Author: Ian Woodhead
Date: 2017-01-30 08:00:00+00:00
Description: James is an upstanding member of the community. He is a History teacher and spends his free time running a soup kitchen, caring for the homeless. He is also a homicidal psychopath with a God complex. Suffering from a horrifying childhood rife with mommy issues and sexual deviancy, he believes that all prepubescent boys are inherently born evil. One captive at a time he takes it upon himself to purge that evil, utilising his many conditioning tools and devices, including photographic and video evidence of the child's murdered families. They are all rechristened as Franco and feeling guided and

SNATCHED

An extreme horror tale

By Ian Woodhead

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright revised edition, January 2017 by Ian Woodhead

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, scanning or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.

CHAPTER ONE

Such a wonderful sunset. Simply awe inspiring. The only thing that could have eclipsed the moment would be to witness a large flock of geese passing the slowly dying sun. Or perhaps the silhouette of Santa, with his poor beasts pulling his fat carcass past my window.

If I was in charge of the world, I would have killed the fat fuck and his band of venison legs years ago. Children don't deserve to have such a jolly elderly man bringing them presents every year. Don't get me wrong here, I know that a tiny minority of ankle biting bastards do reciprocate the enormous amount of wealth and emotional strain their parents lavish upon their small frames.

Most of them didn't deserve to exist.

I closed my eyes for a moment and massaged the top of my nose. It's been too much of a good day to allow such negative notions to pollute my relatively sanguine thoughts.

The sound of a floorboard creaking brought me back to the present. I smiled, was there anything which could eclipse such a wonderful sunset? The dying sun might signal the end of the day but it didn't signify the end of my waking session. I had another couple of hours to kill before I retired.

I turned from the bay window and walked across the polished wooden floor, making my way towards the large armchair which dominated the room. The floorboard creaked again. Despite the temptation, I kept my eyes fixed upon the wood. I usually examine the quality of the polishing to ensure Franco hasn't been slacking. Not that he ever did, the boy wasn't so stupid. Even so, appearances needed keeping, hence the time it took to reach my chair.

The floorboard creaked again. Now I know that the boy was only shifting his weight. After all, I had put Franco into that position two hours ago with orders not to move. It takes fifty minutes before the position creates intolerable agony in the leg muscles so he has done well to last this long.

It still annoyed the hell out of me though. In fact, the very thought of Franco creaking the floorboard on purpose began to eat at my mellowness. It could even be possible that the anticipation of Franco setting out to annoy me was the initial cause of my anger.

I reached my chair, plumped up my three purple cushions and sat down. It felt good to take the weight off my feet and I sighed in relief to signal this. Breaking the silence also signalled to my little helper that his current enduring uncomfortable situation was at an end.

Franco got to work on my late evening drink, a chilled single malt, while I considered how best to use what remained of today.

He padded over and stood in his allocated position, holding my drink in his left hand while he cupped his genitals with the other. No matter how many lessons I gave Franco, that particular habit refused to leave him. I honestly didn't think he knew he was doing it.

After ten months, I had given up trying.

I took the drink and took a small sip. I studied the shivering boy. The temperature in my library didn't often rise up three degrees, due to the placement of the single window, so it shouldn't surprise me to discover that the ten year old boy was cold. After all these months, he should have got used to the temperature by now.

All the others had.

It was yet another nagging barb which illuminated the painful fact that, yet again, I had failed to break another little boy. Still, I am the eternal optimist.

“Franco, place the glass back on the table then I want you to go into the pantry and fetch me the leather strap, a spoon and the tongs.”

To my utter surprise, Franco didn't even flinch, despite knowing full well what this command entailed. He just took my drink, placed where I had instructed and scooted away, heading over to the pantry.

Three weeks ago, after I had demonstrated their use on a rabbit, I used them on the boy. To this day, I still feel my loins tingling when I remember how his horrific screaming bounced off all four walls. With the rabbit, I gripped its ear with the tongs, then placed the spoon handle against the metal before loosely wrapping the strap around both tongs and handle.

Franco watched in fascination which turned to horror as I started to twist the handle. It didn't take much for the handle to take up the slack; even less time for the tongs to crush the rabbit's ear.

The boy actually started to cry when I removed my makeshift clamp and ordered Franco to hold out his left hand.

In the intervening times, Franco has lost his remaining little finger and one of his toes. I've also faked the procedure twice, just to keep him on the ball.

It is an essential part of the procedure to keep them guessing. It's impossible to break their spirit if they know what's coming. If you give them the luxury of knowing, it allows the time to prepare themselves for the agony, and we certainly can't have that.

I watched him return. That vacant look still hadn't left his face and yet, there was evidence that the boy's expression had changed whilst he'd been retrieving the items, a smile perhaps?

How can I possibly know if the boy had been smiling without me witnessing the gesture? Call it a hidden talent, one of many that I possess.

Franco obviously went through some kind of internal reassurance that that session would be another fake one.

It is a fair assessment, considering we both knew that if I did damage any more of his extremities, the boy would be unable to perform his duties.

This was yet one more evidence that my efforts to break the little bastard wasn't working, and just to cement the fear, my little ball of tightly bound anxieties wormed its way into my guts.

I did not need this. Not now. I honestly believed that I was making good progress with this current Franco. I was even beginning to grow fond of the boy.

Admittedly, it would disappoint me if this current Franco joined his eight predecessors, currently rotting in pits at the bottom of my back garden.

I had to give the boy one last chance to prove me wrong.

Generosity and good will were an intrinsic component of my personality. Many people within my social circle and at work have commented upon this so it must be true. Nevertheless, I dare not show weakness otherwise the boy would take advantage. It's what they did.

I left my chair, grabbed a magazine which I had hidden under my chair cushion. I rolled it up and held it behind my back before approaching the boy.

“You have done well today, Franco. You've performed your tasks without any mental resistance. I really do think you've made progress. So,” I smiled at him. “I'm going to allow you one reward.”

I did catch the indecision on his face but I let that pass. It wasn't a major crime as I did have a tendency to pepper the rewards with minor punishments.

“Franco. I will allow you to remove a photograph from your remembrance wall.” I followed the boy over to his safe space. This was a rectangular area of polished wooden floor in the corner of the room.

I had furnished him with a cat litter tray, a rough woollen blanket and a teddy bear. On the two walls above his space, were five colour photographs. The two tacked to the wall facing me were of his parents, Brenda and Tony Simpson. Pictures of his elder brother and sister as well as his best friend were on the adjoining wall.

While Franco took time in choosing which picture to remove, I stood behind the boy, silently admiring my handiwork. I must admit, that over the years, I've become rather inventive in displaying the final poses.

Tony Simpson, the thirty-four year old banker had, naively, followed me into the city park at five in the morning, when I asked him for directions to the local branch of the Eastern National bank. Of course, he knew where it was, as he worked there! I (obviously) knew this. I take time in researching my subjects. I went through the typical routine of exclaiming surprise before I slammed the syringe, hidden behind my back, into his left arm and pumped with enough ketamine to knock out a giraffe.

Dragging his unconscious form into my nearby car was the most dangerous part of the plan. I wasn't bothered about the street cameras, as I knew the location of every device, including the dummy boxes.  Passing pedestrians were my only concern. Even at that stupid time, there was always the slight danger of being seen. On this occasion, like all the other times, nobody saw me.

The instinct to judge when it's safe to snatch my subjects is another one of my hidden talents.

Tony was such a tiny man, hardly an outstanding example of the alpha male.

Franco was taking his time in choosing a picture. This began to annoy me. surely it wasn't such a difficult decision.

The pictures of his parents were side by side. I leant forward and whispered “Choose wisely” into his ear.

Tony died with his genitals stuffed into his mouth.

I do recall asking him, as I fastened his arms together with cable ties, how such a weedy little man was able to attract such a beautiful wife. His words were muffled behind the sock I'd stuffed into his mouth but from the tone, I knew they weren't complimentary. His reaction hurt me. None of them grasped the importance of my work. Just like all the others, I had already explained that I was going to transform his unruly boy into the perfect human being. To accomplish this momentous task, I was going to kill him first before defiling his body before moving onto the rest of his family. I deemed it important that they knew why I did this before I got to work on their flesh with my toolbox.

It was for their peace of mind as well as mine.

The mystery to how Tony had caught the doll soon became clear when I stripped him. The man's penis was simply enormous! It still didn't answer the question of if his wife knew of his special gift before he started fucking her. This was a question that I intended to ask the women once I had finished with Tony.

Each photograph showed a different pose. I like to show off my creativity. I removed Tony's head and placed the bloodied stump on his chest before I took the picture. Franco's loving mummy was missing her feet and hands. I had considered slicing off her large breasts but I had done this before on another and the end result really hadn't merited the effort. I left her to bleed out before tying all her severed limbs together, leaning her body against the wall with her stumps reaching for the sky before I took that snap.

Oh, I did ask her how she and Tony met before I took my junior hacksaw to her wrist. The story she told was so moving, it almost brought a tear to my eye. It's so nice to hear that romance isn't dead.

I raped his brother's corpse.

Jefferson, unlike daddy, wasn't a weed. The youth worked out so, I took no chances. Jefferson died in bed, drowning in his hot blood. I think he was the hardest one. Trying to move a body which weighs well over two hundred pounds through a dark house without waking his sister is as difficult as it sounds. In circumstances like this one, cutting the body into smaller parts was the logical outcome, but that would ruin the shot that I had in mind, so I had to struggle.

My mother always stated that hard work paid off.

In the case of Jefferson, the effort it took to get his body to the house really was worth the effort. Taking the shot wasn't too difficult. An extra strong condom, some lube, a tripod and a delay timer helped to create a photograph which caused Franco to lose his lunch at first sight.

Franco's hand reached for a photograph, which completely threw me off my thoughts. To make matters worse, the little bastard went and proved that my guts hadn't failed me. Franco reached for the picture of his mother. He carefully took it off the wall, turned it upside down then held out his hand.

It took a great deal of effort not to murder the boy where he stood. He even bowed his head, like I instructed. Right at that moment, I couldn't tell if the conditioning was having an effect or if the cunt was simply taking the piss.

Killing everyone he loved and taking the pictures is the essential first stage in their conditioning. It is why I spend the time and energy to make sure each picture emits the resonance designed to sever that emotional attachment.

If Franco had chosen his brother or daddy, then future events might have not had been so clear cut. I knew from extensive research that this one was a little mummy's boy. He totally doted on her. With him choosing that picture, Franco hadn't lost that bond, which, if you ask me, was a little selfish, considering the amount of time that I'd put into this subject.

Some people just don't care about the feelings of others.

I snatched the picture from his shaking fingers. “Fetch the tongs, the strap, and the spoon,” I growled. I actually expected the bastard to run, which only added to my confusion. Instead, he meekly did as I commanded.

“Lie on the floor and put the objects next to you.”

Again, he complied.

I offered him the best smile I could manage before taking out the rolled up magazine and gently placing it on his chest. “Like I said, Franco, you have done very well.” I took the picture and tore it in half. Defacing such a beautiful image broke my heart but, a promise is a promise. “There you go, Franco,” I said throwing the two pieces behind my back. “Now, as a further reward, I have given you some reading material. You may now look at it.”

I watched him unroll the magazine. His eyes bulged in their sockets when he realised that I'd just given a pornographic magazine. It wasn't the only thing on his body to bulge when he saw all that naked flesh. He might only be a child but like daddy, Franco was big in the downstairs department.

“I can't believe that you've turned out like all the others, you horrible, lying, little fucker!” I stood over him then dropped my full weight on his face. I snatched up the tongs, the spoon and the strap and did to his cock what I had done to his digits.

Looking back, I think my actions were superfluous as the boy passed out from lack of air even before the first turn. It made me feel better though.

It took me the rest of the night to calm down and to gather my thoughts. Just before I retired, I took one last look at his cooling corpse and swore that the next boy would be the one.

It's not like there wasn't plenty of suitable applicants at the school where I worked.

CHAPTER TWO

Before my mother died, the woman left three irrefutable truths which she considered gospel. I've spent my adult life in pursuit of destroying her three commandments.  She stated that all children are born evil, that Santa really did exist and that behind every good deed lies a hidden motive.

Despite the numerous setbacks, I'm still confident that I'll disprove her first truth.

Disproving her second truth has so far eluded me but just like the first one, one day, I will prove her wrong. The ultimate answer could hit me at any time. I receive inspiration and brainstorms all the time, I'm lucky like that. They hit me like bolts of lightning. Which is ironic, considering that is exactly what I want to happen to the guy standing next to me.

Apart from teaching history at the local academy, proving to my dead mother that not all children are vomited out of Satan's arse, I also help out in one of the city's many soup kitchens. I do this because I believe it's important that every citizen should do their utmost to help those in dire situations. I know that it's basic human nature to only want to look after those closest to you but I really do believe that this need should extend beyond the immediate family. Of course, this idea does fight against the human tribal instinct which is built into our very DNA.

It pains me to say this, but as each day passes, the more convinced I am that I'm the first species in the next human evolution. This is no idle boast, as I'm sure that any lesser man would have pushed the cook's knife I'm holding into the side of Bennie's Archer's neck by now.

This pathetic excuse for a human was explaining, in his patronising way, that the city's homeless would not be such a problem if the authorities would allow their charity to take over the many derelict buildings that have been sitting empty for the past few years.

He seemed to be totally oblivious to how uncomfortable he was making the third person in the room. Just like Bennie had forgotten that the idea he was spouting was something that I had raised with the committee last March. Unlike this idiot, I had an excellent memory.

Bethany nodded and expressed concern in all the right places but it was all a charade. I almost expected the young woman to roll her eyes at any moment. I am excellent at reading other people's gestures and body language and right now, the woman desperately wanted this man to leave her alone, possibly to go and play on a busy road.

Watching Bennie hitting on a woman who was by far in a different class to him didn't send me into a homicidal rage. What triggered the urge to turn the fucker's head into a mass of crimson jelly was that he had turned into the living embodiment of my mother's third rule.

Everybody knew that the only reason the man was here in the first place was he fancied Bethany. There were occasions when I did wonder if one day I might slip up and accidentally bludgeon the man with a table leg. Still, it did give me some pleasure to know that I could have taken Bethany at any time.

Unlike Bennie, I am not socially awkward, I bathe every day and I do not dress like one of the many homeless who we serve on a daily basis. I have never been able to understand his apparent inability to dress well it's not as if the man was short of money. Bennie had a senior position in an investment company. The man probably earned more money than Bethany and me put together I also knew he dressed well for work so I couldn't understand the desire to dress like some dirty fucking hobo in his time off.

I waited for Bennie to leave the common room before joining Bethany in a joint sigh. It was almost time to leave and as the nominated key holder this week, it was Bennie's responsibility to ensure the building was empty before we left and set the alarm.

“I'm sure you mentioned the idea about the houses ages ago.”

I nodded and shrugged. “Yeah well, he seemed so enthusiastic about the notion, it seemed impolite to interrupt him.”

She giggled. “What are you like? Look, er do you fancy a quick coffee before he comes back?”

Her hand strayed towards Bennie's sacred jar of slow roast Nicaraguan coffee. The one that only he was allowed to use.

“Go on then,” I replied. It was our guilty little secret. Poor Bennie would probably have heart failure if he knew the real reason for his disappearing coffee.  Both Bethany and I told him that it was probably evaporating.

At thirty-two years old, the woman was reaching the age where people were noticing that she wasn't married or had kids. Considering what I knew about children, I was quietly proud of her decision to wait, although, I did wonder myself why this was the case. I had looked into her background, checked up on her family history and found nothing to suggest a past trauma, like an abusive father or perhaps a sex crime visited upon her body.

It might be just something as simple as wanting to ensure her career was established before committing herself to marriage and raising a family. This did seem to be becoming the norm for work orientated girls like Bethany. Still, this didn't explain the lack of a boyfriend. I've known her for almost three years now and in that time, she's not had a single lover, male or female.

Bethany is a beautiful creature. From the recordings I made of her in her bedroom and bathroom, I can confirm that her body is firm and shapely. She would be a worthy prize.

It isn't just that creep, Bennie who lusts after her. Many of the homeless men, the ones who are coherent, have shown interest. I'll admit that it is rather disgusting to watch their thick saliva dribble down their unshaven chins whilst gawking at Bethany's chest. I know that it drives Bennie insane with rage. He's transformed himself into the over-protective grandmother on many occasions when their lewd comments became a little close to the bone. I myself have no real issue over their attitude towards the woman. They really are no better than animals, who don't know any better.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

I look up to find her holding out a cup. “Sorry,” I said, taking the coffee from her. “I was miles away again.”

Bethany sat next to me. The delicate scent of spiced apple body scrub fills my nose. It's been three weeks since she changed from frosted berries. I preferred that one. Her hand rested on my thigh. I hid my smile. Bennie would have cum in his pants at about this time.

“Come on, James. What's on your mind, perhaps I can help?”

My mother would have hated Bethany. She proves that her third law is inconsistent. This is one of the reasons why I've spent so much time in researching her history. It doesn't take a genius to see that Bennie and Bethany are poles apart. Whereas Bennie is a simple creature, not that far removed from the homeless we look after, this beautiful creature has so many hidden depths, perhaps as many as I have?

“It's nothing, Beth,” I answered. “I'm just a little concerned over next Monday.”

“Oh yeah, I'd forgotten about that.”

Every Sunday, we receive a bumper shipment of leftover food from three of the large supermarkets in the area. This means that when we open our doors Monday night, once our volunteer cooks have prepared the food, there's usually a rush for the next few hours. There are times when some of the more excitable of guests can become a little rowdy. I'm usually here to ensure that trouble is dealt with quickly and without fuss. Unfortunately, due to exam workload, I won't be able to get here until late. I can't rely on Bennie to handle them. He couldn't scare the skin off a rice pudding.

“I haven't and I'm not too sure how we're going to find cover for me. I can't leave the running of the place in Bennie's charge.” I sighed. “I don't mean to sound harsh but he's not exactly a person who excels at confrontation.”

“You mean he's a big, soft idiot?”

I tried not to choke on my coffee.

“Sorry,” she said, laughing.

I drained the remaining coffee to avoid a repeat. “No harm done. Bethany, I'll ask a couple of the cooks to stay back, even if it's only for one hour.”

“Thank you.” She jerked her head towards the closed door. “Mr Universe returns.”

If it wasn't for my determination to disprove my mother's first rule, I might have considered taking this woman as a partner. It would be an exciting moment for Bethany as I'm sure that she thinks that I'm her perfect opposite. Sadly, her dream of sharing my life is incompatible with my work.

Nobody can be allowed to know about my work. That stays secret until I finally succeed. As a teacher of history, I know full well that great men in times past have fallen due to lesser men stealing their ideas and claiming them as their own.

As I wash out our cups I cringe at Bennie's attempts to initiate yet another pathetic vocal seduction. I had to admire his persistence. The man just doesn't know when to give up. I ask myself if Bethany hasn't cast aside her dreams of a family for her career. Perhaps she was simply waiting for the right man. If that was indeed the case, then no wonder she was still single if she hung around with the likes of the homeless and people like Bennie.

“Okay doke, the building is all squeaky clean and ready to go to sleep,” said Bennie. “Are you guys ready to leave?”

I left our two cups on the drainer, beside the sink and followed the other two out into the main room. While watching Bethany walk over to her car, I attempted to calculate the odds of completing my mission before another man swept her off her feet. I paused. Perhaps the variables in that equation were a little one sided considering that after thirty-two years of existence, she was still unattached. It certainly wasn't going to take me that amount of time.

I listened to Bennie lock the door while watching the woman's light-green hatchback pull out into the busy road. I could set myself a target of one year. I am practical as well as optimistic so that did sound achievable.

It took me five months to locate the last Franco, two months to dispose of his family and a further eight months to reach the point where he was almost cleansed of his evil spirit. I have doubts that Bethany will find someone within that time.

If that did happen, the man would simply become more fertilizer. It could create a degree of uneasiness within our relationship, as I'm not sure that Bethany would be too happy about me murdering one of her ex-boyfriends, no matter how many hugs I gave her. Of course, in time, the woman would realise the error of her ways and come around to my point of view but that could take weeks, even months. Let's just hope that it didn't come to that.

“James. Do you have a moment?”

“Sure, buddy. What's up?”

