, touching her arm. Then she looked at Ben. ‘Now I know why you keep it in your pants.’

  Ben laughed, but Jenny felt a bit out of place. She saw Geoff winking at her. ‘Classy, isn’t she?’ he said.

  Tash grinned. ‘You don’t want classy, you want easy.’ She smiled at Jenny. ‘I can’t be classy like you; wish I could.’

  Jenny smiled back, not noticing sarcasm or bitchiness in the comment. ‘I’m not classy.’

  Tash nodded at Geoff. ‘Too classy for him!’ Then at Ben. ‘And him, come to think of it.’

  Ben held Jenny’s hand. ‘I need some class in my life.’

  They were in a ‘talking pub’. There was no juke-box but The Wrong ’Un was still crammed with people their own age, enticed by its cheap drinks. Jenny leant against the side of a quiz machine and sipped her drink. Tash had gone off to talk to other people she knew.

  ‘So are you still praying?’ Geoff asked Ben with a sneer.

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Closing your palms together and transmitting a message to Heaven?’ Geoff raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Yeah, that’s the way it works.’

  ‘I wish I was as special as you. I guess some of us are just born unique.’

  ‘Not unique, my friend. There’s no talent involved. You just need to have faith.’

  Geoff feigned a hopeful expression. ‘So all I have to do is believe that a supreme being suddenly appeared and created everything and then I can communicate with Him?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s that simple,’ Ben replied, unruffled. ‘A lot simpler than the alternatives.’

  ‘Hmm…’ Geoff wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Even though the Big Bang Theory is an accepted explanation?’

  Jenny loved to hear Ben’s voice and watch his gestures. He cocked his head slightly when concentrating on a point and it made her laugh.

  ‘Scientists are finding out new things all the time that contradict their earlier claims,’ Ben countered. ‘They just fit their theories around new discoveries. They can’t convince me of it, and they can’t explain how the universe was created.’

  ‘They will,’ Geoff replied. ‘And when they do, a lot of people, you included, are going to feel pretty stupid.’

  Ben smiled. ‘Whatever science purports to understand, and whatever evidence they throw in my face, I’ll still believe in God.’

  ‘Even though religions are proven lies? Your belief is based on circumstance – you happened to be raised in a community where Christianity is dominant. You could have been born into Buddhism and worshipped Buddha instead of God. And now because of how you’ve been indoctrinated, you’ve chosen Christianity and eliminated all the other religions. Just as Hindus and Muslims reject your belief, you do theirs. So who’s right, Ben? Whose followers have been deceived?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I accept that a lot of people have been misguided. But I didn’t blindly embrace Christianity. I analysed and tested it. I don’t believe in it all, I just believe in God.’

  ‘So your tests were successful then?’ Geoff asked cynically.

  Ben nodded.

  ‘So what did He do for you? Line up a first kiss?’

  ‘No.’ Ben glanced at Jenny, who was sipping her Bloody Mary through a straw. ‘I’ll tell you sometime.’

  ‘Okay,’ Geoff said, catching the hint. ‘But don’t you see how you were born into it? It’s like a fictional lottery.’ He laughed. ‘You win an interpretation of a lie. Congratulations, you fell for it.’

  ‘Well, even if I did, at least I’ve got hope. There’s purpose in everything. You’ve got fear.’

  ‘I’m not scared about anything.’

  ‘Yeah, but you will be when you’re old.’

  ‘I don’t think so. I’ll be content that I led a sensible, unrestricted and independent life.’

  They both laughed.

  Geoff moved his head in slow circles. ‘God created
the Earth and saw that it was good!’

  Jenny smiled.

  Ben returned the sarcasm. ‘Something has always existed to trigger an explosion of life. There is no such thing as a beginning.’ He grinned at Jenny. ‘We’re not boring you, are we?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, it’s funny.’

  ‘I’m still trying to convert Geoff. I think I’m nearly there.’

  Geoff stared at him. ‘You’ve got more chance of sticking your dick in my starfish.’

  Ben threw him an icy stare. ‘Watch what you’re saying.’ He turned to Jenny. ‘She isn’t Tash.’

  Jenny laughed. ‘Don’t be stupid, Ben. I’m not a little girl.’

  Geoff stared at them for a few seconds and then rested his pint on top of the games machine. ‘I’m going to the bog,’ he said.

  Ben sensed the discomfort. ‘I’ll go with you.’ He placed his beer beside Geoff’s and said they wouldn’t be a minute.

  Geoff waited till they were standing next to each other at the urinals before he spoke. ‘You’re a bit cunt-struck, aren’t you?’

  Ben spoke seriously. ‘This isn’t some tart. She’s the one for me, I’m convinced, and I’m fucking happy. It’s not a quick shag, it’s the real thing. So play the game, yeah?’

  ‘Fuck me, Ben. Are you sure about this? You’ve only seen her a few times. Don’t you think you’re being obsessive?’

  Ben shook his head. ‘No I don’t. We hit it off straight away. I believe fate drew us together and I’ve never felt that way before. As a mate I’d like you to understand that.’

  ‘Hold on a minute. I drew you together. She was my fucking bird!’

  ‘Well, that helped, but she was meant for me. I was always gonna find her.’

  Geoff laughed. ‘This is nuts. You need to relax, Ben, for fuck’s sake. If you’re that happy then chill out.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I don’t want it fucked up.’

  Geoff pulled his zip up. ‘Well it won’t be – it’s fate, remember?’ He winked.