Sarah lay crumpled by the beast, his large body pinned her to the ground. From her chest leaked a flow of crimson, her life draining from the injury. Russell shot forward and grabbed the shoulder of his father, he pulled with the remaining strength to free his sister. She lay motionless, a slight jump from her torso as the small heart fought to stay alive. He had killed her, the shard ripped through the flesh of the man’s neck and pierced her fragile body. The organ was ruptured and she gazed up through the window as the moon smiled down upon her. He had taken her…….he had ended his Little Red.
The van was stopped at his desired location. He sat one house down from his new girl, the park to his right offered a shield of trees and he lay in front of them; the engine rocking to a halt. He did the usual three hundred and sixty degree check, to ensure he was alone and not being watched. The upstairs was dark, a peek of light came from a room on the bottom floor. He set the timer on his watch, the digits displayed fifteen minutes exact. Outside the weather had worsened and light speckles of snow had begun to fall, they lay upon the windscreen; melting away upon contact as the glass still held the warmth from the interior. His mouth gave the odd sharp tingle as he inhaled, his teeth still sore from his self-modification. He rested his head and closed his eyes, the previous thoughts of his childhood haunting him.
He held her body for several hours, feeling the life escape her. He told their favourite story over and over, trying to keep her at ease. No tears were shed, no cry for comfort…..just the words that he spoke softly into her small ear. He gathered his belongings and spare clothing, the pockets of the beast held little money but he removed it without guilt. He turned before leaving the room, waiting to see if she would jump back to life…..she didn’t. He left the scene and headed in town, a collage of thoughts filled his mind. The bedsit was a known addicts hide away, the room was cheap and standards were less than adequate. He sat upon the stained mattress and considered his next move, unaffected by the loss of his father. Several days had passed and he came to the conclusion that he would stop by his uncles house, just on the outskirts of London. He would have questions to face but the answers he had planned. He left early one morning and headed for the nearest bus stop, the timetable offered the times to his location. He had waited for his bus to arrive, still feeling calm and un-fazed by the attack several days ago.
Two buses later he had arrived, prepping the story he would tell his uncle. The house was small but hidden, privacy was not an issue as the walls were surrounded by foliage. The doorbell played a tune as he pressed it, movement seen from behind the distorted glass. He was ushered inside by a concerned face. The story he had told from behind a warm glass of milk, the ears listening were amazed at the young boys story……but believed what they were told. For years Russell lived with his uncle Adrian, home schooling was issued and he welcomed the fresh education. He worked for little cash but enjoyed the sense of adulthood, his body became larger and was toned to a satisfying shape with the gym equipment he stored in the large shed. He would sit and remove the picture of Sarah, the birthday cake he had made her when their father was away drowning his many sorrows. He would wander of her looks now if she still lived, where she would be…..where he would be. No tears would fall, no whimpers of a feeble cry.
He had suffered from terrible dreams, not nightmares, he wasn’t scared of what his head showed him whilst he rested. He would see her body, drained and lifeless. He would see his father’s body, large and bloodied. He would hear the whispers from the unknown guest…..the panting from behind. The warm breathe brushed his cheek as the beast circled him, he felt no fear. The eyes appeared in the pitch black, large circles of glowing yellow; he would stare back keeping contact at all times. It would tell him things he had not heard, orders he had never received but excited him. He accustomed himself to the nights of a sweat ridden bed, the nose bleeds that came often. His uncle would say not to worry, it’s all part of growing up……but what he was growing up to be was a mystery he needed an answer for.
He gave in to the voice that beckoned him, calling his name with a pant. It ushered him through dark voiles and corridors with no end. The passages he wandered within his restless mind had led nowhere, he stalked the empty paths; the temperature lowering to a numbing state. Still he searched. When resting, he would enter the maze of his brain, walking the lonely isles as the inner guest would call. He remembered well, the night he stumbled across the door. In all his years of dreams he had found no rooms or doorways, now he stood; the voice calling from the other side. He opened the door, intrigued to find the happenings on the other side. The snow chilled his naked skin, he felt no shame in his natural appearance; his skin draining to a pale grey colour. The trees engulfed the black surrounding him, he walked on with no fear. The cracking of debris within the woods caught his eye. Something moved with him as he walked, staying level and keeping the pace. The carpet beneath crunched as he flattened it, his prints left a trail of his route. He stopped, so did the guest, and gazed above at the yellow tint that the moon offered, his eyes wide with ore.
You are becoming………you WILL become. He stood whilst the howl circled him, the beast ran to his side. He remained still as it leapt towards him, the claws ripping his flesh……still he stood, motionless.
You WILL become.
The barking from a nearby dog awoke him. He panicked, thinking he had lost his window of viewing. The digital reading on his watch displayed ten minutes forty three seconds remaining. His heart rate lowered and he adjusted his position, wiping his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He turned his head to face the house, the upstairs lights were brought to life and he watched as the man escorted his daughter up to her room. Through the binoculars he watched as Megan entered her room, her safe place, climbed upon the top of her wooden bunk bed. The room was dimly lit as her father extinguished the main light and turned on a smaller one, a book was balanced upon her open palms. He imagined himself reading her a story…….his favourite bed time tale. The show was ended by her curtains been fully closed. He felt annoyed, it had finished abruptly and several minutes still remained. He considered the state of his mind, his gums still throbbing, and decided to go home.
Good bye Megan……….sweeeeeet dreeeeeeams. He blew her a kiss as the engine was started, he drove away slowly. The headlights came to life as he turned the corner and was out of sight.
Chapter Fifteen
The coffee tasted old as Nathan sipped it, the heat singing his top lip. He licked it too help cool the burnt flesh. The usual hustle and bustle of the building surrounded him and he sat within the chair, the cup warming his hands. He thought about home, about his wife. He realised he hadn’t spoken to her for several days and that no images or memories of his safe place had sprung in his mind. He felt terrible, as if he were cheating on the woman he loves by not thinking of her. His heart ached and he grunted the small lump away from his throat. He got to his feet, his knees cracked with age, and moved towards the exit; his spare hand searched for the mobile phone Jack gave him.