He looked at me, the harsh white street-light above his head picking out the flakes of dandruff clinging to his shock of unruly black curly hair. Judging from the timorous expression, I suspected that Bennie was about to ask me for some kind of personal favour.  If it had anything to do with tips on getting closer to Bethany, I might have to hurt him.

“It's about our Janet's boy, James.

“That's your sister?”

He nodded. Strange. I knew he had two older sisters, Janet and Jane, but I had no idea that Janet had any kids. I wonder how I missed that?

“Yeah, well.  A couple of older boys are giving him a bit of a hard time and...” He coughed. “Sorry, he's called Donnie. Donnie Appleby. Well, I'm kinda wondering if you might be able to look into it?”

Was this a sign? I have had the fortune of experiencing divine predestination before but never so obvious. Could it be that my next Franco has just been delivered into my hands? This was so exciting. “How old is your nephew?” My mouth had dried up, and I think I detected a tremor in my voice. It's unlikely that Bennie would have noticed that.

“He's just turned twelve. Donnie is a good kid, his grades are excellent, and he's very well behaved. Granted, he's not got too many friends and he generally keeps to himself but that's only natural, I was just like that. Well...”

“Hmm, He must be one of the new boys in year three. That will be why the name isn't familiar. Do you know the names of the older boys who are bullying him?”

He shook his head. “I think Donnie knows but he won't tell on them.” he shrugged. “You know what kids are like.”

“Well, I'm sure I can found out. Tell your sister not to worry about it. I'll try to get to the bottom of this. Don't you worry.”

He was the right age too. This surely was synchronicity. The only downside that I could see was my connection to Bennie.  Still, I know I could find a workaround. I have a high intelligence quota and I excel at thinking on my feet.

It's one of my hidden talents.

CHAPTER THREE

How could I have possibly made such a monumental error? These emotions rushing through my wet body felt so alien. I am shivering, and it isn't due to the torrential rain. I wipe the water from my face and gaze into the night sky. The light from the full moon illuminates the edges of the branches. I know that if I take two steps back, I'll see the globe in all its glory. I dare not for fear that I'll see it laughing, finding joy at my expense.

Making me question my convictions.

I turn around, press my back against the rough bark and force in a couple of lungfuls of the cold air. “I've been drugged, it's the only explanation.” As soon as those soft words fall from my lips I know that it is the only thing that makes sense. Something that I've eaten perhaps, or a gas that I've inadvertently breathed in.

If that was indeed the case, it still doesn't explain why I didn't thoroughly check the house before I got to work.  I force my body away from the large tree and gaze up at the moon, daring it to laugh at me. If there were drugs still in my body, their malevolent efforts were obviously wearing off. Unlike a few moments ago, I felt the moon's light bathe my body, invigorating me. This new surge of energy pushed away the self-doubt and replaced my inner anguish with a new sense of purpose as well as renewing my determination to seek out the young boy who rudely disturbed me while I was halfway through my work and to end the bitch.

It had been over a week since Bennie had inadvertently dropped my next Franco into my lap. School work and clearing away all trace of the failed Franco had eaten away most of my time. I hadn't been idle in researching for the next project.

I caught sight of Donnie the next morning and as soon as our eyes met, I felt an immediate connection. It honestly felt as though a surge of electricity shot down my spine. I stood in the middle of the crowded corridor, fixed to the spot, oblivious to the ocean of kids streaming past me. It seemed like I hadn't moved for hours when in fact only a couple of seconds had gone by.

I quickly regained my composure and offered the boy a slight smile which he responded by turning bright red before fixing his eyes to the polished floor and rushing past me. Had I indeed found the one?

Donnie was a small boy. He moved like a neglected mongrel dog, flinching whenever someone passed close by. With his shoulder length blonde hair, bright blue eyes and slender frame, it was clear that, in a few years time, once the hormones kicked in, every girl within a few mile radius would be after a piece of the boy. Right now though, Donnie was prime bullying material. The poor bastard would attract them like iron filings to a magnet.

It took exactly one hour to discover the names of the boys who were tormenting Donnie. Of course, I didn't intervene. Compared to the cyclone which was about to take apart his little world, a couple of slap from a couple of boys older than him would feel like paradise to Donnie.

On a more serious point, I had no wish to create any obvious links between me and the boy. As far as I was aware, only Bennie and perhaps Donnie 's mother could link me to the boy. They did not matter, for soon their tiny wet pieces would be feeding my award-winning vegetables.

The process of selecting the ones closest to Donnie wasn't exactly difficult. Bennie had been on the ball regarding the boy's social standing, meaning I just had to target his immediate family. His mother, father, and of course Bennie.

I would be saving him for last.

Donnie's parents lived apart. The boy had elected to stay with his mother. When I first heard this, it did cast doubt upon his suitability. I had no wish to attempt to break another boy with mummy issues. In retrospect, I think the choice was simply due to his age plus his father worked away a lot.

Leaving a young child alone in the house was irresponsible.

It made sense to kill the man first. It was an easy job. One which carried little risk. He lived in a secluded cottage, and hadn't bothered installing a security system. Despite this, I knew that Donnie's mother would be the first one to taste my knife collection.

Donnie and his mother lived about four miles from me, in one of the more desirable areas of the city. A suburb which, unlike Donnie's daddy, wasn't prone to visits from the undesirable elements living closer to the centre.  House alarms came as standard and so did the sometimes unwelcome presence of the neighbourhood watch. In circumstances similar to these in the past, I have been cautious to the point of paranoia. Unlike street cameras,  the habits of middle-aged women staring through their net curtains were harder to predict.

In this instance, I chose to ignore my usual cautious approach and head straight for the front door, confident that after practically handing me the perfect subject, providence would not suddenly kick me in the face, in the shape of some nosy old bitch who had way too much time on her hands.

Today was Thursday. At exactly twelve minutes past eight, I pushed open the family's front gate and calmly walked up the path. I even considered humming some banal tune before I let myself into the house.

I was that confident.

Donnie wouldn't be home. On a Thursday, his mother drove the boy to the Westside community centre, a couple of miles away in order to partake in his hobby of wargaming. Donnie had not followed the trend of vegetating in front of a computer monitor or computer screen for hours. I found this to be most refreshing, and, I don't mind saying, a little exciting.

Due to the advancement of technology, coupled with the steady disintegration of our western moral standards, the modern child has access to a level of violence which could quite possibly unhinged the minds of children of earlier generations.

To admit to myself that perhaps, forcing the Francos to confront their murdered friends and family by using pictures may have been wrong is a difficult pill to swallow. Oh, the concept of using them to help sever the emotional bond was spot on, I now believe that I didn't go far enough.

The hedonistic attitude which infects our society had rendered my initial technique ineffective. Of course, my short-sighted approach has disappointed me but there's nothing I can do about this. I look to the future not dwell on the past. My only concern is that if Bennie hadn't opened his mouth when he did, there would have been a good chance that my next Franco would have failed simply because of this reason.

It's obvious that Donnie is a delicate flower, obviously not a member of the pack. Not a boy who views violence with the same casual manner as the other boys in school

I grin to myself, trying not to shiver in delightful expectation of traumatising little Donnie.

They lived in a typical three-bedroomed semi-detached house with a large back garden and a medium sized front garden. Donnie's mother was a talented gardener. I admired her African Violets and Azaleas while I walked up to the front door.

It's good to see she enjoyed spending time in the garden. So many people nowadays don't bother trying to grow anything, preferring to pave or tarmac the area. It's such a waste.

With help from a couple of online estate agents, I already knew the interior layout. The window to the left showed a darkened kitchen while the large bay window looked into the living room.  I smiled to myself. Even from this angle, I could see that the woman was chilling out in front of the television. She sure did enjoy her soaps. She posted on her social media page that she was looking forward to wine and Eastenders tonight. Donnie's father was picking him up, later on, to stay at his place over the weekend. She was going shopping in the morning. There was a fantastic pair of red heels that caught her eye earlier today.

I can't understand why some people feel the need to share their private lives with complete strangers. They only participate in this bizarre action behind the illusionary safety of a keyboard, solid or virtual.

As I suspected, she hadn't locked the front door so I silently let myself in. I creep into the kitchen and silently place my leather satchel on the leather chair. I listened to the woman pour herself a glass of wine while I busied myself setting up my equipment.

It didn't take too long to prepare everything. For the first time since embarking on my quest, I didn't bring the animal tranquillizer. There would be no quick kill followed by a single pose for Donnie's mother. I also upgraded the hardware so I could film the event. As I mentioned earlier, there is no point in dwelling on the past.

Once I was satisfied that everything was just right, I spun the dial on her microwave, set it for exactly one minute before pushing the power button. While the glass turntable was rotating, I took up position behind the door. In the seconds remaining, I took stock of exactly how privileged this woman should feel in playing her part in helping me cure her boy of the evil which infected every cell in his body.

The microwave pinged and a moment later, I heard her low the TV volume. A soft creaking informed me that she had just stood up. I had to congratulate myself on my clever ruse as she padded into the kitchen. She had absolutely no idea that somebody had violated her safe space. Even as the woman walked past my form, hidden in the shadows, the woman still believed she was alone in the house.

I waited until her stomach touched the counter top before I slid out from behind the door. I grabbed the back of her hair, wrenched back her head and pressed the edge of the woman's steak knife against her throat.

“Make a sound, bitch, I'll kill you,” I snarled. “If you struggle, I will fuck you with this blade before eating your eyes.”

Four quiet moans escaped her mouth. Judging from the damp patch spreading down her thighs, I think she had just pissed herself. The moans didn't really count as making sounds. They were just reflex noises. I've done this enough times to recognise how this particular type of person is going to behave. Even so, to ensure that she didn't do anything irrational, I needed to add in the carrot and the stick.

“If you cooperate, I'll be out of your life in minutes. If you try to make things difficult, then your Donnie is going to taste my knife.”

Another quiet moan let her mouth. I took that as an affirmative that she understood the threat. “Good, now open your mouth.” This instruction took a couple of seconds to sink in, but a sharp reminder from the knife persuaded her to comply. “If you behave, I promise that I won't hurt you.” I pushed one of her socks into her open mouth and wrapped parcel tape around her head. “This is just to make sure you don't make a noise. It's nothing to worry about. Now, I want you to sit down on that dining chair, Janet.” She flinched when I called the woman by her name.

The woman flinched again when I turned on the kitchen light and Janet found herself staring into the lens of my video camera. Her expression of terror moved up a couple more notches when it must have dawned on her that what I had planned for the woman was not going to take 'a few minutes'

Due to the nature of my work, the obvious fact that some elements of our society would likely frown at the length I go to disprove my mother's first law, I set myself a point of no return with each Franco procedure. A line is drawn in the sand where, if passed, there is no turning back. This is useful if circumstances dictate that I need to back off before I find myself on the slippery slope which would lead to finding myself in the clutching embrace of her corpse.

In this instance, it wasn't when Bennie announced that he even had a nephew, nor was it when I broke into Janet's house. No, the point of no return occurred after I had secured the bitch to that chair and used my scalpel to slice off both her eyelids.

I rested the heel of my palm upon her forehead, whispered that this might sting. She did tremble at that moment. I had anticipated that. The skin is elastic, so it wasn't too much of a problem. If I had explained exactly what I was about to do, poor Janet would have shaken that pretty head harder than a wet dog trying to dry off.  I gripped her eyelash, still reassuring Janet that I will be out of here even before the end credits of Eastenders started showing.

It literally took two seconds to stretch the skin before sliding the tip of the blade across the top of the thin fold. I cut off her other eyelid without hesitation, while her body was still going into shock. My only regret was having to gag her before I started.

I would have enjoyed listening to her screams.

The sock hadn't exactly stopped the noise, it only muffled the woman's shrieking.  Before I retreated to the kitchen, I pulled her head back, ensuring that she'd stay by tying her hair to the top bar on the back of the chair. I left her to make her strange noises whilst searching for my next two ingredients essential to this procedure.

Before reaching the food cupboard, I took a swift glance out of the kitchen window. At the far end of the garden, I saw a couple of rows of cabbages and two rows of cauliflowers.  This woman really was a woman of many talents. Donnie should be proud of having a mother who knew the value of self-sufficiency.

From this perspective, it appeared that she had re-planted them a little too close. She should have placed them a little farther apart, at least another inch. I didn't mention this to her as I didn't want to hurt her feelings, also, I suspect that Janet had other problems to deal with right now.

Opening the cupboard made me gasp out in happy surprise. There were so many items in here to choose from! I did notice she bought three types of breakfast cereal, judging from the colourful cartoon images on the sides, she had bought them for Donnie. She spoiled him. Again, I stayed silent, not bothering to explain that once Donnie was under my house, his life would not be so luxurious.

It annoyed me that I would have to edit out my voice from the beginning already. I told Janet that I wouldn't hurt her. When I sit Donnie down to watch this, it really is important that he believes that I don't lie. Oh, he will soon understand that this is not the case, but not at the beginning, when I will be reshaping the boy's emotional centre.

It's important to create the right first impression.

I found the ideal ingredients from her well-stocked cupboard and took them over to Janet. I looked directly at the camera, then winked and gave the lens a boyish grin.

I am very photogenic.

I poured table salt into her left eye and hot pepper sauce into the other eye.

To say that Janet's body reacted badly was an understatement.  I had to take a step back, it looked like she was trying to fight an invisible demon possessing her body.  I hurried over to the camera and moved the tripod back a couple of inches, just in case she did manage to loosen her bonds. I didn't want her to knock over my camera.

This was the moment when I noticed a shadow which should not have been there. I jerked back my head and saw a young boy, halfway down the stairs, looking in utter horror at what I had done to Janet. Unlike the woman, this one didn't freeze with fear. Oh no, the little bastard literally flew down the rest of the stairs, he pulled open the door and was running down the street before I could stop him.

It has been forty-five minutes since I left Janet in pursuit of this unexpected intruder. He had led me a merry chase, taking me all around the more desolate area of the city. Right now, I am inside an abandoned brick yard.

I know exactly where he is. The boy has taken refuge inside the large chimney on the other side of the yard. From there, he can see this yard, the main road as well as the old furnaces to the left of me. I know this because I used to play in here when I was his age. It is an ideal place to hide.

It never dawns on some kids that adults used to be their age as well.

I don't bother attempting to sneak up on him, as I know that there is nowhere else he can go now. He had trapped himself.  If he ran from the only exit in his little hiding place the boy would end up directly into my arms.  It takes me moments to reach the base of the chimney. I pause for a moment, letting him believe that I have walked past.

While waiting for him to emerge, I take out a bunch of industrial cable ties and Janet's house keys. Even when it appeared that control of the situation had been snatched from my grip, I still maintained enough calm to snatch the woman's house keys from the coat hook beside the door and lock up before running after the boy.

My camera equipment cost me a lot of money. I'm not having some low-life thief helping themselves to my gear while I was out chasing down this little bastard.

The rotting door began to open. I waited until his grubby fingers curled over the top of the wood before grabbing his arm. He struggled like a caught fish and just as slippery. A hard punch to the face soon put a stop to that. I dropped to my knees and secured his wrists and ankles with the cable ties. I had nothing to gag his mouth so I slammed my fist into his jaw. The force of the blow dislocated the bone, ensuring that this little bastard wasn't going to be screaming out for help.

“You should have run home, you stupid little cunt,” I snarled.

I stood up. He wouldn't have run home, for providence was still on my side, although I suspect that he might have done this if I hadn't locked Janet's front door. She does not forgive sloppiness.

“I'll be back for you, soon.” I pushed the door back in and set off, eager to finish my job with the woman. I had so much to do tonight before I retired, and thanks to that unscheduled intervention, it could be three in the morning before I climbed into my bed.

CHAPTER FOUR

On my journey back to Janet's house, self-doubt spread through my psyche like a malignant tumour. It pains me to admit this but I allowed this to happen. Even knowing that the forces which protect me have never let me down or would allow an outside variant to undermine my efforts to seek the truth, I still found myself blaming the mistake upon my carelessness.

In retrospect, I should have flushed this self-doubt away before it could further infect me. I did not. Consequently, as I hurried through the dark streets, with the torrential rain soaking me, this muddy thinking continued to plague me. For the second time since she died, I found myself teetering on the edge of an abyss, my usually ordered thoughts refusing to rise whence they hid.

The sense of approaching oblivion took control of my body and I bathed in its glory. It felt so refreshing to know that in moments I would be free, that the questions which cursed my daily life would no longer matter.

Even now, I have no idea what possessed me to open my eyes, perhaps providence was indeed looking after me. Perhaps she did forgive my one instance of sloppiness, as long as I learned from my stupid mistake.

The abyss was the kerb and oblivion turned out to be a cement mixer racing towards me at fifty miles per hour. I jumped back and fell against a shop shutter. A torrent of cold, muddy water smacked into the face and front when the speeding vehicle raced past me.

I stared at those diminishing red tail lights, unable to move. The opening movement of Carmina Burana played in an endless loop in my head. I may have stayed like that until the morning if it hadn't been for some stray dog who just happened to walk up to me and raise its hind leg. The cantana burst like a blood-filled balloon. I screamed then booted with such force that the animal ended up in the middle of the road. It managed to scramble out of the path of a passing bus.

My malaise had gone, like it had never been there in the first place. I watched faces of young boys pressed against the bus's windows. They all stared at me. Right at that moment, I knew. I just knew that each and every one of those little fuckers had wanted that doggy to go under the wheels of that bus. I was like I had somehow tapped into their wavelength.

I'm not ashamed to say that the experience scared the shit out of me. It also filled my soul with terror. My mother was right about them. All boys were evil, and this proved it. Even with the surety of knowing her first law was true, it didn't stop me from continuing my work. If anything, it made me more determined to exorcise this evil from them.

This was no longer about proving her wrong. I owed it to saving humanity.

It took another ten minutes to reach the front of Janet's house. Ten minutes of hurrying through dark, empty streets, furiously thinking about the unexpected discovery of that boy whilst instinctively avoiding the few pedestrians and staying away from any street cameras.

I pushed the key into the lock and turned it. I saw three possibilities to explain the boy's sudden appearance. Janet had taken a young lover. He was a neighbour who had popped around to borrow a cup of sugar or something. He was one of Janet's nephews who come to stay while Donnie was at daddy's house for the weekend.

My money was on the last option although I hoped that my first guess applied. In all honesty, it seemed unlikely that he was a neighbour as, whoever had sent him out should be knocking on Janet's door, wondering where he was.

I wouldn't know for sure until I searched the house so I let it pass. Before pushing down the handle, I took a moment to turn around and scan the area. The rain had stopped now, the wetness gave everything a varnished appearance. It really was quite beautiful.

The streets were devoid of activity, there were no vehicles or any sign of people. It felt like I was the last man on earth. I won't lie. It felt rather pleasant. Providence had done this. It had created the perfect environment to ensure that I could finish my tasks without fear of being seen.

This was obvious a reward for not ending up under the wheels of that truck. I turned to face the door and silently thanked her before I pushed the door open.

The stench of human excrement slammed into me as soon as I walked into the hallway. I had to hold my breath while shutting the door.Breathing through my mouth, I walked into the dining room. I shouldn't have been that surprised to discover the woman had fouled herself. I walked past the camera and leant across.

Unidentifiable thick yellow fluid dribbled down her cheeks. The weird sludgy fluid had dripped off her face and landed on the carpet close to one of the chair legs. There was blood mixed into the fluid. This annoyed the hell out of me as blood is a bastard to remove from carpeting.

I should have put a down a plastic sheeting before starting.

That uneasiness began to show itself. The feeling increased when I realised that I had neglected to stop the video before chasing after that boy. I now had almost one hour of useless footage. Janet released a quiet moan. It was probably the most depressing noise that I had ever heard. Had she been making that noise while I was away?

I found myself breaking into a grin at the thought of making Donnie sit through the torture before making him watch his mother slowly die for a full hour. He could have inadvertently just created the ultimate conditioning device.

“The sheer tenacity you have demonstrated in staying alive is absolutely astounding, Janet,” I said, a little too loudly. “I am really impressed with you.” I untied her hair and lifted her head up, while gently stroking her hair. Thanks to her fouling herself, the next procedure would prove difficult but not impossible.

It just meant that I wouldn't be able to use my large metal hook.

I grabbed my bag and pulled out my remaining tools, leaving the hook where it was. I had a large, thick, clear plastic bag, a length of rope and more cable ties.

Janet turned around when I rattled the bag but as her eyes no longer functioned, she had no idea what I had in store for her. I picked up my equipment and approached the woman. “I'll soon be out of here, Janet. Don't worry. It's nearly over.”

