Deadly Secrets. Part 34

Stressful few days there. I’ve been taking the meds as I’m supposed to, swelling has gone down and all that, but my throat was still all gross looking. So had to ring the doctor to make sure it wouldn’t come back/that was normal (No appointments today and as it’s Good Friday tomorrow, doctors office is closed.) Everything’s normal, but I spent a few hours worrying that my throat would spontaneously close or try to abscond from my body.
My mum also reminded me that Crohn’s can affect any where of the digestive tract, including the throat. So, thanks for that.

Actually, kind of sad I didn’t go to the shops yesterday, I quite enjoy it on the day before Good Friday. In Ireland you cannot buy alcohol from a club/bar/off license from midnight to midnight, so all clubs/bars close on Thursday at 12.00. So, everyone goes to the shop to get some booze in the house. Except everyone takes it to extremes. I’m talking filling an entire trolley with beer, wine and spirits. Ya know, just in case they decide to never sell alcohol again, ever. It’s quite amusing. There’s also a fair amount of house parties too.

I hope everyone has a good Easter Weekend and that they enjoy it!

On with the show!

—————————————————————————————

Part 1, Part 33

He could trust her, but that might not last. He’d need to cement her to him and there was only one way for that.

He drove through the streets at random, taking lefts and rights as the whim took him. He took his time,  he’d find what he was looking for. So many people seemed like good choices, but when he saw the target, he’d know. Normally he only hunted women, but not today, today everyone was a target. He didn’t know which one he’d be drawn to, but he knew it would be the right person for her. A woman seemed best to him, but a man might be useful too. He found himself near the shopping mall where he had followed her before. He was worried he would get the urge to leave the car, but he drove by it. He didn’t want to be in any places they had been together, even if he knew there was no way to connect him to her, it paid to be safe. He drove for almost four hours, stopping twice, once for petrol and once for a drink. He thought perhaps he found the person he was looking for when he pulled into the petrol station, but no one stood out. He walked by everyone to the drinks fridge, when he reached the register, he knew that it was not the place he’d find them.

He was considering going home when he saw her, about mid-forties, looking like she was trying too hard. Tight, revealing clothes exposed a flabby body, large breasts jutted from her chest, her lips looked swollen and the shade of red lipstick she chose made them look painful. Her makeup was laid on thick, all of the skin on show was a dark orange. He parked and followed her for a few steps, wondering if she had a husband, probably not by the way she was dressing, no kids either. They wouldn’t let her go out like that. He knew she was walking towards the apartment buildings up ahead, there was nowhere else she could be going. It was dusk and would be full dark in a few moments. He looked around, the road was empty. It was now. His cloth covered hand wrapped around her mouth, before she had time to react she sagged against him. He put the cloth back into his pocket and half carried, half dragged her to the car. He pushed her into the backseat, then got into the front of the car. His heart was pounding, this was stupid, so stupid, but there was no going back now. If someone saw him, they wouldn’t have gotten a good view at least and in this light the car could be any dark colour. He drove straight to the apartment, it wasn’t too far away, but it was a nerve wracking journey. Every time he stopped at a light he expected someone to see her in the back. She was sitting up and looked as though she was asleep. No one would look twice.

He brought her into the apartment, moving quickly and quietly. He wanted to get everything set up for her, it should be a surprise. He left her behind the kitchen counter, it might be a little tight, but he knew she wouldn’t be getting up soon.

He unlocked the door, knocked gently and opened it, she was sitting on the bed, reading. “Hi, I thought you might like to shower again.” She smiled, “yes, I would enjoy that.” He returned the smile as she stood. He guided her to the bathroom and scanned the room quickly, nothing had changed from the last time. Good. He closed the door and locked it, then he went to the linen cupboard. She would need to shower again, but the towels could be reused. He gathered some up, then took a pair of clothes from the bag he was keeping for her. He stacked them, then he unlocked the door and passed them through. Good, she’d be distracted for a little while.