I cut the bonds around her wrists and ankles, stood her up and turned the chair ninety degrees. She really did smell bad. My eyes were watering. I began to think that Janet had fouled herself on purpose, just to spite me.

It wouldn't do her any good. No matter the obstacle, I can always find a suitable solution. It's one of my many hidden talents. It then dawned on me that my improvised plan of bending her over the chair just wouldn't be effective. This did not overly concern me as I then had a brainwave. I couldn't help but smile at my genius.

“A keen gardener like you is bound to have a hosepipe.” I dragged the woman over to the back door, pushed back the two bolts and opened the door. The rain had started again but even I knew that this alone wouldn't be enough to clean her.

Before I killed and dissected Janet, first, I had to bleed her. An average adult human body contains about sixty percent liquid. I did not want to get any of that sprayed over the floral wallpaper or staining the carpeting.

It took me a few minutes to find the hose, to connect it to the cold tap and to figure out the nozzle settings. I used my scalpel to slice off the clothing that wasn't covered in wet shit before I let her have it. Freezing cold water pummelled her skin and judging from the wheezing and puffing noises exploding from her mouth, poor Janet wasn't exactly having a pleasant time. I told her not to complain, but by now, I think she wasn't listening to anything I said. This was confirmed when the bitch tried to kick me. I soon fixed her waggon with a burst of the hose directed at her mutilated eyes.

Once I was satisfied that the shit was gone, I turned off the hose and entered the house, ensuring to wipe my feet on the mat before entering. I took the hook out of the bag, stood on the chair and mentally drew a parallel line from the light fitting to the edge of the ceiling.

While the woman moaned behind that gag, I proceeded to screw my hook into one of the rafters. I even whistled a merry tune as I worked. It felt so good to be back on track with my work. I put myself into the place of Donnie when he would be watching this movie for the first time. His mind would no doubt be all over the place. Shock and terror would no doubt be ruling his mind. In spite of the extreme emotions, he must be asking himself exactly what I was doing right now.

I turned to the camera and gave the lens another boyish grin. “If you have anything you wish to say to your dear mummy, now is the time.”

I stayed in place for a few more seconds before I jumped off the chair and went outside to fetch the woman. She weighed about a hundred and sixty pounds. A hefty weight but I still was able to lift her up and slide the cable tie wrapped around her ankle over the metal hook. I took a step back and folded my arms, admiring my handiwork. Her head was about two feet from the floor.

I gave the lens another wink before I fetched the plastic bag and rope.

My confidence had returned in spades. I was on familiar ground now. I could do the rest of the procedure with my eyes closed. That last thought caused a little smile to appear as closing my eyes was a task that Janet couldn't accomplish.

The woman obviously knew the end was upon her. In most cases, they accepted their fate and allowed me to finish them with the minimum of fuss. Not Janet though, this one would be fighting me right to the end. As much as I admired this, I really had no time for all this dancing about. There was no fear of her slipping off my hook but that wasn't the point.

I took a spoon from the cutlery drawer, kneeled in front of her wriggling body and smacked her left eyeball with the back of the spoon. “Anymore movement from you and your other eye gets the same treatment.”

Satisfied that she wouldn't cause any more trouble, I slipped the plastic bag over her head and brought the edge up to the base of her neck. Before pressing the plastic against her wet skin, I slipped my hand inside and sliced through her carotid artery.

The woman had finally given up struggling. It felt good to know she would soon be at peace. Janet knew it too. I rested my head against her chest. This moment brought us closer together. The faint smell of excrement still clung to her body but I was determined not to allow her one slip up ruin the moment.

The blood level inside my bag rose past Janet's eyes. For this, I was silently thankful. They had started to freak me out. Once the blood began to flood her nostrils, I felt a wave of calm inevitability wash over me. I know why. Janet had finally died. Only warm meat remained and would be treated as such

A couple of air bubbles rising through the blood and popping beside Janet's chin coincided with a quiet beeping coming from the camera. My battery was on its last legs, meaning that I would not be able to film myself jointing the carcass. This was annoying but not particularly essential. I still had the boy and Donnie's father to dispatch.

Once I had fully purged the evil from Donnie and was confident that he had earned the name of Franco, the boy would have to help me to pay the bills. I had decided that my next Franco should become a butcher. It made sense as for the next few months his world will consist of watching me murder his parents over and over.

All this was in our shared future. Right now, I had to prepare this one for easy transit before dealing with the boy. I reluctantly switched off my camera, packed everything away before starting on dissecting Janet.

There was really no need to go into detail as I performed the laborious cutting work on automatic pilot. There was also the fact that the events which followed once I had left the house completely eclipsed Janet's dissection and disposal.

I returned to the brickyard armed with a hammer that I had taken from the boot of my car. My intention was simple, to turn his head into a smashed up mass of brain lumps and skull splinters. I no longer cared about where he had come from. All I wanted to do was to destroy the little bastard.

The wooden handle felt good, a solid length of hard ash with a high-quality steel head. This hammer had tasted flesh and bone before. Unlike Janet, no care would be taken in the killing of this boy. He deserved even less.

I reached the chimney, took a deep breath and walked around the other side, preparing myself for the upcoming slaughter. That breath that I'd just inhaled blasted out of my mouth. I also dropped the hammer. I heard it splash into the soft mud. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I heard an alien voice berating me for treating such a valuable tool in such a disgraceful way.

The wave of confusion and uneasiness which washed over me earlier paled in comparison to the violent storm now brewing at the pit of my stomach. I could not get to the boy because the door leading into the base of the chimney was no longer there. The hole had been bricked up and from the looks of it, the work had been done years ago.

I bent down and curled my fingers around the hammer shaft, feeling the coldness of the mud seep into my bones. It did not surprise me to find a black cable tie sticking out of the mud nor to discover that the only footsteps around the chimney belonged to me.

CHAPTER FIVE

I awoke from a dream with the wondrous aroma of my mother's home-made oxtail soup massaging my nose.  The alarm bells in my mind did not open up until I found that my body was operating independently. Against a blurred background of beige light coupled with underwater moaning, I struggled to make sense of my predicament.

Revelation came at a price for once the image before me sharpened and the previously indistinct sounds metamorphed into hungry voices, my sanity went for a temporary swan dive. My inner psyche shrieked out as forgotten fissures of my traumatic past crashed to the surface. I thought I was about to drown in my own misery and yet, as quickly as it started, my consciousness savagely plugged each seemingly bottomless hole until all that remained was the urge to sleep. An ironic sensation considering I first believed that I had just woken.

Thankfully, the seamless transition into full alertness stopped me from spilling a ladleful of steaming meat broth over the back of my hand. For this favour, I silently thanked the invisible hand of providence for ensuring nobody saw me pop back into reality.

I gazed into the rheumy blue eyes of the homeless man, standing in front of our table. His age could have been anything from his late thirties to early sixties. This was the soup kitchen. Much to the disappointment of the foul smelling man, I carefully placed the ladle back against the side of the large metal container and turned around.

Bright sunlight streamed through the large windows, eight feet above my head. I was in the soup kitchen. Bethany and Bennie stood at either side of me, each one serving our guests from two more similar sized pans. The huge crowd of people suggested that this could be a Wednesday. If this was the case then it meant that I had lost three days of my life.

I started at the yellow wall, forcing my mind to clear away the dense fog which refused to allow me to access memories after I parked my car and walked along the dark street, heading for the home of Janet Simpson.

“James, are you alright? You've gone all pale.”

“Buddy, excuse me, but don't we all get two scoops? This ain't gonna fill me up at all.”

That whiny, yet demanding voice almost pushes away my civilised response.  This causes me more anguish than finding that I've lost a small chunk of my memory. I turn around to find both Bethany and the tramp staring at me. Her face is a picture of concern. I'm grateful that I saw her first otherwise, this situation could have turned awkward.

“I'm fine, Bethany,” I replied. “The aroma of the er food got to me, that's all.”

The woman smiled back, totally understanding my silent suggestion regarding the homeless man's neglecting of his basic fucking hygiene.

“Terribly sorry about that.” I picked up the ladle, give the irritating fucker another serving and flashed him a winning smile, deciding that to carry on as normal would be a better response than grabbing his ears with both hands before thrusting his face into the pan and holding him until the cunt stopped moving.

I've experienced something so traumatising that my mind initiated a complete system shutdown and restart. After confronting such a monumental change, lesser men would now be shivering below this table, pissing their pants and crying for their mummy. A lesser man wouldn't even be here, they would have woken up in some dark alley, covered in their vomit.

This alone proved to me that I was the proof of the next human evolution. My mind had literally shut itself down, put my consciousness into a dormant stage and yet I was able to carry on with my scheduled routines with nobody being the wiser. I settled into the mundane task of feeding these animals knowing that the memories from my missing days would, in time, be revealed. There was little point in trying to squeeze them out.

“This has got to be our best ever Saturday turnout,” said Bethany.

It's only Saturday, this was good news. It meant that I had only lost a few hours, probably no more than a night. The idiot standing next to me didn't immediately agree with her as per the norm. Bennie nearly always enthusiastically agreed with anything Bethany said, drooling like some foul dog in desperate need of euthanising.

“I can't believe that you were able to procure so much supermarket meat! You really are an angel, James. Just thinking that if you hadn't shown up, those ungrateful morons would have dumped all this. ""

“This is good quality stuff”, said Bennie, grudgingly.

I found it most refreshing to have two questions answered. Bennie's bad mood stemmed from Bethany's apparent good fortune over scavenging such a bountiful supply of meat. I watched Bennie pop a small lump of his sister's body into his mouth. It also showed that despite my blackout, I hadn't fouled up on the simple procedure of the killing and the disposal of a body.

The queue had now begun to lessen. I saw the reason, another volunteer had closed the doors, only opening them to allow the homeless to leave the building. Bethany scooped up the remaining scraps from her pan before picking up the now empty pan and dropping it into the communal sink behind her. I did the same, leaving Bennie to wipe out his pan with a couple of slices of bread.

“You'd think he never got fed at home,” remarked Bethany. “I know it's an awful thing to say but I'm sure that the promise of free food is the only reason he comes here.” Her face changed colour to match her red top. "Sorry, James. Please don't tell him that. "

“I think we both know the real reason why he turns up, Bethany.” Right at that moment, I wanted to swallow my fist. What the fuck was I playing at? “It looks great for his annual review,” I added. If I hadn't stopped myself, my big mouth would have told her everything. Not just that Bennie likes her. Oh no, my rebellious mind would have explained in great detail of what the wimp would do to her naked body.

“Yeah, that sounds about right for him.” She glanced past my shoulder. “I'd better go help Adam remove the stragglers. Seriously though, James. I'm so grateful for your help in getting this food. It's been months since I've seen so many happy people.”

Bethany spun around and hurried over to the main door, leaving me guessing as to whom the approaching shadow belonged to, like I needed to guess. The familiar smell of Bennie's cheap aftershave gave me the biggest clue.

“Did you by any chance look into my little favour, buddy?” Bennie's leering gaze settled upon the back of Bethany's shapely thighs. “It's probably better if we get this little problem sooner rather than later.”

Now he was setting time limits. This would have really annoyed me if I was actually going through with Bennie's stupid request. Despite this, the man's automatic assumption that I was going to be the little bastard's benevolent protector made me want to hurt the man.

“Don't worry about it, my friend,” I said, giving the clown a reassuring smile. “Believe me, his worries are almost over.” He stood right next to a concrete pillar. I wanted to smash his head into that hard corner. Bennie's mouth opened and closed. The goon was thanking me, at least I think that's what he was doing. His words made no sense. All I saw was my fingers reaching for Bennie's ear, squeezing hard before slamming that grinning bastard into that corner.

The first blow stopped his chatter but it didn't end him. Bennie wasn't the only one who had stopped talking. Both Bennie and Adam were staring right at me. They both looked like rabbits caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Bennie managed to lift his head off the floor. He said something. It sounded like glark. I lifted my foot, placed the heel over the ear that I had just held and stamped down as hard as I could. There was a definite crack of bone this time.

I wanted to drop to my knees, turn him on his back, pull up his yellow shirt and bite a hole in the thin skin stretched over his scrawny chest. I only needed enough space to force my fingers inside, pull apart the ribs and mush the bastard's heart in my fist.

Adam was trying to get out of the building. His fingers fumbled and slipped, as he attempted to turn the Yale lock. I walked towards him, grinning. My smile was there because I knew that I was going to kill him, also because he too was making a glark sound.

Bethany, bless her, had taken to crouching in the corner. She wasn't joining in with the glark chorus, instead she was praying. It wouldn't do her any good as I had a special plan for that woman. I was going to fuck her to death.

Big fat tears mixed in with the snot dribbling into his open mouth. Adam had given up on trying to open the lock. He now stood with his back pressed against the glass door. Such a silly man, it is like he wanted to die.

I was more than happy to oblige. He screamed out even before I got near him. I found his whole attitude towards his fate utterly sickening. Some people just don't know how to die with grace. Bethany wasn't making that pathetic noise. She must know that I'd be doing her next.

A hard slap to the chops shut up that whiny little shit. I grabbed a large pan from one of the tables, grabbed both handles and hit Adam on the bridge of the nose with the edge. He crashed onto the floor like a sack of potatoes.

I smiled down at the quaking man and decided to do Bethany before I slaughtered this mummy's boy. He wasn't going anywhere. I turned around and...

“Thank you, James,” said Bennie. “Janet will be so grateful for this. She's had a hell of a time with the school.  They won't do a thing to help.”

I blinked rapidly. Bethany and Adam were still by the door, laughing and joking. She patted the back of Adam's hand before he opened the door to let her out.

“Look, if I can do anything to return the favour, just ask.” Bennie grinned. “Hey, remember that katana that you just happened to mention a couple of weeks ago? Well, there's somebody at work who knows this guy who knows another guy who just happens to deal with military antiquities.”

What was happening to me? Just what the fuck is going on? I looked at the palms of my hands, looking for some trace of Bennie's blood. My hands were clean. I had imagined it all. I did not like where this was going. For the first time in my life I felt as though my life was spinning out of control.

“I'd better go lock up. I'll see you around.”

Bennie gave me a manly nod before turning and sauntering over to Adam. I waited until there were two paces between us before following him. I couldn't help myself, it's as if someone else was controlling my body. I was going to murder Bennie for real this time.

He stopped to talk to Adam. Their conversation switched from the weather to football. It was a subject that either of them knew little about. They knew I was behind them. The men always did this whenever I was within listening distance. I knew nothing about football either, I just gave the impression that I did. Consequently, these outcasts of society did their utmost to ingratiate themselves with their pack leader. Today, this pack leader would be feasting upon their carcasses.

I stopped dead when I caught my reflection in the thin sheet of reflective metal that the previous building owner had fastened onto the wall, near the door. I didn't recognise the man staring g back at me. My mind was a boiling mass of conflicting emotions. I raged, wanting, needing to rip into their tender bodies, yet the image in that mirror couldn't be calmer. It was a picture of Zen tranquillity.

In one aspect, I too needed to disguise my true feelings, to blend in with the common herd. When I looked back, the two men had gone yet the insatiable urge to quench my blood lust hadn't left me.

Instead of seeking out Bennie or Adam, I walked over to the front door, turned the lock and let myself out. The cold afternoon air helped to dampen the burning fire but failed to extinguish it completely. I turned left, walked a couple of paces before turning left again.

Strong pine disinfectant stole away the sweet scent of decomposing leaves. My feet had guided me around the back of the building and into the alley where we separated the rubbish, ready for the recycling waggons. This area always used to be full of homeless during the night and day. Thanks to another charity procuring a large building and converting it into a basic hostel had given the homeless a safe place to spend the night. The owners of this building helped to ensure this alley wasn't occupied during the day by employing a team to clearing away the accumulated rubbish and hosing the walls with cleaning chemicals.

It wasn't often that the homeless ventured down away anymore, nevertheless, I wasn't alone. At the far end of the alley, I spotted another figure, his arms and head buried in a bin that hadn't been emptied. The figure's sense of danger must have kicked in just before I reached the fire escape as he lifted his head right out of the bin and glared at me.

It's only the attitude that had altered. The rheumy blue eyes were unchanged. He obviously had no recollection of our previous encounter, as far as he was concerned, I was another rotting piece of human garbage, out to steal whatever he had taken out of that bin. I slowed down but continued to advance. I only stopped moving when he pulled out a knife from somewhere inside the greasy, black folds of his clothing.

I grinned. So that's where the carving knife had vanished to. I had silently blamed Bennie when the utensil mysteriously disappeared two weeks ago. Perhaps I should still blame the whiny little shit. After all, it is doubtful that this foul smelling fucker had managed to pick the kitchen door lock and steal the knife without anyone seeing him. From observation, I know that despite their apparent stupidity, most of them possess a low cunning. It's more than likely that Bennie had carelessly left that knife on one of the tables in the common room and forgotten about it.

How sweet, he was threatening me with it now. I was only going to put him out of his living misery. My car is a classic, so I still have keys in which to open the doors. The one which unlocks the boot is just over three inches and serrated along both sides.

My initial idea was to wall him up, hold him by the throat while stabbing him a number of times in the side of his neck. I only wanted this fury for murder which threatened to overwhelm my logical thinking to dissipate. I had no interest in prolonging his agony.

I dropped my car keys back into my pocket, stooped to pick up half a brick before resuming my stride. Him having the audacity to threaten me changed my plan. It changed everything.

“Go on, you. Clear off. I mean it. Fuck off or I'll stick...”

His sentence stayed unfinished as my brick smacked him right in the nose. The knife fell from his hand and clattered across the stone.

“You shouldn't have threatened me.” I tried to adopt a calm reassuring tone. This was the prelude, the moment for the game players to fall into their respective roles. On this occasion, this was not to be. The silly bastard hadn't just dropped the knife, my throw had knocked him backwards. His head hit the wall behind him. I had doubts that the homeless guy knew which planet he lived on. I stood over his sprawled body then kicked his hipbone. He opened his eyes. I was almost expecting him to say glark.

As for myself, my role in this event, I was irrelevant, a wasted and pointless endeavour. This kill wouldn't be helping to educate a future Franco. I looked at my reflection in the blade, seeking out the monster which hid behind my blank facade, but the monster wasn't hiding, not now, not after smelling the broken man's blood.

I dropped down beside his still body, watching his chest rise and fall. I moved his head to the side as I didn't want him to choke on the thick blood pissing out of both nostrils. He even started to snore.

I allowed him to continue creating his disgusting bubbly farting noise while I proceeded to slice through his trousers. I silently congratulated the animal for retaining the blade's sharpness. It made mincemeat of his shiny fabric. Which is ironic as that was exactly what I intended to do to his thigh. Of the two pieces of material which I sliced away, one was crumpled up and stuffed in his mouth, while I wrapped the other piece around my hand. It was such a vile experience to have something ingrained with mud, grease, shit and piss next to my skin but it would provide some protection if he tried to bite me.

I chopped at his leg, and I confess that a quiet squeal of delight escaped from my mouth as the blade bit into his thigh, just above his knee. I brought the knife down again and again, creating parallel lines, each one about an inch deep as I travelled along the flesh.

With each blow, I felt the aching grind that had settled deep in my bones start to ease. I chopped faster and faster, moving up his body, past his hips and up his stomach. My fury only increased when the tramp writhed and bucked, not stopping or slowing down. My blade dug deeper every time he lunged. This macabre dance only eased by the time my knife had reached the man's shoulder.

I don't know whether he stopped his movement because he'd drained all his strength or I stopped because I knew he would be dead in seconds if I chopped at his neck.

I removed my hand then unrolled the material. I wouldn't need that again, the elation surging through my body while I watched him take his last few breaths drove away the last remnant of my urges. I felt almost normal, back in control and complete.

“I have done you a favour,” I whispered, tenderly stroking his cheek. His hot blood covered both his face and my hand. This didn't matter anymore. In fact, I welcomed it, for the metallic odour of blood mixed with the pungent smell leaking from his insides which pushed against the slits up his stomach completely overpowered the tramp 's own body odour. It was a smell that I knew intimately.

“Your life needed to end. In all honesty, you are a parasite, a burden upon society.” I leant closer. “I know it hurts but that is your fault for threatening me. If you had allowed me to continue without aggression, you'd be dead by now." I sighed in satisfaction at knowing that despite my initial reservations, I had taken the right decision in removing this leach from the street. He had done me a favour too. I now thought with total clarity without any undesirable urges tugging at my inner being.

“You're almost there. In a few more seconds, you will be leaving this hurtful place.” Until I spoke, his eyes had zoned out and his eyelids were closing.

EYELIDS! FUCKING EYELIDS!

I shook away that random thought and put it down to the residual excitement. The dying man looked no longer content to leave his body. He glared right at me, and his lips curled into a snarl. He even managed to use his tongue to push out the sock. He uttered a single word. I wasn't too sure but I believe the derelict just called me a cunt.

Some people just can't appreciate a simple gesture of goodwill. I couldn't allow him to take advantage of my hospitable disposition. He wanted to snarl at me then fine, let's make it permanent. It's not that surprising to me to see the terror come back when I grabbed his jaw, forced open that hateful mouth before sliding the blade across the stubbled flesh. With a couple more sawing motions, I found his jaw opened a lot wider due to the thick flesh at either side of his mouth had split all the way down to the jawbone's hinge.

He still wouldn't die.

I got off the floor, stood over him then bent over and positioned the blade across his throat. I rested my hand close to the edge and pushed down. There was very little resistance. He exhaled his last breath at the same time as I heard Bennie lock the main doors.

His shadow made a brief appearance across the stone alley floor before vanishing again. A couple of moments later, Bennie's car alarm beeped. I was so glad that I didn't murder him and Adam. The time wasn't right, I suspect that somewhere deep inside my damaged mind, I knew this.

That alone must prove that I was above them all on the evolutionary ladder. Even broken, I could still function far better than any of those poor fools. I licked the blood from one side of the blade. I was no longer broken, and I had a job to do.

I walked towards the high street, aware that I must look like I'd just crawled out of a car pile up. This didn't concern me as I knew now that providence would not allow anyone to see me in this condition. Bennie's dark blue car pulled out of his usual parking space and headed over to the junction before turning right.  He would be calling in his local pub for a swift pint before ringing in his takeaway order.

His car vanished behind a row of shops. I had something very special lined up for that one.

CHAPTER SIX

I watched the city peek over the cityscape, its cleansing rays eating through the shadows left by the night.  The streets are devoid of life. It would be another hour before the first early workers trudge past this window. It's been over a decade since I last heard the clinking glass and the electric whine coming from the milk float on its laboured climb up the steep hill to the left of my house.

I used to retreat in here to be alone, to calm down, to stop me from doing something I would regret later. I think it is true to say that this room has helped to prolong the life of every Franco I owned.  I idly ran my forefinger down the side of the cold glass, watching the collected condensation drip onto the dark green carpet.

I looked down at the dark patch and noticed tiny particles of mould growing on the fibres. Were they there the last time I was in this room? I moved to the side, keeping my eyes on the floor. The carpet beneath my feet was worn down to the threads, again, I had not noticed this until now.

Perhaps the time had finally arrived to shake off the last shackles belonging to my past and clear out this room once and for all. The idea did appeal. I became the sole owner of this property almost fifteen years ago, and since then, I altered almost every other area to suit my tastes, as opposed to putting up with what they preferred. “Except for your old room and Tommy's bedroom, James.”

The sound of my voice echoed around the walls. It reminded me of exactly why my feet had brought me into here in the first place. I missed my Franco. I could not explain how this could be, how having no other person in the house made me irritable.  I do not enjoy being in the company of others. The whole idea of engaging small talk with other people filled me with disgust. I am not what you would class as a social butterfly.

I wandered into the kitchen and made myself a sandwich that I did not want before returning to the living room. I purposely walked past Franco's corner without glancing to the side. It didn't make any difference. Even staring straight ahead, my peripheral vision still clocked the empty walls.

Less than seventeen hours ago I was congratulating myself on releasing my irrational urge to kill some random stranger, yet even before I was done with clearing away the mess, another emotion gripped me by the throat. This one was despondency. I even considered leaving the mutilated body where it lay. Thankfully, some common sense kicked in and I cut it into several pieces before dropping them into the sewer for the rats to consume. Last night, I put the feeling down to tiredness. It's true that I was exhausted, even my bones felt fatigued. Sleep was the answer, at least, that's what I believed.

The food tasted like wet cardboard. Nevertheless, I ate every crumb. I was told never to waste food, not when there are people starving on the streets. My nerves should be buzzing right now. For this is the day when young Donnie starts on the path which will lead to him becoming the final Franco.  I had just fifteen minutes before I needed to leave the house, so I should be spending my remaining time enjoying the solitude for once I return with the grand prize, there would be no running away from my responsibilities, no retreating into my bedroom and either looking out of the window or sitting against the door in the hope that the other fuckers had left the house.

I blinked rapidly, wondering why that thought had wandered into my mind. It had been decades since I gave my two dead brothers any thought.

“Why wait, James?”

I saw no reason to wait in here any longer. Leaving now meant that I had enough time to grab a bacon sandwich on the way. I know I'd be able to taste that, if I added enough salt and brown sauce. With my plan worked out, I left the kitchen, walked along the hallway and took one last look at my bedroom door before leaving the house. It occurred to me that even after some many decades, I still hadn't done anything about all the little holes in the wooden door.

I remember one of the Franco's working up the courage to ask me about them. I replied with the stock answer of woodworm. I didn't tell him that when I was Franco's age, my two brothers used to order me to stand in front of that door while they took turns in throwing darts at my head. They only hit me four times, for which I was most thankful.

As I walked over to the car, I stopped on a couple of old flagstones. Under those stones lay the decomposing body of the Franco who asked me that question. That error did not cause his death but it probably sped the process. I pressed a hot iron on his left shoulder for daring to ask that question which opened up a wound that took literally weeks to heal.

The idea of a bacon sandwich suddenly sounded like the best idea that I ever had. I knew I was smiling and couldn't help myself. Perhaps the fresh air had cleared out the cobwebs in my head or perhaps the excitement had finally kicked in.  I started the car and moved off while listening to some music. It did occur to me that the reason why the despondent emotion had sloughed from me was that for the first time since I killed all three, their influence was at last diminishing and the more I thought about it, the more convince I was that this was the correct reason. How else could I explain why I wanted to redecorate my old bedroom?

There was a cafe on Foundry Street which put together a fantastic breakfast. I decided to stop in there for my sandwich. It was on the way to where Donnie's father lived. As I drove along the empty road, observing all traffic regulations, I allowed my mind to go over the events after I disposed of Mr Blue Eyes. Even with the despondency creeping into my body, I still was able to envisage a concept which had never before crossed my mind. It concerned the concept of souls. I have a soul. That much is obvious for I am a higher life-form. After all evidence of the derelict vanished, I seriously doubted that he had a soul remaining.

I'm sure he had one before devolving into the parasite that I ended but did it stay with him until the end? It might sound like a frivolous and pointless idea to plague me while returning home but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't think of anything else.

In the end, I came to the conclusion that he did indeed possess a soul. I seriously doubted that he had one like mine. I imagined that my soul would resemble a metaphysical pulsing ball of billions of colours whereas the tramp's soul would likely look like a lump of sloppy dog-shit, clinging to the pavement after a heavy rainfall.

My thoughts went into free fall when I spotted another derelict huddled inside a closed shop alcove. I don't know why but I left the car and approached him. Predictably, he asked for some spare change. When I put my hand into my pocket, his face exhibited can expression similar to Mr Blue Eyes when I first chopped him with the knife. I had seen this one a couple of times at the soup kitchen so I asked the derelict why he wasn't sleeping at the hostel. The man began to cry and I honestly believed that his ruined mind had forgotten about the place.

It then struck me that giving them money, helping them with feeding the homeless was actually prolonging their torment which further diminished their already damaged souls. This meant that I really did that tramp a favour. It was the ultimate good deed.

I left the derelict to his own devices and returned to the car without giving him any money. Looking back to my state of mind last night, I think that was the only time when my mood lifted, for I found that my ambition to prove her wrong with Franco wouldn't stop once I had succeeded.

I owed it to Providence to give something back, to perform the ultimate good deed. I stopped the car outside the shop, wound down my window and inhaled the wonderful smells drifting from the shop. My stomach growled. I was starving! I wouldn't be content with just a bacon sandwich. Only a full breakfast would fill me up.

I opened the door and climbed out of the car while humming to myself. Not only had my appetite returned, so had the excitement. I guess that thinking about my new Franco, once I had rid him of his evil, and I, patrolling the streets and killing every homeless person we found had something to do with it.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Once the first stage in Donnie's conditioning was complete, I would have to instruct him on the importance of security. At this moment, I was privately thankful that the forgetful boy hadn't locked the front door before climbing into the shower. It wouldn't have stopped me gaining entry to the house. The window on the other side of the house was open. Sneaking around the side might have attracted unwanted attention, which is something I didn't want.

I think that something inside me has subtly changed since my blackout. I think that I've become a more cautious person. It is true that most people do not take much notice of their surroundings. They all think the universe revolves around them, because of this arrogant attitude, none of them takes much notice of their surroundings.

I had walked right up to the front door, pushed down the handle and let myself in. I still radiated confidence, as the key isn't just boldness but to look like you belong. Even so, I could not help thinking that someone was watching me. The weird sensation didn't leave me until I shut the door.

An ironic concept as I had spent the last hour observing the house and its occupants for the past two hours. His father left for work exactly thirty minutes ago, leaving the child alone in the house. Quite frankly, this appalled me. The man only sees his child on weekends at yet he still opted to work instead of spending precious time with his son.

I used the limited time to quickly explore the house. My heart sank at the sight of a huge collection of horror movies, all neatly displayed on two pine bookcases, opposite the living room window. I might have even growled in disgust when I saw a games console on the carpet in front of the TV. The two controllers suggested that both the boy and father had been playing a game together. This alone sounded fine until I turned over the cover and a dozen decomposing zombies, all carrying various rusty weapons assaulted my eyes.

This was just unacceptable. What kind of parent willing corrupts their child with such vile imagery? I would have to punish the man for this heinous act. I filed this away for later before completing my search. I heard the shower stop just as I reached what I guessed to be Donnie's bedroom. The Batman quilt cover was the biggest clue. I then recalled the horror collection downstairs and it is a true fact that all people who are obsessed with such a disgusting subject are mentally retarded, so this could be the bedroom of his father's.

The bathroom door lock disengaged. I ground my teeth in frustration. I did not want to be in the wrong bedroom when he emerged. Next to where I stood was a bookcase, with a metal cage resting on the surface. Two black eyes peered at me through a pile of straw. I hadn't expected to find a hamster in here. The label stuck to the front of the cage announced that he was due to be fed tomorrow. It also said that his name was Gandalf.

I grinned as it became very clear as to who used this bedroom. The bathroom door opened at the same time as I unfastened the cage door. A hamster is an ideal pet for girls. Not so for boys. I adore hamsters, they're so cute and cuddly. Poor Gandalf 's life was doomed ad soon as Donnie chose him. The inherent evil inside the boy would see this lovely little creature as a torture object. This is a true fact. I have seen it with my own eyes.

The bathroom door opened. I held Gandalf against my chest, retreated into the shadows and waited for the boy to enter the bedroom. Torturing one hamster wouldn't sate the evil. He'd purchase more and more before moving to cats and dogs. Again, this is something that I have witnessed.

He waltzed into the room, looking like he didn't have a care in the world. Donnie had wrapped a dark green towel around his side. It irritated me to notice he wore no slippers. The boy's gaze fell upon the cage and he froze.

I had left the cage door open.

“Gandalf?”

He turned and his eyes found me. The boy shrieked and spun around, attempting to race out of the room. He didn't get far as I thrust my leg out. Donnie fell over my ankle, his towel fell to the floor and his face smashed against the carpet.

“Go sit on the bed, Donnie.” I strode over his sprawled body and stood in the middle of the hallway, blocking his escape. I repeated my command when the boy refused to move. Donnie raised his head. I did not see fear, the expected emotion. Instead, his features screwed up in hate and fury. I'll admit that his reaction surprised me. I was not used to my Franco's showing resistance.

I reassured myself in the knowledge that Providence had literally dropped this Franco into my lap. This was the one to break the curse. Donnie was the one, so I guess his behaviour would alter from the norm. I smiled back at him. It wasn't anything I could not deal with.

I crouched, held the hamster by the scruff of the neck, grabbed it's left hind leg and savagely twisted it around. I'm not sure who screamed louder, the boy or the hamster. “Go sit on the bed,” I thundered. "Do it now or I'll bite its fucking head off."

Donnie snatched the towel from the carpet, covered his crotch and finally obeyed my first ever command. He sat on the edge of the bed, shaking. He was no longer glaring at me so I took this as a step in the right direction.

I cradled the animal in the palm of my hand while tenderly stroking its brown fur. It too shook like a leaf and just for a moment, I wondered if Donnie and Gandalf could be psychically linked. Just to make sure, I stared at the boy placing one of the hamster's ear between my thumb and forefinger.

The boy didn't even flinch when I pushed my thumbnail through the thin skin and ripped off Gandalf 's ear. I dropped the damaged animal back into its cage then stood in front of Donnie. He flinched when I ran my fingers through his damp hair. I was rather relieved that Gandalf and Donnie didn't share any metaphysical bond. I know it was a remote notion but I had to make sure.

I was treading on uncharted territory with this one, so I had to be prepared for anything.

The boy continued to shake. Was he cold? This room didn't feel that warm, and he only wore a towel. In the past, their shaking usually meant they were terrified of me. This is only natural, considering I had already proved that I was most capable of violence.

I looked over at Gandalf. He shook too. He had reason to. Tiny flecks of blood stuck to his bedding. He would adjust to his disabilities. Rodents are a most adaptable of animals. It might look like I committed a most heinous act upon such a harmless and cuddly creature but he really has come out of this ordeal for the better.

It will make Gandalf stronger. Adversity does that. This is true, as my mother lived by this rule and it is the only rule of hers that I agree with. My fingers moved down Donnie's head and lightly caressed both his ears. It is hard for me to admit this but I didn't think Donnie was all that scared of my sudden presence.  This meant that I could not afford to allow my confidence to blanket my cold logic. It meant that I had to turn the cruelty tap onto full.

The boy tried to move his head away from my hands. I thought that applying pressure on his lobes would nip that silliness in the bud but it only made him struggle more. Even with the foreknowledge that he would be different to the others, this behaviour astounded me.

I twisted both ears. He screamed again but didn't stop struggling. Was this kid part wild animal? I had never experienced anything like this before, and his continued screaming was making my head hurt. It was hard for me to stay calm.

I let go of ears, stood back and slapped him. The impact bust his lip but it did shut him up. Before the noise started again, I wrapped my fingers around his tender throat and lifted him off the floor. “You live at sixteen Evergreen Avenue with your mum, Donnie. Your mum, Janet is such a pretty little thing.” threw him on the bed. “Continue to defy me, and I'll hurt your mum.”

“Please, don't hurt her.”

At last! The boy can speak after all. His defiance was nowhere to be seen. He now looked exactly like all the other Francos, a soft, vulnerable, little boy. I almost wondered if I had imagined his rebelliousness. A quick glance at the blood splats on the hallway carpet soon put that silly notion back where it belonged. I sat on the bed and grabbed the boy's ankle. He didn't try to pull his leg out of my loose grip. I took this as a good sign. Still, he could be crying crocodile tears. It was important to establish the boy's place as quickly as possible.

I took a cable tie from my back pocket, took his other leg and held them together while fastening the plastic strip tight around his ankles. “I'm going to set some rules for you, Donnie. You see, you and I are going to be spending a lot of time together. So, obviously, you need to understand what will happen if you upset me.” I climbed onto the bed and stood over the boy. The snarling face looked close to reappearing. I suspect that he was trying to control his base emotions to avoid any more pain. This is understandable. Donnie was now aware that I was not going to handle him like a fragile glass ornament.

Nevertheless, the boy still needed to know what happened if the rules were broken.

I kneeled down, my knees touching the boy's hips. The bed creaked. I held his wrists and leant towards his frightened face then I paused.

I found myself licking my lips. I heard a whisper at the back of my mind. This made me a little uneasy. Was it a memory, or was it Providence? Whatever the origin, the message was clear. Do not give this one the standard opening threatening speech.

I was going to hit with the 'If you do not obey me, I will fuck your mum with a broken coke bottle'. The words were still there, impatiently wanting to be heard. There was no doubt that the threat worked in the past, but now I wonder if the words strengthened that parental bond that I had tried so hard to break. I needed to try a new approach. This wasn't a problem as like Gandalf, I could adapt to any new situation.

“Who lives next door, Donnie?” I slapped him again when he didn't answer immediately. It wasn't as hard as the first slap, but it got the message across.

“Mrs Dyson!” He stammered.

“How old is she?”

“I don't know.”

I raised my hand.

“I don't know, I swear.” He started to cry. “Please don't hit me again!"

I sighed, heavily. At times, I forget that as far as most kids are concerned. Anybody over the age of thirty is ready for their grave. “Does she work?"

He shook his head. “No. She did. Dad told me that she worked at the mill until she retired a few years ago."

“Does this old woman live alone?”

Donnie nodded. He looked relieved to have been able to a answer question without me hitting him. Mrs Dyson would be a curtain twitcher, meaning she could have heard Donnie's previous unpleasantness. I sat up, placed his wrists together and fastened them with another cable tie. I don't know about you, Donnie but I'm getting a little peckish. Let's go downstairs."

I threw the boy over my shoulder, Walked out of the room then ducked back in and grabbed the cage. “Gandalf can keep you company."

I took the pair of them downstairs and broke the awkward silence by whistling a Christmas tune. It still annoyed me that his father had exposed the boy to such vile movies and video games but I tried my best to stay calm. It did occur to me that his recent game playing might have attributed to Donnie's initial defiance. Still, that's all water under the bridge now.

The sofa was full of discarded clothes, so I deposited Donnie on the chair and placed the cage on the coffee table next to him. “Right, I just need to collect something. You are going to stay quiet and still. There will be trouble if you defy me, boy." I stood over him. "Do you understand this or do I hurt you again?"

He shook his head. “I won't move, I promise."

I patted his head and left the room, knowing that he would behave. I might not have told him what I would do to his mum but the silent threat was there. Granted, I didn't think he was a total mummy's boy like my last Franco but that didn't matter. After all, who didn't love their mum?

I left the house, ensuring that the front door stayed open, before jumping the low fence which separated both properties. I peered through the closest window and saw her, sitting in front of the television with a black and white cat curled up on her lap. She was watching the news. Both of them looked quite contented. It didn't surprise me to find that I could hear the news reader's every word. This also calmed my concern that she might have heard the boy screaming.

Time was wasting and l dare not leave Donnie alone for too long. I stood back and checked the other windows. No lights. Mrs Dyson lived alone. Although this rather unscientific approach didn't confirm this, I trusted Providence to see me through.

I banged on the door in the style of a policeman and waited. Sure enough, within a moment, ambient yellow light shone through the front door's frosted glass. Her dark shape soon blocked out most of that light.

“Hello? Who is it?”

“Mrs Dyson, this is the police. I'm sorry to bother you at this late time, but I'm afraid that I have some rather distressing news.”

The sound of the chain disengaging and the key turning was music to my ears. She opened the door and smiled at me. Mrs Dyson wasn't much bigger than Donnie. Such a fragile little thing. I bet she must be pushing seventy. I clenched my fist and punched her hard. She flew back and hit the side of the wall. It took me just seconds to secure her. After pressing a strip of gaffa tape across her lips, I discovered that I was running out of cable ties. I didn't think I would need any more tonight but this still concerned me. I hated being unprepared.

Once I had done with the old woman, I walked into the living room and turned the volume on the television down a couple of notches. It was way too loud.

Three cats, the one previously on her lap and two ginger animals, followed me out of the living room and watched with great interest as I picked up their sleeping mistress and carried the old woman out of the house. I shut the door behind me as those pussy cats were about to follow me out into the street. I couldn't allow that to happen. The litter tray in the hallway suggested to me that Mrs Dyson's pets never left the house. The poor things wouldn't last ten minutes out here.

I had to hold my nose while I carried Mrs Dyson into Donnie's house. The smell coming off her wasn't that much different from the aroma that caught my nose when I walked past that litter tray, but with the added scent of 1970s perfume.