He stripped the woman of her clothes and moved her into the chair, he strapped her down quickly, then brought the clothes outside. He’d dispose of them later. He went to the second bedroom and scanned it for any dangerous objects. He’d have to move her in here, if she did pass the test, she couldn’t sleep in that room. The room was basic enough, a bed and a small desk. He sometimes slept here when he was too tired to go anywhere else after his work. He went into her room and moved the books to the new one. While he waited he wondered if he should feed her before or after. Eventually, he decided that after would be better. She’d be less likely to throw up. The showered turned off, he remembered the fresh clothes he had given her. That was no good. He went to the door and knocked, she opened it slightly, her towel wrapped body hidden behind the door. “I’m sorry, but could you wear your old clothes for just a little longer?” She looked a little surprised, “sure.” He smiled, “good.” She passed the new ones through the door.

She dried and dressed quickly, worried the entire time. Why had he taken the new clothes away? He was planning something, but what? What if tonight was the night he was going to get rid of her. She would have to do something, maybe take him by surprise. He’d take her back to the room, she knew that much. Once there she could hit him and make a run for it. She knocked on the door and heard it unlock, then she stepped outside. He gestured for her to walk, she half expected him to grab onto her and guide her. She walked towards the room, her heart thudding, trying to muster up the nerve to attack him. She reached out and pushed the door open, feeling sick. When she saw what was on the other side, she started to shake.

He stepped inside after her. “I’ve brought you a gift.” She stared at the unconscious woman, unable to respond. “I’ll be back in a moment.” She went to the bed and sat down, barely able to breathe. He returned almost instantly and she realised she could have run, that it was a chance. Too late now. He had a gun. He unrolled a black cloth, inside was full of knives. Oh god. What was he going to do? “Now, I don’t expect you to be very good at this, but you’ll learn.” She felt her stomach drop. Not him, her. The woman started to stir slightly, she groaned.

He handed her the knife, actually handed it to her, she had a weapon, but before she could get to him, he’d be able to shoot her. The knife felt heavy in her hands. “Just a small cut, maybe on the leg, against the shin. Not too deep mind. Just so you can get a feel for things.” She breathed deeply, trying to settle her stomach. He had the gun on her, she had no choice. She leaned over slightly and tried to cut, dragging the knife lightly across the skin. She couldn’t do it. “It isn’t that hard.” He sounded slightly angry. She took another breath, then pushed down, the knife cutting into the woman. Blood welled around the cut as the woman’s eyes opened and she started to shriek.

She was shaking and covered in blood when it was finally over. When he finally allowed her to put down the knife, it slipped from her fingers, clattering against the floor. The woman had screamed so much. So loudly. She didn’t think someone could make those noises. She had only spoken once throughout the entire ordeal, to whisper she was sorry. She didn’t think he had heard. She wasn’t even sure if the woman had heard it. She had no choice. She had to. He lead her into the bathroom and turned on the shower, then he left again. There were fresh towels and clothes. When had he brought them? She stripped out of her clothes quickly, shivering as the cold, damp fabric scraped over her face. She got into the shower and started frantically scrubbing at herself, the water turning a light pink.

He was pleased with her progress, she had done quite well, after the first few cuts he didn’t have to direct her anymore. Sure it was sloppy, and the woman had died a bit quickly, but it wasn’t bad for her first time, not bad at all. He undid the straps in the chair, he’d have to dispose of the body, but that wouldn’t take long. He’d stay in the apartment tonight.

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About Alan James Keogh

I am a 24 year old writer who somehow tricked U.C.D. into giving me not only a degree in English and Classical studies, but an Hons Masters in Creative Writing too. Visit my blog where I post short stories twice a week (Monday and Wednesday) and an installment of a serialised novel on Fridays. I did consider writing this in the third person, as though it was written by someone else, but Alan is not comfortable writing in the third person as it seems kinda creepy and unbalanced so Alan decided it was probably best to write in the first person. He hopes it went well for him.
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