It pleased me to see that Donnie hadn't moved. I know this sounded silly, considering I'd only just met the boy, but I really believe that a connection was forming between us. This made me happy. His eyes fair bulged when I brought Mrs Dyson into the living room. Her weak struggling told me that the old woman coming around. This pleased me as well.

I stood the woman, in front of his father's overstocked bookcase and ordered her not to move. To reinforce my command, I held my large fist millimetres from her terrified eyes. From the moaning behind her tape and her trembling body, I guessed she received the message loud and clear.

“You have been a very good boy, so far, Donnie.” I winked at Mrs Dyson, just to help her relax, before I turned around to face the boy. “I can't forgive the screaming. I'm sorry.” I held up my hand. “I know, I know that you couldn't help yourself. If I was in your place, I might have even done the same.”

I then spun around and rammed my boot between Mrs Dyson's legs.  It pleased me to see that he hadn't repeated his previous transgression. In fact, he even slapped his palm across his mouth.

That was such a sweet thing to do. “This is all your fault. If you hadn't screamed, this poor woman wouldn't be in this situation.”

The boy started to cry again. I picked Mrs Dyson off the floor and held her at arms length. Her lightness made this an easy task. Again, I silently thanked providence for ensuring that the woman living next door didn't weigh the same as a dumper truck. I fastened my grip under her chin before letting go of her dress. “It's almost over, dear.” I offered her one of my boyish grins before punching her in the gut. It's natural to fold up when you've been winded but for her, this was impossible. I hit her a couple more times dropping her back on the carpet.

I left the boy to stare at his handiwork while I wandered into the kitchen. I returned seconds later with a bin bag and a smaller plastic bag. I spread the bin bag in front of the woman before lifting her onto it. I stuffed her head into the other bag. While pressed the plastic hard against her nose, I decided to put my earlier trepidation down to a combination or lack of sleep and the residual effect of whatever had afflicted me yesterday.

“I bet you feel really bad now, Donnie.” She was almost dead. Mrs Dyson was coming to the end of her life. Still, she did have a good innings. “This is to be expected.” Once I was satisfied she was well and truly dead, I dropped her corpse and walked over to the cringing boy. In time, once I had flushed the evil hiding deep inside Donnie, the pair of us will look back at this first meeting with fondness, of that, I'm sure of.

“I don't know about you, lad, but I've built up an incredible appetite!” I put this down to having such an eventful and productive day. “I do a fantastic home-made burger and chips, Donnie.” Both Bethany and Bennie go wild over the occasional meals I make when the soup kitchen is closed. I am an excellent cook.

It is one of my many hidden talents.

I left the boy to continue staring at the corpse while I went back into the kitchen. I popped the fryer on before opening the freezer. “We can watch some cartoons if you like,” I shouted. Unlike that irresponsible father, I knew what kids should be watching. Cartoons were good clean fun, something the whole family could enjoy. Donnie's father should be ashamed of himself for showing such vile and disgusting movies to the young boy. Who knows what emotional damage those horror films could have done to Donnie. I guess its good fortune that I turned up when I did.

Donnie will eventually thank me for saving his life.

I pulled out half a bag of chips and a packet of fish fingers. It wasn't exactly what I wanted but beggars couldn't be choosers. It would do as a snack for now. There were a good few hours before I could take Donnie to the car. I wanted to wait until it was dark before I attempted that. I also wanted to make sure that when the father returned, the place looked pretty much how he left it. Donnie's dad and I were not due to meet until tomorrow.

It is difficult to describe the feeling of betrayal which surged through me when I walked back into the living room to find Donnie had moved from his spot. To make matters even worse than they were, he had the audacity to be cradling the old woman. This was just unacceptable. I almost killed him there and then. So much for sharing a connection.

To make matters even worse, if that was even possible, the glare had returned. I countered his glare with a sweet smile, even though I was seething inside, I refused to allow the boy to think that he had got the better of me. “My stomach really is rumbling,” I said. “Come on, let's go into the kitchen, you can watch me cook. Perhaps you will learn something.”

I took his hand, picked him up and took him out of the living room. He now smelled just like Mrs Dyson. That would not do, once I got him home, I'd have to bathe him myself. I lifted him onto the counter. “Okay, stay here. I have a surprise for you Donnie.”

I walked back into the living room, pulled Gandalf out of the cage. “Even think about screaming, you little cunt,” I yelled, “and your hand will follow!” I now returned Donnie's glare before dropping the hamster into the fryer.

CHAPTER EIGHT

It has been many months since my temper came out to play. Now that I've allowed my body and mind to rest, I feel that I should have reigned in some of my actions. Poor Gandalf certainly didn't deserve to go out the way he did, I also shouldn't have made Donnie eat the hamster's cooked insides either.

I put the boy in the transition room for the night. He has a bed, a blanket, a bucket for his waste and I've even allowed him a book. Donnie will be staying there for the next day or so. This will give him time to adjust to his new surroundings. Even though the very sight of him brings back that hateful memory of him looking like he wanted me dead, I am still happy and excited about the prospect of the boy's transition.

Once I calmed down enough to function efficiently, I placed the boy in front of the television, found a cartoon channel and made sure he couldn't escape before I started the clean up. I confess that the procedure of clearing away signs of my arrival helped my state of being more than usual. I don't usually enjoy the clear up.

Mrs Dyson was my first priority. She hadn't shit herself, like they usually do, that helped to lighten my mood. I didn't need the bin bag after all. In fact, I didn't even need the plastic bag. I could have easily killed her by squeezing her nostrils together. The bag was for Donnie's benefit, it added drama.

I dumped her body in her bed, after I had undressed her. It did surprise me to find she had rather firm breasts for a pensioner. I even took a picture to mark the occasion. Once she was in bed, I carried all the cats into the room and shut them in there with the body. They might be pets but after a few days of no supreme kittiecat chunks in beef jelly, their animal instincts will soon kick in.

It took longer to sort out Donnie's house, this was more due to me slapping and pinching the boy every time he started to whine, sniffle or cry. I'm sure he was doing it on purpose. We didn't leave until past eleven. Looking back, I think I did a pretty good job, despite Donnie's efforts to wind me up. His dad was due back home at just after midnight. As he normally called into the pub before driving home, I doubted that He'd even bother to check in on Donnie before collapsing on either the sofa or his bed. Even if he did look into Donnie's room, it would look like the boy was fast asleep. I found a spare pillow and a couple of blankets in the towel cupboard and used them to recreate a Donnie doppelgänger under his quilt.

I took my gaze off the row of yellow roses at the side of the garden and looked towards the ceiling. It's been a good ten minutes since Donnie stopped banging on the door. I suspect that he has gone to sleep. It amused me to hear the boy's tiny fists smacking against the wood. I already told the boy that I was the only person in the house, so exactly who he expected to answer his knocking was a complete mystery. My amusement stemmed from the similarity to how Tommy acted when David used to lock him in there all those years ago.

I looked back at my blooming roses. I put both of their bodies under the soil before planting the roses. I suspect that's the reason why they have done so well. I often go to bed, imagining the roots slowly growing and expanding and pushing their tendrils in order to gain as much nourishment as possible from their slowly decomposing bodies.

I so wanted to kick myself for allowing my mind to dredge up old memories. Now the floodgates were open, I couldn't stop their black sludgy thoughts drowning out everything else, polluting my mind. I managed to reach my armchair before my legs gave out.

It wasn't fair. I was the one who she was to go with next not that fucking Tommy. He should have waited his turn like I did, like we all did. It was how it worked. He was only thirteen, there was hardly anything between his legs to satisfy her. Yeah well. I wasn't going to let him get away with this, not a chance. Unlike Tommy, I would have made her scream. I had the necessary equipment and I knew what to do with it. I might only be fifteen but David showed me what to do. I've even read the banned flesh magazines which David sneaked in from beyond the house.

They didn't even keep it secret. I think that's what annoyed me more than anything. We could hear their moans and screams from the living room. I think they were doing it on purpose just to wind me up. Tommy was, that I did know.

He thought he could do anything and get away with it because he was mother's favourite. I listened to their pretend passionate sounds for another minute. David's sporadic giggling broke up the continuous noise. Trust him to find it funny. Then again, David found nearly everything funny, due to our older brother being wrong in the head.

David had a stalk on. At first, I thought that's what he found funny until I looked down my body and saw that I too was similarly excited. This annoyed me more than the betrayal "I'm going to smash his teeth through the back of his skull."

My brother's grin abruptly fell off his stupid face when he realised that I wasn't messing about. David gaped at me for a full minute before he slowly shook his large head. “That's not allowed."

The two upstairs were still going at it. I briefly wondered if I'd be able to last for so long. She and David had been having sex for three years, so she was bound to know what she was doing. It didn't bother me that the ape and her used to fuck each other every night while I used to play with myself while listening to them. After all, what they were doing was normal, it was right because our mother said it was alright. I turned around and stalked over to the living room door. I wanted to kill him. In fact, I wanted to kill them both. They wouldn't have done this if our mum was still the house. They wouldn't dare.

“It's not allowed,” he repeated.

“Fuck what's allowed,” I snapped.

He followed me up the stairs and for once, David's mouth was shut tight, an attribute which our sister and her legs should have considered before seducing Tommy. I stopped halfway up the steps. How strange. A moment ago, my rage was focused on Tommy. I blamed him for jumping the gun and convincing her to break one of the rules. I hadn't contemplated that perhaps he was blameless.

I continued my ascent. Oh, the little bastard wasn't totally blameless, that's for sure, but if it's dangled in front of you, only a fool would refuse. He wasn't a fool and neither was she.

“There are some strawberries in the fridge, James. Why don't we eat theirs too?"

The big idiot did not want to go through with this and I didn't blame him. We both knew that mum would go wild if I hurt any of them. It would be a return to the early days. I looked into his slobbering face then returned my gaze to Tommy 's bedroom door and right at that moment, I knew she was the one who had instigated this. She wanted to hurt me, to make me suffer, to punish me.

She also knew that I wouldn't let it lie.

I reached the landing, silently crept passed the bedroom of sin and entered my bedroom. David wasn't so quiet but it didn't matter, with the noise those two were making, those bastards wouldn't hear a herd of elephants stampeding past the door.

“Can't we just eat their food, James?”

I lifted my mattress to reveal a kitchen knife which I stole three months ago. David's eyes bulged in their sockets.

“So it was you!”

The knife felt like an extension of my own hand. I took it because it felt like it belonged to me. We all suffered whipping and the hose pipe because of the theft but this didn't concern me. Looking at David, I didn't think he would understand.

I grabbed it and held the knife in front of him. “I found this under your bed," I hissed. "It's okay, I know it wasn't you." I opened his fingers and carefully placed the handle in his palm. I did not want anybody to touch my knife but I did what was necessary. One of those two must have done it, David. It's the only explanation.

His fear had already left him. Conflicting feelings were now fighting for dominance somewhere inside his slow mind. I almost felt sorry for him. David like his days to follow a set pattern of predictable routine, where he didn't have to experience complex human emotions.

“She wouldn't do this. No way. She loves me. She told that loads of times.”

I nodded. David would do anything for the girl while it was his turn to fuck her. She lives like a queen. “No, I don't think it was." I leant in closer. “You know Tommy wants the best presents from Santa this year. He wants everything for himself. He has mum's love. He has the girl. Now he wants to get rid of me and you." I paused to allow my words to sink in before hitting him with the final blows. "Just imagine what would have happened to you if mum had found that knife under your bed."

His face drained of blood.

“She would put me in the garden for the bird's and the worms.”

I closed his fingers around the knife handle. “Then let's do him before he can find another way to make us disappear." I had almost got him. "David, once he's gone then I'll even share the girl with you."

“You, you would do that?”

“Of course I would. You are my best brother.” I laid my hand on his shoulder. "We'll kill Tommy, fuck her then we'll eat those strawberries." Now that I had primed my weapon, I had to think of some way to ensure David got the blame for Tommy's death. It shouldn't be too difficult.

It was one of my hidden talents.

David made no noise as we approached his soon to be resting place. If it wasn't for his huge shadow blocking out some of the light, I would have sworn he had chickened out. The room beyond had gone quiet. The pair must be sleeping, collapsed in each other's arms, exhausted after their marathon sex session.

David's erecting brushed against my thigh. It took a great deal of effort not to spin around and slap it away. Instead, I looked down and saw that I too was now aroused.

The door handle felt slippery under my hand.

“I think they've gone to sleep.”

His hot breath brought my neck hairs to attention. My ribs hurt thanks to my racing heart. I was sweating buckets and my cock had never been so stiff.

I opened the door a crack, counted to three then slipped into the dark room. David followed me in, still doing a perfectly good impression of a mouse. He left the door open enough to allow the light from the landing to guide us to their sleeping forms.

I stood at one side and David stood at the other side. He grinned at me and I returned the gesture. It felt good to be close to another human, even if I was only using him as I would use that knife.

Beneath the coarse blanket, somebody moaned. I grabbed the edge, nodded at David then pulled it down.

A single figure blinked up at me at the same time the girl unpeeled her naked body from the wall and darted out of the door.

The little bastard even had the cheek to smile up again me, acting like he was no more guilty than stealing food. That expression soon altered when Tommy's gaze fell upon the knife in David's large hand.

I slapped my hand over his mouth to stop the boy speaking. I had no wish for his possible dialogue to poison the words that I'd already implanted into the older boy's thick head.

“Did you enjoy pushing your worm into her honey-pot? You vile, selfish cuntbucket,” I snarled. "Grab his feet!"

As soon as David's fat fingers were around Tommy's ankles, I snatched my hand away, folded my fingers then punched him in the mouth. I gained a small amount of satisfaction by hearing a couple of cracks.

“You've broken some of his teeth!”

I nodded, smiling. “Yeah, I know. We had better turn him on his front, David. We don't want him choking on those bits of shattered teeth." Actually, I would have quite enjoyed watching that spectacle but I had other, more painful plans for Tommy.

David and I spun him over and twisted Tommy so his head dangled over the side of the bed. The big idiot then released one of Tommy's ankles and slapped the boy's arse.

“That's for trying to get me into trouble with the knife.”

Tommy howled in agony. I wasn't  surprised either. David made two of me and I was much larger and stronger than that weeping boy beneath me. Tommy mumbled something incoherent which I responded by giving his ear a savage twist. “David, pass me the knife."

As soon as the boy heard that, he bucked and struggled, doing his hardest get break free from us. David slapped his arse again. I desperately tried not to laugh.

I got down on my knees, grabbed his hair and lifted his head up until it was level with mine. “You have really pretty eyes. David, grab his arms on hold him. Make sure the little fucker can't move an inch."

David's trademark laughter filled the room while Tommy pleaded with me to let him go. That wasn't going to happen, no matter how much snot dribbled out of his nose.

“You disgust me.” I pressed the tip of my blade against his cheek then drew a bloody line all the way up to the bottom of his eye. “Such pretty eyes." Tommy's shriek came close to shattering my ear drum when I pushed the tip an inch into his eye.

I had to press my hand over his mouth to dampen his noise. It was horrible. He covered my hand in snot, blood as well as some dirty goop which had dribbled out of his eye.

“David, why don't you fuck him?” I smiled at his table leg sized cock and inwardly shuddered at the thought of what would be going through Tommy's terrified mind right now. It might even take away the agony of his eye. I know I would be at the thought of that monster tearing my insides.

The boy under me shivered. I was about to slap him when I saw the sweat dripping off David's face. It then hit me that it was the big lad who had the shivers and the vibration travelled through Tommy.

He licked his lips. “Oh my, I never thought of doing that." He pulled Tommy's bumper cheeks apart and giggled. "There isn't much difference."

Tommy was really struggling now. It took most of my strength to keep the little bastard still. I was grinning from ear to ear while watching David force that monster into Tommy. My erection hadn't softened either but I was saving that for her. My excitement wasn't sexual. To be honest, I found this whole endeavour rather distasteful. What excited me was this was happening because of me.  I was the sole reason for Tommy's agony.

“It's no good, James, it won't go in.”

“Don't you worry about that, my friend!”I shouted, giggling. "All you need is some lubrication. " I sliced a deep groove down Tommy's back, about an inch parallel to his spine. Thick blood flowed all the way down Tommy's Arse crack. "Try now, David. That should do it."

I pressed down on Tommy's shoulder blades while David pushed that monster deep inside Tommy. From the angelic look now showing on the big guy's face, I guessed that the blood did the trick.

As he thrust his body against Tommy, I found my mind looking for a way out. Mum was bound to go spare when she found out what we had done to her favourite son. Tommy was not going to live past tonight. I moved my hands onto the back of his neck as David's thrusting was making the skin on Tommy's back loosen and it felt really weird.

I pushed Tommy's head further down then leant across his back at the same time that David grunted once. He grinned at me.

“That was fun. Do you want a go?”

I watched in revulsion as he pulled his blood and shit stained cock out of the boy's ruptured hole and wiped most of the mess onto Tommy's Star Wars quilt cover I shook my head. “No, it's okay. Consider this my treat."

David walked over to the door and peered through the gap. I guess he was looking to see if she was hanging around. Not that I was all that bothered. There was plenty of time to sort her out. Right now, I had to finish off Tommy.

I lifted his head. The boy hadn't yet expired. That surprised me, but I wasn't sad. In fact, his continued existence cheered me right up. It meant I could hurt him again.

This was the first time that I had ever been intentionally cruel to anyone in the house. I knew that there was no warmth shared with anyone in the house. Empathy had never visited this dysfunctional family. Yet, it hadn't even entered my mind to brutalise another human, not even mother. Now though. I twisted the knife handle, watching the light from hallway glint off the bloodied blade.  Now though, I had just discovered that I rather enjoyed hurting people.

Thanks to David's frantic exertions, the sliced skin had slipped further from Tommy's spine. I could actually see the back of his ribs. With my free hand, I pinched his skin together and pulled the flap as hard as I could. Tommy suddenly found his voice again. David came running in at the sound of the boy's shrieking. His dick was still dripping goop onto the floor. In the dim light, it looked like he was pissing chocolate sauce.

It was very funny

I knew David was desperate to tell me something but he could wait. I so wanted to see if I could make the boy scream even harder. I rested the tip of the blade against two ribs then turned the knife minty degrees. I winked at David before pushing the knife down.

Tommy didn't scream again, he just exhaled loudly before going utterly still. “Fuck."

“Is he dead?”

I nodded.

“Oh.” David paused then licked his lips. “I think she's left the house, so does this mean we can have all their strawberries now?"

CHAPTER TEN

Donnie is quiet now. I haven't had to gag him either, so that's good. It is a struggle to stop myself from sighing. All the buzz, the excitement of turning this boy into the ultimate Franco has left me. This time, I fear it could be for good.

Rain splatters against the bedroom window. The wallpaper around the window frame turned black years ago. It seemed that the only force desperate to change this room was Mother Nature. Even after all these years, I still can't understand why I've never done anything about Tommy's old bedroom. It's not like I used it. In fact, this is the first time I've been in here for over a decade.

Apart from the effects of the weather, nothing has changed. His toys are where they left them on the three shelves, opposite me. The bed is still in the same position and the dark blue drawers still contain the clothes that he was only allowed to wear inside his bedroom.

Donnie shifted his body, but he still stayed silent. I did find a tiny amount of satisfaction in this, considering he couldn't be too comfortable. Perhaps it was a lie to say that nothing had changed, for just this morning, once I awoke with the memory of what I had done to Tommy still whirling through my mind, I came in here, armed with four thick metal hooks. I screwed two into the floorboards in front of the side of Tommy's bed and the other two on the opposite side.

The boy now laid in the same position that David and I placed Tommy, only unlike that long dead boy, Donnie could not escape as I shackled his wrists and ankles to those metal hooks using four pairs of handcuffs.

I sat beside him, my hand tenderly stroking the back of his head. The excitement might have left me but the craving for company hadn't. We have been in this position for over an hour now. To reassure Donnie, I play with his hair. Sometimes, I stroke his naked flesh. We might even be developing a connection. I hope so, although it really is too early to say for sure.

I think there might be something wrong with the inside of my head.

First the memory blackout and now I dream of Tommy. I had no worry that those missing memory fragments would resurface. I just had to give them time to assemble. What did annoy me was why my elements of my past decided to pay an unwelcome visit. The time when the others still lived in this house was supposed to be sealed away in an area of my mind. Shut tight, never to come back.

The past was the past, nothing could be learned from looking to what had gone before. The only way is to aim for the future. It was that simple. There certainly wasn't anything to gain from dredging up memories from that part of my life, no way!

Donnie released a quiet moan which brought me from my reverie. I blinked rapidly before checking on the time. This couldn't be correct, another hour had vanished. I frowned before slowly standing up. My bones cracked and I felt the beginnings of pins and needles in the back of my legs.

I kneeled down, not even caring about the pain I was in, and unlocked the cuffs around Donnie's ankles. I stood him up, walked around the other side and unlocked his ankles. “We should eat something, Donnie. Do you like strawberries?” I didn't give him time to answer that one, there was no point as all boys loved strawberries. I picked him up and carried the boy back into the transition room.

“This might interest you.” I carefully placed him on the bed then handed him his rough blanket. “Many years ago, another boy, of your age, was placed in the same position that I put you in. He was very pretty as well, Donnie. Do you know what happened to him?”

The boy shook his head. I wasn't sure but it looked as though Donnie was about to cry. In fact, I was sure of it. Something told me that Donnie had already guessed what I was about to say next. Their young minds, while not as vile as their teenage counterparts, still had an unhealthy obsession with all things about sex.

“I once had a brother, you see. Hung like a donkey he was, too.” I bent my knees until my eyeline equalled Donnie's. “Can you guess what he did?” I then cupped my crotch and rubbed it, while watching Donnie's face drain of blood.

I stood up, and rubbed my hands together. “Right,” I announced, grinning. “There are loads I have to do today, so why don't I fix us a sandwich? I bet you must be starving.” My last image of Donnie before locking that door was him rocking back and forward while clutching that blanket in his little hands.

He really did have pretty eyes.

Donnie had corned beef while I made myself roast ham, with lettuce and tomato. We ate in silence. The boy ate every crumb. I even gave him a half of my sandwich. It's good to share food. The light snack did help me find some of my lost focus, which was good, considering what I had planned for the rest of the day.

I left him in the transition room while I got myself ready for the task ahead. In times past, pre-Donnie, the task, as it were, wouldn't exactly be stressful. It was a simple task of taking them out, mutilating the body before snapping off a few pictures. Hell,  I could do that in my sleep. Not with Donnie's father though. His punishment required a slower and riskier form of punishment. For one thing, the camera was old hat. It was time for me to get down with the kids and embrace modern technology.

I intended to film myself, slowly destroying the man's body, for the future pleasure of Donnie's viewing at a later date. In fact I...

A kaleidoscope of deafening sounds battered the inside of my mind. Masses of blurred images accompanied each sound. I couldn't make out any detail, nor did I want to. All I knew that gallons of congealed blood painted most of the pictures now dancing around my fucking mind.

I managed to grab the bannister to avoid tumbling down the rest of the stairs. I sank to the floor. As the seconds crawled by, their grip upon my mind gradually receded. I might have stayed glued to that step for a minute or an hour, I do not know. I did not dare to move until I knew that whatever the fuck had just happened to me was not going to return.

In the end, I think it was the sound of the boy dropping something on the floor which spurred me into action. I did not go and investigate but I did make my way down the rest of the stairs.

I felt like some old woman struggling down a snowy hill. It was just shameful. Thankfully, nobody saw me reduced to such tragedy. After another few minutes of this embarrassing movement, I got to the bottom. My armchair beckoned but I dare not rest until I investigate what I suspected to be the cause of my fucking meltdown.

There it was. My bag of tricks, hanging over the back of my dining room chair at the far side of the living room. I stumbled through the open door and landed heavily on the floorboards. I didn't care. All that mattered was to check that bag. I crawled over to the chair, snatched the bag off the chair and rifled through the contents until I found my prize.

My hands shook badly but I still managed to press on my video player. The first image I saw was of a terrified woman staring at the camera. I then heard my voice.

---

I have watched that video twice now. I do not believe that I'll be watching it for the third time. After the first one, I was able to walk to my armchair, where I watched it again. This sounds stupid, but I believe that the first viewing allowed the jumbled contents of my mind to realign. I can function as normal although, I think the influence is still there, waiting just beyond my horizon, getting ready to pounce again and fuck up my life.

It is now paramount that I find some way to regain those missing moments, I just do not know how to attain this. The viewings haven't triggered them. Even after two viewings, my original memory of the incident refuses to return. All I have now, in their place, is of me watching this stupid thing.

Even though I'm feeling so much better than earlier, I sit here in utter misery. A black cloud hangs heavy over my head as each minute passes, portions of that cloud's weight tunnels through me, to rest in my gut. The video player is by the side of the chair. It's been there for the past ten minutes now.

My last recollection of that night ended with me approaching that front door. I am guessing that the time between that and of the video start wouldn't be more than a couple of minutes. That portion of memory didn't matter as I would have followed my standard procedure.

Although the memory loss post-death lasted the longest, that did not concern me either, as again, I would have followed the same path as all the others I had slaughtered over the years. Sawing off their limbs and burying the torso and head in the garden. Bennie and the homeless who'd visited the soup kitchen that day had all dined upon limb meat.

I left her in that position for seventy-three minutes.  My thoughts slipped a gear when the front door slammed shut and I heard the key turning. Her frantic struggling for the next few minutes suggested that she was trying to escape. I wanted to tell the woman to stop as I knew that she wasn't going anywhere. The man in the video might have felt like a stranger but it certainly was me and I knew how to keep people in one place.

It is one of my hidden talents, although right now, I would willing give that talent up along with all the others I possess just to find out why the fuck I left her.

I planned to show Donnie this video, right now, I am not sure that this would be such a great idea. The boy's reaction doesn't worry me, it will traumatise Donnie, that isn't the issue. I am more concerned at what it will do to me without knowing what happened to me beforehand.

The conditioning has to continue, I cannot allow my supposed mental anguish to delay the process any longer. This means that I have to go for Donnie's father tonight, despite my current mental state. It has to be tonight anyway, to postpone it would only give the idiot more time to find out that his son is no longer in the house. Him getting the police involved would unravel everything. I'm sure I clean up in both houses but police forensics were bound to find some trace. Human bodies are very messy.

“Why did it have to be that amount of time?” I forced myself to get out of the armchair. I picked up the video player and put it back in my bag before approaching the bay window. The weeds and wild shrubs cover up a multitude of bodies that I've buried in the past couple of decades. Yet, I still remember when the extensive grounds looked more pleasing to the eye. There were once three rows of fruit trees to the far left of the gardens and a  small lake and a collection of ancient playground equipment on the other side.

Seventy-three minutes was the time that David and I spent in the garden whilst pretending to look for the girl and Tommy while our mum stayed in her bedroom. We spent ages playing on the swings, listening to her shriek and wail.

We both thought it was utterly hilarious.

I had wrapped up Tommy's body in his sheet. I ordered Davis to carry it out of the house. Once I had weighed the package down with some heavy stones, the pair of us dropped it into the lake. I remember watching it sink while listening to the sound of David munch on an apple that he'd stolen from the orchard.

He was right about the girl though, she really had vanished. Not that I blamed her. After witnessing what we did to Tommy, the girl obviously thought that she would be next on our hit list. I almost admired her for having the guts to leave. Still, it did bring up the worrying prospect of what the pair of us were going to do for fun now.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

He had cleaned all the crap off his sofa, by depositing the detritus over the carpet. His dirty clothing now shared the dirty fibres with crushed beer cans and their dregs as well as cigarette ash and bits of uneaten food. My initial worry about forensics finding traces of the old woman in here now seemed misplaced.

In my house, just like my mind, everything has its place. The one exception to this rule is the area outside. I looked around the room with disgust, wondering how anybody could allow themselves to live in such vile conditions. This man is not far removed from the animals who frequent the soup kitchen.  I could safely say that the chaos he generates is almost equal to the bedlam that nature has visited upon my garden.

Considering the number of chemicals that I've employed over the years to render down the huge amount of bodies buried under the soil, I am honestly surprised that anything grows in there. It just proves to me that nature is indeed a most resourceful bitch.

The man is in bed,,, snoring like the pig that he is. It did not shock me to discover that his bedroom was in a similar state to this room. What did piss me off was on my previous visit, I actually wasn't sure whose bedroom I had first entered. In retrospect, it should have been fucking obvious from the outset.

Speaking of Donnie's old room, I did look in there as well. The place was just as I left it. I'm not sure if  I should be relieved or be angered by this revelation. What kind of father does not check on his son for almost twelve hours? He does not deserve to have kids. The man is a monster.

I stored away that feeling of anger as that was the type of emotion I needed to keep away the drowsing influence. My life would be over if that fucking thing suddenly jumped out on me while I was in here. Providence does not suffer fools or sloppiness.

It is obvious to me now that, she has given me a second chance, another opportunity to get this done. This is why the man never checked on his son, why he decided to drink so much. She was looking out for me.

I should have trusted Providence.

Back at the house, when my self-pity was in full motion, I did fear the man calling the police. I did fear a knock on the door. I also imagined a full squad of officers dressed I whites arriving at my property, armed with shovels, diggers and acres of white material.

If I fuck this up and the man somehow escapes me, I know for a fact, the police will be paying me a call. I will have failed. This cannot happen.

With the living room carpet so fill, I had to clear away enough rubbish in order for me to set up my gear. It truly was a disgusting job, I felt pity for Donnie's mum, having to live with such a slob, no wonder she told him to go. The woman must have felt like all her birthdays had come at once after he had left. It had been the best thing to happen to her.

“And then you showed up,” I murmured. That was pretty funny. I reminded myself to tell that to Donnie, right after I made him watch me murder his mother. I'm sure that in time he would appreciate the joke.

Before the games began, I checked through the rest of the house one more time, just to be sure that I was alone with Mr Untidy. As I entered the kitchen, I then started to ask myself if me finding somebody else in that woman's house could have explained my hurried departure. As strange as it sounded, the notion did have merits. One of them was not how this could explain my loss of memory.

I pushed this troubling thought to one side, as I had no intention of giving that drowsing influence any more ammunition. The kitchen, unlike Donnie's old room, was not how I had left it. In his drunken stupor, the sleeping man upstairs had decided to make himself something to eat. The lid from the fryer perched precariously on the edge of the greasy counter. I pushed that further onto the surface to avoid it clattering on the floor. Judging from the empty bag of frozen chips and a crushed packet of chicken nuggets hiding down the side of the cooker, he had used the fryer. I lifted the basket and tried my hardest not to laugh out loud. I saw a few bits of shrivelled fur stuck to the side of the metal.

It was time to set this in motion.

I drew in a breath and screamed out the word daddy. Of course, I increased the pitch to make it sound more like his son. Thanks to my earlier intervention, I knew that next door neighbour wouldn't hear it, I guess her cats might pause from devouring the corpse.

After a couple of seconds, the sound of something crashing onto his bedroom floor reached my ears. I guess that he must have fallen out of bed. His door flew open and the man charged down the stair. He ran into the living room and skidded to a halt at the sight of my video player on a tripod.

“Behind you.”

The man spun around, saw me grinned at his dishevelled form and opened his mouth wide. I pulled back my fist, waited for his alcohol soaked mind to adopt the suitable position before I booted him hard in the bollocks.

The man folded up like a well-thumbed newspaper. I guess that the man wasn't expecting such a vicious assault. I never see the point of doing the manly fist fight rubbish. Stuff like that belongs in the movies. Before he could recover, I dropped down beside him punched him hard in the guts and then in the throat before securing his limbs with cable ties. I dragged his twitching body into the video player's view and kneeled beside his head. I gave the camera a thumbs up and a smile before lifting the groaning man's head. I pointed it in direction of the camera and pulled up both sides of his mouth.

“There you go, Donnie. Even your daddy approves of my lessons.” The man jerked once, I guess that the sound of a stranger uttering the name of his son must have had some impact inside that pain-drenched mind.

Before he got an idea, like call for help or say that he loved his son and begged him for forgiveness, I pressed a strip of carpet tape over his mouth. Then stood up, allowing the back of the man's head to hit the carpet.

Donnie had his trauma video, he would now receive his instruction video. If the boy was to help me get rid of this town's plague of homeless, he needed to become more familiar with the inside of the human body. This was going to be so much fun. In fact, it took several attempts to straighten my face before I walked over to my bag and picked out the tools that I'd be using for the night.

This showed, once more, that I was better evolved than any of my human counterparts. I only had to stand up and step back then gaze down at this man, to show what I was capable of even in my decrepit state. I did not do this. For one, I am not a narcissist, also, because I was sharing the room with such a vile, disgusting, messy individual, I had no idea what could be lurking behind my feet.

It turned out to be yet another pizza container and a small pile of building blocks. This was just unreal. As Donnie was obviously too old for toys, those small pieces of plastic must have been lurking on that carpet for fucking years. I kicked away enough crap to leave me in the middle of a small circle of reasonably clean carpet.

I hummed the theme from a well-known cartoon as I undressed. I will admit that I was a little uneasy about allowing Donnie to see my naked body as it brought back too many painful memories of my own childhood but in this case, it could not be helped. If I was going to instruct him then I had to do this properly. Besides, I rather liked this maroon jumper I had just taken off. I certainly had no wish to bin it just for the sake of this loser.

Once all my clothes were sealed in a plastic bag and a pair of disposable slippers were upon my feet, I kicked a clear path to the man's body where I undressed him. As he would not need these clothes or any clothes for that matter, I simply sliced them off, he didn't seem to mind.

“Okay. Let us begin.” I turned to the camera. "Right now, our friend is very frightened. The fear stems from his inability to comprehend his situation." I chose my pliers, selected his big toe, gripped the nail and pulled. There was hardly any effort involved in the act. That surprised me. I turned my prize around and resisted the urge to clean all the lumpy gunk from the nail's inner surface. "There. Now he has something else to focus on."

I remember this rather horrible movie about a robbery or something. Halfway through this film, one of the robbers tied this guy up and cut off his ear with a straight edge razor. This man put on some music and started to dance around the victim. He really did dance. At the time I really wanted to reach through the TV screen, grab this clown and murder the fucker. Yet, here I am, holding my own razor and wondering if I too should put some music on in the background.

It must be the camera. It changes you, turns you into an entertainer. I'm sure that if that camera hadn't  been there in that movie, that man would not have danced around like an idiot. Oh no, the cunt would have done his job without any pissing about.

I leant over the man's body and sliced open his chest, using the classic T-shape, adopted by morticians around the globe. This theory might explain why the sight of myself did not unblock the torrent of suppressed memories. How could it when I did not recognise the actions of my celluloid facsimile?

I turned to the camera. “Donnie, in times past, criminals were Hung drawn and quartered. This involved hanging the person until they nearly choked then taking them down and pulling out all their internal organs." I smiled. "To save time I decided to skip the first stage."

His intestine had already burst through the slit and had slivered down his side. This didn't surprise me. It made sense that a guy who didn't look after himself or his property wouldn't be able to control his internal organs either. I peeled back the two flaps and pushed my hand inside the warm, wet organs. I curled my fingers around something very slippery and pulled.

Even with the tape, the man's abrupt muffled shriek caused me to pause. I guess that me fiddling about inside his body was more painful than a ripped off a toenail. I smiled to myself, who'd a thought that? After a brief struggle, I managed to pull out most of his steaming guts. Blood, bile, and other Unidentifiable fluids mixed in with the rubbish around the shuddering man's naked body.

I stood up. It would be a complete bastard to clean this up but I had no intention of doing such a thing. I left the dying man and went back into the kitchen to grab something that I noticed on my first trip to this house.

“There you are!” I bent down and pulled out a large bottle of white spirit, hiding behind a large ceramic casserole dish which still contained the remains of the last meal. I hid my disgust. This man was beyond vile. My annoyance that people like him were allowed to breed quickly vanished when I discovered another plastic container right at the back of the cupboard. I had no clue as to the contents but that didn't matter. I unscrewed the white cap and gave it a cursory sniff. I still hadn't a clue what it was but those fumes did confirm that it was flammable.

Laden with my goodies, I made my way across the tiles. Just like earlier, I found myself wanting to giggle like some naughty schoolboy up to no good. What was wrong with me? It had to be the camera that was doing it. Then again, maybe it was because for the first time in the past couple of days I actually felt happy and in control again.

The elation lasted precisely up to the point where I walked out of the kitchen.

I almost dropped the two cartons when the sound of footsteps drifted down the stairway. I jerk my head towards the ceiling. Whoever it was, they were right above my head, in Donnie's old bedroom. How could this be? There was nobody else in here. I checked.

That drowsing influence raised its fucking head and I swear that I could now hear maniacal laughter at the back of my mind. My instinct was to leave the cartons on the floor, grab a carving knife and go gut the fucker who dared to interrupt my work.

The footsteps above me faded away. Whoever was up there had gone into another room. My hands stayed around the handles and I made a point of turning away from one wicked looking knife with a leather handle just lying on the counter-top next to the sink full of filthy crockery.

Fuck my instinct and fuck the person upstairs. I was here to complete one task and that was exactly what I intended to do. Walking past the stairs and back into the living room was probably one of the most difficult things I had done in my life.

I planted the containers next to the man's legs, a couple of inches away from the wet mess spreading around his body. I took one glance at his slack face, not giving a shit if he was alive or dead anymore. My gaze settled upon the living room door frame and the steps beyond.

If I had followed my instincts, I knew for a fact that I wouldn't remember any more of this night. I picked up the first container and poured a small amount of the pale yellow fluid into the man's open cavity. Judging from the sizzling noise and the rising white smoke, this stuff, whatever it was, could be acidic. I no longer cared, as long as it burned.

I emptied the full contents into the gaping wound then picked up the next bottle and repeated the action. As I emptied the last of the white spirit, there was this humming noise buzzing in my ear. It took me a moment to realise that it came from me. I was humming the same song that I heard in that stupid movie.

The man had stopped moving a few moments ago but I don't think he had yet to expire. I hoped not anyway. I wanted him to feel this. I picked up my tools, dropped them in the bag, grabbed the camera and slowly backed out of the room. Once I was past the threshold, I took a box of matches from the bag, lit one and tossed it towards him. My eyes and his watched the tiny flickering light gracefully arc into the inside of his guts.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I had exclusive front rows seats for the biggest event to occur on Bailey street for over seventy years. Apparently, my fire had finished off what the German bombers had failed to complete during the war. His house had gone up like a Roman candle. The flame was obviously hungry as they spread outwards, engulfing the entire row before the first fire engine could arrive on the scene.

Dozens of firefighters, as well as a few rubberneckers from the surrounding streets, passed my car but none of them looked inside, nor did I expect them to. Their gazes were firmly fixed on the burning houses, fake concern surrounded them like stagnant water as they eagerly waited for the authorities to pull another black and crispy body out of the gutted remains.

I guess I should be thankful that the fire had directed their bovine gaze away from the interior of my car as I sat the unclothed with my camera and tripod clutched against my chest. I shivered but I wasn't cold.

It was a further several hours before I found myself at my front door. I knew I drove home but I can't really recall the journey. This wasn't like before, it wasn't a memory loss. I just felt that now familiar malaise settling upon my head and shoulders. I know I should have been angry but I honestly couldn't give a fuck.

My bed beckoned me and I knew that I would not be able to resist its seductive caress for long, so I had to make sure that all my tasks were complete before I gave in to the calling. Donnie was fine if a little hungry. I soon sorted that by raiding the fridge. He ate the strawberries, tub of coleslaw and cocktail sausages like a man who hadn't eaten in days. It was good to see that his appetite had returned.

It wasn't until I reached the bottom of the stairs when I realised that I still hadn't dressed. I shrugged, it was nothing he didn't have. Nevertheless, it did remind me that the bag still needed emptying.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered a small collection of building blocks in the bottom. I smiled to myself, knowing that Donnie would simply love to play with these. I cleared away the rest of the gear, intending to watch my masterpiece in the morning. I even slipped on some clothes before taking the toys up to the boy.

I couldn't believe it when the cunt burst into tears when I threw them on the bed. For his ingratitude, I decided to make him watch my latest movie when I awoke. That would show him. Consequently, I climbed into bed, in a foul mood.

---

Almost a year had passed since the girl had run away and we threw Tommy's body into the pond. David now believed that Tommy and the girl both escaped the house and we're now fucking each other every night while giggling at David's lack of intelligence. I confess that with only the big idiot to annoy, I might have gone a little over the top with trying to mould him to my liking

My conditioning had not exactly gone to plan but that hadn't been my fault. Convincing the idiot about Tommy leaving only took a few weeks. Explaining that I should have the larger food portions took a little longer. David always expected the most food. He thought it was his right because he was the first. Despite his seemingly unshakeable conviction, the big idiot was no match for my silver tongue.

Perhaps, he might have lived a bit longer if mum hadn't decided that it was now time for David to start wearing clothes and to begin the foraging initiation. She announced that David was no longer a boy, that he was no longer evil.

From that point, my everyday life became almost intolerable. The promotion went straight to his head. The fucker's bad behaviour even regressed to the time from before, when the fat cunt used to beat the shit out of me every day, much to the amusement of the woman. I had no intention of allowing him to disrespect me. I knew something would break, sooner rather than later.

I had no idea that it would be him who'd make the first move.

Why I awoke at such an early hour was a complete mystery. I opened my eyes and saw the dawn light struggling to shine through the heavy Brown curtains. My first instinct was to close my eyes and tell my stupid mind to wake me up at a more reasonable hour.

Seconds later, I was praising my mind instead of cursing it as the sound of heavy breathing coming from above me pushing my instinct of self-preservation into high gear. I rolled out of my bed and scrambled to my feet and ran for the bedroom door.

Before running out and into the hallway, I looked over my shoulder to find David leering at me. He had shed every item of clothing and judging from his excitement, the big fat cunt was just about to fucking rape me.

A deep bear-like growl left his throat before David came after me. I shot down the stairs and ran into the kitchen, intending to get out of the house. I heard his heavy footsteps before I reached the door. I'll admit that for the first time in ages, I was scared, as well as angry. The very thought of me running from that brain-dead bastard made me burn with shame.

The keys were not in the door, nor were they on the brass hook by the side of the door-frame. I wildly looked on every surface, desperately biting down on the panic as the sound of the huge boy's feet echoed along the hallway.

His shadow appeared before his. By this time, I knew I wasn't going to get out of here so I pulled open the cutlery drawer, intending to grab the largest knife. I couldn't fucking believe it when I found it completely bare. My hands dropped to my side and my heart jumped into my throat when David entered the kitchen. His trademark giggling now caused me to piss myself in fear.

The big boy looked down at the dark wet patch spreading across my crotch. His giggling stopped. “You are supposed to do that in the toilet.” David's fist encircled his solid cock. “I'm going to enjoy splitting you in two, James.”

He moved forward two paces and started to giggle again when I picked up the kettle.

“Oh, that's funny. That's fucking hilarious. Are you going to make me a cup of tea or hit me with it?” David snorted. “No strawberries for you, James. Did you like my little trick?” He reached down and picked up something from behind the hallway door.

I didn't believe this. I had run straight past the door keys!

The mocking face changed back to the one of lust. He ran at me. I threw the kettle as hard as I could. It hit his shoulder and just bounced away. It didn't even slow him down. I screamed when he grabbed my shoulders, his hard fingers sank into my flesh before he spun me around.

He slammed my head into the kitchen top then pulled down my pyjama bottoms.  “I'm going to fuck you, I'm going to fuck you hard, little boy.”

David kicked my legs apart.

“No!” I moaned. “Please don't do this. Stop!” I yelled out mum which got me another head bounce off the counter surface.

“She isn't going to help you, James. I've already done her. I've been fucking her all night. She's too soft now. In fact, I might have made her stop breathing. Not sure about that. Don't care either way. I have you now.”

I had seconds left before I suffered more pain than I had ever lived through. It would make the time from before feel like a fucking picnic! “Wait, David. Wait. This is going to hurt.”

He laughed out loud.  “Course it's going to fucking hurt, that's one of the reasons why I'm doing it.”

David managed to spread my cheeks with one hand. I almost passed out in shock when I felt his cold, slimy hardness press hard against my clenched hole. “No, it'll hurt you, David!” I screamed. His hot breath tickled the hairs on my back as he tried to push that rod further inside me.

“Remember Tommy?” I screamed. “Oh God, please, come on, David. Remember Tommy. It wouldn't go in, we had to make it all slippery for you. That was fun, David.” I managed to turn my head and forced out a painful grin. “Remember how you enjoyed that? You had fun there, didn't you!”

The big man ceased his attempts. He frowned. “You used a big word and yeah, you cut him and made it easier!”

“We can do the same again. You got rid of all the knives because you are way smarter than me now but I'm sure we can use something else.” He let go of my head. It looked as though something had become lodged inside that great big empty, brother raping head of his. “What about tomato sauce? That's the same colour and just as slippery.”

David balled up his fists. He stared straight at me. Something in there had indeed become unstuck.

“You told me he went away. You said they both went away.” He paused. “Only they didn't. You killed them. You killed them both!” David roared.

Before he could do any more damage, I smacked him. This time, my aim was true. My open palm slapped that huge, slimy cock. He roared again and reach for me. I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and gave it a savage twist before throwing my body between his legs.

The dropped keys were only a couple of inches from my outstretched fingers. I reached for them only to find his large paws had managed to grab hold of my ankle and this time, it didn't matter how hard I kicked him with my free leg, the fucker would not let go of me.

David pulled me across the kitchen tiles and back through his legs, he was going to try to put me back in the same position. His mumbling and snot filled growls made me go utterly cold. He was going to fucking kill me now!

Cold metal brushed against my fingers. I didn't even ask how they could be within my grasp, I just reached for them, curled my fist around them before blindly lashing out. The Yale key caught the back of David's ankle. He yelled out and I felt drops of his warm blood splash onto my thigh. It didn't stop him from pulling back. I yelled myself before slamming that key into the hole I'd already tore open.

This time, the bastard did fucking stop. He spun his top half and reached for my head. His sausage-sized fingers were inches from my face when I gave that key a savage turn before ripping it out.

He staggered into the edge of the kitchen top before his bare feet slipped on the pool of blood pissing from the leg wound. I managed to get clear before the giant crashed onto the tiles. He'd fallen but he sure as hell wasn't out. I knew from experience that David could take a huge amount of punishment, meaning I could ill afford to crawl into a corner and wrap my arms around my folded up legs, which is exactly what I wanted to do.

I needed to get out of the house!

Coming to grips that this monster beside me was no longer the big dumb brute whom I could control hurt me far more than the superficial pain caused by David. As I jumped over his groaning form and hurried over to the locked door, I honestly believed that despite mother's fucking dabbling, I could have still brought my pet back under heel. That will never happen, not now. The situation had gone too far.

I pushed the gore covered key into the lock and turned. There could only be one outcome now. David had to join Tommy. I felt such sadness over this decision, mainly because it felt as though I had failed. I should have foreseen that his chemical imbalance would eventually overpower what little logical thought he had in that head of his.

The warm air hit me in the face when I pulled open the door. I turned around and sighed at the sight of David managing to get onto his elbows. He looked straight at me but there was nothing in that expression that came close to recognition.

I decided that killing David with the axe, stored in the garage, was probably my best option. Apart from the old shovel, leaning against the side of the house, there was nothing else I could use to end his life. There was some rope in there as well. That would come in useful as I sure as hell couldn't move his body without help.

I walked around the side of the house, enjoying the heat from the flagstones warming the souls of my feet. It felt good to be outside. In the past few months since killing Tommy, I think I could count the number of times that I had left the house on one finger. There were times when I did miss the goon. We spent a lot of time in the garden before the arrival of the girl fucked up everything.

I had to pass by the lake to reach the garage. This was a task that I did not look forward to. Even though I'd left the house since his death, I haven't been anywhere near his final resting place.

Instead of looking straight ahead, I turned my gaze upward, towards the top window and found myself looking straight at our mum. I almost turned around and ran back to the kitchen until I saw that she wasn't looking at me at all. She was staring at the lake. Curiosity overwhelmed me and I lowered my head.

The no rain and the hot summer months had turned our lake into a shallow bowl of black mud. Bloated bodies of frogs and fish lay close to the edge while in the middle, crowning this grotesque mud cake was Tommy, at least, what was left of him. Wildlife and weather had not been kind to his rotten, stinking body.

That is what had drawn her attention. She must have been aware of it for some time as well. It did make me wonder why nothing was said. Her eyes flickered to me. She held my gaze for a full ten seconds before looking back to Tommy.

Even now, after his death, that mad old cow still preferred Tommy and David to me. This made me burn up with hatred for all her and for those two selfish, ungrateful bastards. I was glad that Tommy was dead. I was glad that David would soon join him.

I left the witch to staring at his corpse, intending to give her something else to stare at pretty soon. This was the burden of being the middle child. Mum should have stopped at me.

It took me moments to get the axe and to dig out the rope. I even gave her a little wave as I passed her window on my way back.

David had not moved since I left. He hadn't died though, I could see his chest rise and fall. This was good. Although I did want him to die, I wanted him to last a bit longer. He groaned when I entered the kitchen and just for that second, that fear returned. This upset me and pissed me off as I believed that I had put all of my extreme emotions back to bed. I approached the giant, turned the axe head around and hit him on the forehead with flat end. A loud satisfying crack sounded like music to my ears. He would not be getting up now.

I made a loop with the rope, put that over his ankle and pulled. His body slid across the tiles like it was on castors. “The big word, you dim cunt, was lubrication and it is what I'm using to transport you to your grave.”

The difficult part lay in front of me, or behind me, as dragging this heavy load to where I wanted it would be no easy task. I reached the door and was able to pull both his legs through until the metal runner snagged the tops of his thighs.

I refused to give up. Just behind me was an ancient oak tree. Tommy and I always used to climb up into its boughs and hide from David. I sighed in fondness for that brief time when I was actually happy. Still, this didn't mean that I couldn't be happy again. First, I needed to get this job done. I wrapped the rope around the tree's thick trunk then pulled with all my might, grinning in triumph when I heard David's body flop out and onto the path.

There was more blood and upon closer inspection, I saw that the edge of the metal runner had cut into the back of David's arse cheek. Not that I gave a shit about that. All that mattered to me was the hard part was out of the way. I pulled his naked body along the path inch by inch, idly wondering if there would be any skin left on the underside of his body by the time I had finished. I turned around to find that I now had an audience of one and she had finally begun to show some emotion. This pleased me immensely. Once I reached the edge of the lake, I  untied the rope from David, opened up the loop and threw that towards the wrapped up body.

It took several attempts but eventually the loop caught on one of the rocks I'd used to tie down Tommy. She was banging on the window now. I ignored her while I pulled Tommy through the wet mud. I even started to whistle the theme from one of the cartoon shows that I was allowed to watch.

Once the body was on the edge of the lake, I made one final adjustment before finishing. I took the axe, placed the edge it against David's mouth, picked up a brick and hammered it down. Most of his front teeth shot down his throat but this didn't bother me too much as I only wanted to make sure that the big idiot couldn't shut his mouth.

I dragged the wrapped up body over to David and managed to place it over his naked body. It sure did feel really weird, like Tommy's flesh had turned into a semi-liquid, slid off the bones and sloshed around inside the blanket. I would soon find out.

I lifted up the thickest bit of the lump and dropped it on David's face before picking up the axe and slitting the fabric open.

The stench that burst from that hole threw me back. It was strong enough to burn the skin inside my nostrils. I retreated to a safe distance, held my hand over my mouth and nose and watched all that black, lumpy, foul smelling gunk slither down David's throat.

I left them like that and went back to the house. I decided to bury them together somewhere in the garden but that could wait until I had caught up on my sleep.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Today was to be an exciting day as it marked the true proper beginning of Donnie's conditioning and I was determined not to allow my recent mental slips ruin was should be a momentous occasion. The sleep certainly helped. I must have been dead to the world for almost eleven hours.

I had awoken fully refreshed and alert with none of that weird drowsing influence bothering me. I even found myself whistling while cooking up a hot breakfast for us. We had eggs, bacon, sausages and beans. Even with such simple foods, I know how to make them taste like a king's banquet. Donnie had probably not tasted a hot breakfast so fine.

He should be grateful for my presence. Without me, the poor, half-starved boy would be making do with whatever that drunken father of his could give him. Something cold, greasy and unhygienic, I shouldn't wonder.

The little shit wasn't grateful. He wasn't grateful at all. This, obviously earned him a beating. Putting him over my knee and slapping his bare arse a dozen times wasn't how I wanted our relationship to go but kids need discipline. I didn't allow this to ruin our day together, oh no. I was far too used to the needs of my Franco to allow this to happen. I simply sat him back down on the floorboards in front of my armchair and we continued to watch me murder his parents.

We watched right up to the point where I created a mini volcano in his father's guts. He cringed again, which resulted in me squeezing his shoulders hard. I left the boy on the floor, picked up his plate of uneaten food and took it into the kitchen where I scraped it into a plastic container. The boy will have this for his lunch. I do not waste food.

In retrospect, I might have been a little too harsh with the boy. Was I expecting a miracle on the first day? Perhaps I was. Perhaps I expected providence to provide me with an associate already on the path to enlightenment, a boy who required little training, a boy who did not have too much evil inside his soul.

I should have known that it wouldn't be so easy. The boy had not moved from in front of the armchair. I leant back and peered into the living room. His stiff posture and his unblinking eyes suggested that he'd gone into shock. This was a very good sign, and I really shouldn't be so disappointed. It took the other Francos weeks to reach this stage, so the change from photographs to video was definitely the way ahead.

Once the food was ready, I carried it into the living room, picked up the boy, tucked his still body under my arm and took him over to his future place. The area where all the Francos used to stay. It seemed a little strange planting him in the area without the photographs above his head. This is something I would just have to live with. After all, this was the new way.

I put the container in front of him, before kneeling down and fastening his ankles to the manacles. The poor mite was really shaking so I ruffled his hair to show that I was no longer mad at him. Looking back, I guess I should have fed the pair of us before we binge watched the double bill. I thought he wasn't doing so bad, which is why I left him when my cinema namesake left the woman's house. I'm calling this 'the missing period' for want of a better name.

My armchair beckoned me but I resisted. The day had only just started and if I sat down,  I probably would not get up again. I blinked rapidly, not too sure where that thought came from, considering just how energetic I felt this morning. I put it down to a residual trace of weirdness stemming from yesterday and promptly cast it aside. There would be no more armchair sitting for me until later tonight.

Judging from the boy's frantic scratching, those manacles around his ankles must be itching something terrible. I wanted to reassure him, to tell the boy not to be too concerned as all the others suffered this too. It took them all a good month to get used to the metal. Obviously, me pandering to this little shit was not going to happen. For one, to become Franco, he so needed to toughen up. I was helping him harden up on the inside, the rest he would have to do. The second point was obvious.

I did not want him to think that there had been others before him.

He would have to endure the discomfort. I smiled, what he needed was something else to occupy his mind!

I opened my mouth, about to tell him that he'd soon be able to watch a triple bill but nothing came out. I turned my head towards the television. While in my mind, I went over my plan to grab the boy's uncle, to wipe that vacant smirk off his face by cutting it off, I saw Donnie, weeping, rocking and shivering whilst I was gone. Alone in this silent house with nothing but the remains of his breakfast for company. I couldn't take him with me, that was obvious.

“Would you like me to put some cartoons on, Donnie?”

He didn't respond but that was okay. This was expected. Cartoons would be better than silence. This way, Donnie could, at least, calm down a little before I brought back the next video. I'll admit, I couldn't fucking wait to get Bennie. Oh yeah, I was going to cut his face alright, right before I peeled the flesh away from his skull. It has been such a long time since I had performed such a procedure. Before that happened, I wanted to sever his toes and fingers, maybe even fuck him as well.

I slipped the bag off the back of the chair and opened it to ensure I had everything I needed. As expected, the inventory was complete. I am prepared for anything.

This is certainly a talent of me which I do not keep hidden.

One more item needed to go into the bag. I couldn't exactly torture Bennie without filming it. I walked over to the television, gave my armchair a dirty look before I dropped to my knees in front of the screen. My hands reached for the video player then I paused. I looked around at Donnie who had stopped trying to scratch off all his skin and was now poking his finger into the cold congealed goop in the container.

Just how exactly is allowing that spoiled brat to watch a few cartoons while I was hard at work going to help toughen him up? Without the pictures to remind him, he could quite easily end up regressing. The blood drained from my face. I had not considered this eventuality when I changed over to video.

He had no permanent reminder. I had fucked up. I could not believe that this was happening to me. I had well and truly messed up everything. This was a fucking nightmare! No wonder my past self was haunting me in my dreams!

I find myself walking towards the boy. I do not know how the hammer appeared in my left hand but I was aware that I would not be able to put it back into the bag without it tasting blood. The boy's fingers were coated in bean juice. I stood over him, knowing full well that Donnie was doing this on purpose. I shrank away from my form but his theatrics did not fool me. I knew that the little shit was just putting it on.

“This is all your fault,” I growled. The hammer appeared to take on a life of its own. It obviously smelled the anticipation.

It wasn't the only one either. My blood was up. Thinking about what I planned to do to Bennie had put my hormones into overdrive. He might be acting but Donnie's performance would have won Oscars. He really did look like the helpless, shaking, naked little boy that he was pretending to be. “You have such pretty eyes,” I whispered.

I pulled him up, and spun his body around. My hardness ached to be let loose. The urge to fuck the boy drove me to the point of borderline insanity. Donnie moaned out a plea. Somewhere in that mumbled sentence, I think I heard him asking me not to do this.

The hammer was the one which helped to calm down the hormones. It was the one who explained that If I did go through with the rape, he'd be no good to me anymore. He would never become the Franco.

I grabbed the boy's wrist and slammed it against the wall. He howled in agony, which is exactly what I needed him to do as it made him open up his fist. I pushed his wrist onto the floorboards, ensuring his bean finger was flat against the wood. He whimpered and begged but I wasn't going to listen to any of that nonsense. All I heard was my hammer, urging me to get this done and I could not deny the tool any longer.

The hammer slammed into the boy's fingertip and judging from the fleshy red mess that splattered out, one little boy would not be stirring his breakfast with that digit ever again. The hammer fell silent and so did the boy. Donnie had fainted.

"No cartoons for you, boy," I muttered. Not that I was going to allow him to watch them anyway. Thanks to the intervention of my hammer, my thoughts had returned to normal. It felt good to be in control again as my clear thinking gave me one hell of an idea.

I left the boy, clean my hammer and popped it back into the bag before I returned to the television. After a few seconds of fiddling about, I found the loop function on the video player. Who needs pictures when you have video?

Donnie had started to come around, which was good. The boy was proving to be such a hardy little boy. I got the video ready and stood up. 'Donnie, I have put the video on loop, so you will have the pleasure of watching me murder your parents over and over." I chuckled. "I don't think you will have to watch through it more than twice before I return."

I'm not sure whether he heard my words as his destroyed finger seemed to occupy every scrap of attention. Not that this mattered, he would find out soon enough. "I'll be returning with your uncle Bennie. He'll be alive and well. At least for the beginning. You see, as you so enjoy acting, I thought you might enjoy a live show."

I grabbed my bag, pressed play and turned up the volume before leaving the boy to moan, cry and whimper.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I drove through the town, heading towards Bennie's residence in a state of pure calm. Even when a blonde woman ran out in front of the car, causing me to slam on the brakes, my mind was as still as a tranquil pond. I could have quite easily got out of the car and bashed her head against the lamppost next to her, before dragging her unconscious body around the back and stuffing her in the boot. There was nobody around and I knew now that providence was looking out for me so nobody would have witnessed the incident.

She glared at me to suggest that her not looking where she was going was somehow my fault before hurrying to the other side of the road. I just sent her a genial smile before continuing on my journey.

If the hammer had still been talking to me then the outcome could have been so much different. Messier, certainly. I waited until the woman was out of sight before continuing. Even with such an ugly personality, she wasn't that bad looking and taking her back to my house to perform in front of Donnie did have appeal.

I will admit. Killing women satisfies me more than killing men. I think that is the fault of my mother. She is the sole reason why I have turned out the way I did. I almost slowed down again. Where did that thought come from? I managed to open the bag, on the passenger, just to make sure that the hammer was still silent. I wouldn't put it past it to find a way to implant alien thoughts into my mind. I would have to keep a close watch on that particular tool.

The rest of the journey passed without any further incident, apart from just one moment just before I turned into the street where Bennie lived. That dread Drowsing Influence almost managed to slip its claws into me by asking how was it even possible that some lifeless household tool could suddenly acquire sentience. Admittedly, this did cause me a moment of uncertainty. Either, I was showing the first sign of insanity by believing I could hear voices or that providence had found a channel in which to communicate to me directly. I was not going mad, that much I did know. Only people with weak minds did that, and I certainly was not weak.

I parked a few doors from Bennie's house and casually walked down the street, even smiling at a passing old woman. The woman smiled back, she showed no indication that a higher life-form, a hunter and killer of her wretched kind had just passed her. Just like the woman who had almost hit my car, she had no idea just how close she had come to ending up in the boot of my car.

I whistled a theme from a cartoon while I walked up Bennie's driveway. I blended in perfectly. I knew that, even if I dragged his struggling form out of his house and forced the fucker into the back of my car, witnesses would be reluctant to say with any certainty that the incident happened.

The door was locked. This one was a little more safety conscious than Donnie's father. Not that it made much difference. The lock wasn't too difficult to pick. There aren't many locks that I cannot open. This is one of my hidden talents.

The only life I found in that bloody house were two orchids in the bedroom and a cup of green mould left on the window sill in his spare bedroom. Of him, there was absolutely no trace. I stood in the middle of the bastard's living room, glaring at a picture above his fireplace or who, I guessed to be his parents and I...

---

...I am not sure how long I was out. Minutes, I hope. Bennie's living room focused into view, only this was not the same place as I remembered. It looked as though the insides had suffered through a hurricane and nothing had weathered well. Had I done all this?

My roving gaze shifted away from the splintered and broken chairs, the smashed television, and the destroyed welsh dresser. I looked at where that picture of his parents should have been above the fireplace.

Deep scores in the plaster and shredded wallpaper were the only things there now. I heard police sirens in the distance and I knew that they were coming here. My rational Zen mind had pushed away what had remained of that Drowsing Influence and regained control. I knew I had to get out of here before their arrival but I could not do this until I had found that fucking picture. Why this was critical, I do not know, as it obviously made no sense but, nevertheless, my legs would not move towards the front door no matter how hard I tried.

I stepped over smashed plates, ripped up envelopes and bits of wallpaper. What the fuck had possessed me to devolve into some hormonal, possibly deranged maniac? It made no sense. I picked up a paperback and flipped through the pages. Every sheet in that book was ripped. The sirens were getting louder and I felt the first signs of panic taking up lodgings in my gut.

How could I find anything in this devastation? I found my legs weakening and I dropped to the floor. At first, it felt like that Drowsing Influence had won, that the police would burst through that door at any minute and find me lying in among all this ruin.

I should have known better than to believe that It had returned. Zen was in full control. Now that my nose was closer to the ground, I could smell something which was very familiar. I carefully pushed back a pile of white, fluffed up cushion stuffing and saw myself staring at the corner of the picture frame. My nose cautioned me to be careful and I heeded its warning. With the skill of a surgeon, I peeled back a section of sofa fabric and there it was.

His picture of his beloved parents smiled back at me, at least they would if I could see through that curl of fresh human shit, laid smack on their faces. All motive power returned and I picked up the picture, held it level and ran up the stairs. I glanced out of the landing window as I rushed past. Two patrol cars were now heading up the street.

Would one of them go around the back to cut off my escape, or did that only happen in cop shows? I reached the bathroom and dropped the faecal matter into the toilet. It all came off in one solid lump, I gave the glass a wipe before rushing out of the room. They were in the house. I heard two voices. They would check every room, I had no doubt.

I placed the picture on the man's dresser before walking over to the window. I could quite easily escape from here. There was soft grass to cushion my fall and I saw nobody outside. Both police officers had entered through the front door. I did not follow through with this plan as I refused to run and cower like a coward.

They were already heading up the stairs and this would be the first room they checked, that much I knew. I could not escape now even if I wanted to, and yet this did not trouble me for providence, although was now my constant companion, she could not govern my every action. I was in control, not her. After all, it was she who put me into this mess in the first place. If she hadn't been so weak to allow that fucking Drowsing Influence to take temporary control then I would now be back home, already showing Bennie a bad time. I might have even got away if she hadn't made me look for that stupid picture.

“I might have got away if it hadn't been for that pesky picture,” I whispered.

“Did you hear something, Jeff?”

The floorboards outside this room creaked. Two of them meant they'd each check a room. That suited me. I opened the window as wide as it would go then tapped my fingers on top of his parent's picture from the dresser, took up position behind the door and waited for the inevitable.

I did not have long to wait before the door swung inwards. Just as I knew, the policeman, whose name was not Jeff, headed straight for the window.

With his attention and thoughts directed at what I might have done in some parallel universe, he was not aware that this room had an additional occupant until his entire world exploded. I slammed my boot up between his nicely spread legs then followed this by smashing g his face into the wall. I heard the satisfying crunch of bone but this wasn't enough. I needed this one out of the way before the other one could call for help. I grabbed his hair pulled him back then savagely chopped his throat. Bubbles of blood spurred from the sides of his mouth, the sight of which certainly helped me to start to put my mind pieces back into place.

"There's nothing in here," shouted his companion. "What about you?"

Oh, bless. He was even trying to reply. The policeman's mouth opened and shut like a beached fish. It was very funny to watch.

I couldn't imagine what must be going through his mind right now. Well, actually, I could.

Run, Jeff. Run for your life. There's a maniac in here who kill you. Call for back - up.  Oh God. I don't want to die. Shit, Jeff. Run. Run now. He's just taken my baton.

I thanked the dying copper for his imaginary commentary before taking his baton and taking up position behind the door again. If this carried on, I'd have to start decorating behind this door to make the place more intimate. I gripped the baton and listened to the other policeman's shallow breathing. He was on the other side of this door, probably staring at his companion while wondering what was going on. This one wasn't as impulsive.

"Help me!" I cried, higher in my voice a couple of octaves. "Oh God, no don't."

As I predicted, the gullible fool run into the room whereupon, I cracked him hard on the back of the head. He hit the floor like a sack of dropped potatoes.

"I would have got away with it if it hadn't been for you pesky policemen," I said before getting to work on them.

---

Jefferson Walsh awoke exactly twenty minutes later. During the time that Sleeping Beauty had been in dreamy land,  I'd been most industrious. Before I got to work, I just had to see who I'd snared. His phone told me everything I wanted to know about Jefferson and more besides. For a start he was married and had two daughters. Both in their early teens. He had quite a rather large circle of friends as well. What Brought a smile was the discovery of Jefferson's rather steamy affair with a young and attractive WPC. The dirty bastard even snapped off a couple of selfish while fucking her up the arse.

I sent those images to everyone on his contact list. The thought of his beautiful daughters finding those in their inboxes made me very hard. Solid enough that it only took a few tugs before I came. My thick spunk landed on the tip of Jefferson's nose. It looked like the copper had a snotty nose. I found that very funny as well.

By the time my new friend opened his dazed eyes, I had already made myself respectable. I sat on an upturned milk crate while enjoying the sunlight which warmed the inside of Bennie's shed.

Jefferson didn't even notice the ejaculate. I guess this was due to me tying his arms, legs, and neck to his dead buddy's associated body parts. It also probably had something to do with finding himself in the garden shed and teetering on the edge of a four-foot deep pit that I had found under the floorboards.

When I catch up with Bennie, I do intend to ask him exactly why the fuck he had a grave-shaped hole under his shed.

“Now then, Jefferson. Welcome back to the land of the living, for however brief your stay might be. I bet you are wondering what is going to happen to you?” He offered me no reply as I had taped up his mouth. “Well, as you have already figured out, your pal is totally dead. This is a shame as he sounded like a better person than you.”

I took out his phone and snapped off a couple of shots to show Donnie later on. I might also send these to everybody on his contact list as well but that will have to wait for a few days, until I am sure he is dead.

“Are you aware of what happens to the human body once the spirit has buggered off? I'll tell you anyway. The corpse bloats. The bacteria in the guts breaks down the body's tissues which releases gas. Now, can you imagine what will happen to you when that body tied to you inflates like a big fucking balloon?” He was really struggling now.

“Oh, don't worry, this won't happen for at least a week and by that time, you might already be dead.” I stood up, tipped an imaginary hat before rolling them into the hole.

I replaced the floorboards, pushed the table back over them and left the shed, making sure to lock up after. The sun was now beating down. It really was a beautiful day. It annoyed me that Bennie wasn't home but it wouldn't take much effort to track him down. After all, he was a creature of habit.

As I made my way back to the car and gave the house one final look. I could not believe the state of Bennie's place. He really did live like a pig. No wonder he was still single.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I left my brother's bodies under my mother's window for a further two weeks to punish her. The animals must have thought all their birthdays had come at once at the sight of so much meat. The crows fought the foxes during the day while the badgers ate their fill once the moon came up. Not many touched Tommy but they sure did enjoy David. There wasn't that much left by the time it came to finally put the pair of them into the ground.

My life had settled down to a routine of quiet work and learning once I became the last boy in the household. Mum stayed out of my way, only venturing out of her room to forage twice a week and that generally happened when she thought I was sleeping. I used to watch her fragile form pick her way through the garden, always stopping at the spot where I put the boys before disappearing into the night.

Working in our large garden ate up most of my day. I spent endless hours either turning over the soil, weeding or sowing seeds for the next years harvest. It was back-breaking work but it helped to keep my mind occupied. I spent the hours after dark working through the collection of books in the house library.

My two favourite subjects turned out to be anatomy, both animal and human and ancient history. It was from these books where I learnt how to build a basic snare. This device came in most useful as by this time, her trips out into the outside world were becoming rather flaky. She hardly ever returned with anything useful, a couple of tinned peaches or perhaps a few old potatoes were the best I could hope for. As for fresh meat, she never brought that back home anymore.

In the first week alone, the snares that I had set on the outskirts of our property rewarded me with two plump rabbits as well as a black and white male cat. I admit that both the skinned cat and one of the rabbits went into a pot along with some of the vegetables from the garden. The food in that old metal pan kept me going for almost a week.

I did manage to curb my greed and place the remaining animal in the freezer for when the winter set in. By that time, I hoped to have a few small animals all ready to defrost and consume.  I wasn't sure whether she saw my new skill as a sign or that the woman was going to dramatically change anyway. Just a few days after I ate the last of my stew, she left the house for the last time. Upon her return, the old bitch dropped her foraging bag onto the kitchen table, ordered me to start wearing clothes before running upstairs and into her bedroom. I waited until she slammed her door before looking inside the bag.

It contained soil that stank of rot and a few tiny pieces of bone.

---

In the next few months since that event, it is fair to say that my transition did not go quite as I imagined it. The role of the forager was far more complex than anything that I had ever set out to do. Of course, it is also fair to say that after the first year, I was more accomplished in this job than she had ever been, and this was without instruction.

I only took from houses what would not be missed, a few notes from a packed wallet dropped on a coffee table, I took meat and small bags of veg from a freezer, perhaps a couple of tinned food from someone's cupboard. I never visited a house more than once and I instinctively knew which homeowner invested in alarms, whether electronic or animal. Locks proved to be of no concern as a couple of books in the library showed you how to pick even the most difficult of locks.

I stopped questioning how I could become so proficient in my new job so quickly. I guess that, unlike most people, I have a talent for picking up skills without much effort.

In that first year, I picked up more than my fair share of hidden talents.

My body changed too. The hard work that I put into maintaining the garden as well as the profusion of teenage hormones surging through me ensured that I grew from a boy into a man within a few months. I did not become as large as David but if he had still been alive, I reckon I could have easily taken him in a fair fight.

I also had my fair share of sex. Granted, it was only with mum but it still counted. Not that she was much use. I still don't think she had recovered from when David raped her in the summer before. To be honest, fucking her felt more like fucking a living corpse as she never ever moved and made a sound when I was in her bedroom. Still, it did help to keep the demons at bay.

---

She died a year later.

I found her lying on the floorboards, beside her bed, her hand still holding a bottle of pills. I had never seen that bottle before. I never brought the woman any drugs. I could only guess that she had stored them from back when she used to leave the house. Seeing her lying there brought no distinct, quantifiable emotion to my surface apart from one of regret, as I now had nothing to fuck.

As I grew bolder in my outside exploration and my contact with other humans became more frequent, I also found that my sexual urges grew more intense until it became the norm for me to fuck this woman twice, sometimes three times a day. I did once wonder if I had caught some kind of hereditary disease, one which turns the late teenage boy into a vile sexual predator, like it had with David.

I stood above the woman's cooling corpse, my gaze travelling up her shapely thighs and for the first time in months I thought about Tommy. I then wished that he was still alive, that I hadn't killed him. Not because I craved company but I know that he would have made the ideal substitute.

The woman still gave me pleasure for a few more days. It wasn't that different from when she was alive. The only real difference was having to use the hair-dryer on her cunt before fucking her. I had to admit defeat after the fourth day, once the flies got into her. She was unceremoniously dumped into the lake.

Her bodily fluids leaking into the ground and contaminating the crops never bothered me as by this time, I was getting everything I needed from outside.

I think her death was the best thing to ever happen as it freed me from her taint. I became a new person, one willing to become more involved with human society. I even began to interact with other people. Of course, I could never become just like my new friends as by this time, I knew that I was special. There were occasions when I felt like a lone wolf in amongst a flock of brainless sheep. Nobody ever suspected this.

It was one of my hidden talents.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Bennie wasn't at the soup kitchen. I asked a couple of the other volunteers and none of them had seen him for a couple of days. Asking Bethany was obviously out of the question as this was her only day off.

As I walked back to the car, a nasty thought wormed its way into my mind and would not leave no matter how hard I tried. What if that sneaky Bennie had somehow managed to charm his way into Bethany's panties. The whole idea sounded so ridiculous. That freak wouldn't be able to get off with such a classy woman. He was about as charming as a squashed slug. Even so, the idea wouldn't leave me alone.

In the end, I even drove over to where Bethany lived and waited outside her house for about half an hour. I did not go inside as if they were together, I'm not sure I would be able to control my actions. I did not give a fuck what happened to Bennie but I did not want to hurt her. Besides, if I did murder the pair of them in a fit of fury, how was I going to further instruct Donnie? Sure, I had the pictures of that policeman but I needed much more than that to help him continue his journey.

Could he be at the burnt out house? I travelled back to the gutted remains, expecting him to be with the silent crowd, looking down at the blackened bricks and charred beams, wailing like a big fucking baby.

There were plenty of people stood around but none of them matched his description. If it hadn't been for the interval with the policemen, I would have been close to losing my temper at this time. That lovely sun, which had been my constant companion all day was beginning to set. Even now, its edge had reached the rooftops.

With my heart heavier than that sinking sun, I admitted defeat and set off for home. I might not have achieved the goal I set out but I could at least take some comfort in knowing that I did not return empty handed.

We were all due to work at the soup kitchen tomorrow. I would just have to snag them instead. As I drove through the rush hour traffic, I did think about taking Bethany home instead. I would really like to put her through the paces.

I decided against that, at least for the moment. If I was to take her back, the showing would certainly not be a public one. It would be nice to have Bethany at the house permanently. Coming home to fuck that one would certainly brighten my day. Obviously, I would need to show the woman just how good I am at fucking because once she felt me inside her, she wouldn't want anyone else. This much I know. In fact, she'd probably beg to move in with me.

It would be nice to have another woman in the house again.

I reached the outskirts of my house, got out of the car and stretched my arms and legs. It sure had been a long day and right now, although I was very tired, I know that I needed to eat something. I hadn't realised until leaving the car that apart from the breakfast I made for us, I hadn't eaten.

I made my way through the neglected garden, thinking that perhaps with another adult in the house, I might be able to get the land looking half decent again. I remember how good it once looked.

Donnie would probably want feeding as well. I'd probably have to take a look at that bean finger too. I didn't want it to become infected.

I opened the front door and stopped dead. The house felt completely different. I could not put my finger on what it was but something had been altered in the time that I had been gone. I silently eased the door shut, stood perfectly still and allowed my full senses free rein. It took exactly three seconds to spot what had changed.

There should be a fork lying on that kitchen table, next to the toaster. Somebody else was in the house. It couldn't be Donnie, there is no way that he would be able to get free from those chains.

As I approached the closed door, leading to the living room, another change became noticeable. Somebody had lowered the volume, it should be twice as loud. Any normal person would become scared or at least flustered by this new predicament. Obviously, this did not apply to me. In fact, it almost made up for not finding Bennie. I had a burglar, somebody had taken it upon themselves to try to rob me. This was very exciting. I just wished that I had kept that policeman's baton.

This did not deter me. I simply took one of my many knives instead. I am not too sure how they were reacting to the incarceration of Donnie or the entertainment that I had arranged for him. My gut instinct told me that they probably didn't particularly care. They were only here for my valuables, not to give me any lesson about how to bring up my child. I know this as I saw many strange things when I used to enter other people's houses. They probably turned it down so they would hear the occupant return.

I grinned to myself as I put my hand on the door handle, they obviously didn't take into account that the house they broke into belonged to a monster. I gripped the knife a little too hard. Sweat dripped down my spine. God, this was exciting, it turned out that Donnie would be getting a live showing tonight after all.

I heard a male voice, followed by the sound of a child crying. Were they hurting the boy? The excitement turned to fear as well as fury. How dare they come in here and hurt Donnie! I pushed open the door, ready to kill the first person who dared to challenge me.

I saw Donnie sniffling while a man hunched in front of the boy, desperately trying to take those manacles off Donnie's wrists using the fork. It would have been funny if it wasn't so sad. My day only became complete when the man turned his head to face me and I stared into the terrified face of the man that I had been hunting down all day. Truly, this showed me that providence was looking after me.

“You've bent the prongs now, Bennie,” I admonished. “I sure hope that you're going to buy me a new fork.”

His fear quickly changed to anger. I saw another side of the man. One that I did not much care for. I was so tempted to lunge forward and embed my knife through that hateful mouth just for the sake of shutting him up. I didn't though. After all, he wasn't that far off the mark with his insults and accusations and I guess that after watching me kill his sister and her ex-husband, he was probably a tad upset with me. This was only natural.

I calmly waited until that mouth stopped vomiting out that stream of abuse, knowing full well that before long, when I had beaten the shit out of him, stripped him naked and was thrusting my cock up his bleeding arse, dear Bennie would be singing a very different tune.

The boy's eyes shifted from me over towards something hiding in the shadows at the back of the room. I followed his gaze and found myself staring at another figure. I dropped the knife in shock as I first thought it was my mum. It's only with the addition of more light when I came face to face with Bennie's travelling companion.

Bethany pointed a taser directly at my chest. She had taken that from the locked storage cupboards back at the soup kitchen. It was there for emergencies, in case the staff encountered trouble which could lead to a fatality. To be honest, I wasn't even sure that it still worked.

I listened to her for a couple of seconds, basically repeating much of what Bennie had accused me of. This was like a dream come true for me. I had them both, exactly where I wanted them. I decided to tie him up first before taking Bethany to my bed. She needed to be taught what would happen to her in the future if she ever pointed a weapon at me again. After administering enough fucking pain to make her eyes bleed, I would then fuck her for the next few hours until she climaxed herself to exhaustion. That combination would ensure that she'd never leave this house ever again. I bent down to pick up my knife, intending to deal with Bennie when she shot me.

The brief moment of indignation blossomed in my mind before my whole world exploded with blinding white light and utter agony.

THIRTY-FOUR YEARS AGO

I am so cold and I miss my mum. My real mum, not that vile woman up there who keeps touching me. It is hard not to cry but I daren't do that in case the noise attracts the attention of the man.

The other boy, the big boy put me in here, a bit back and told me to keep as quiet as I could. I like him. His real name is Simon, bit they call him David. They changed my name too. I'm only supposed to be called James. The last time I said I was Franco, that man beat me until I bled.

He told me that one of the ways he used to block out the terrible things that he did to us was to pretend that your mind was free of your body, that while that horrible bastard raped you, you were actually above them, looking down. He told me that one time, he swore blind that he could hear his own footsteps.

Simon promised me that as soon as that evil man came back, he would do something about him. I don't have a clue what he means but I'm hoping that Simon will kill that evil bastard.

I can hear them just inches above me. Through the cracks in the floorboards, I can see Simon, that horrible woman and him. For the first time since that bastard chased me through that old brickyard close to my house, trapped me inside that huge chimney before his fist knocked me out, the man is actually laughing.

He has a sack over his shoulder and I feel myself going cold. I start to shake, for I know exactly why he is laughing. I recognise that sack as it is the same one that I travelled in. The man lowers it and loosens the top before pulling the material down to reveal a little girl. He rips away the tape and the girl screams, shouting for her mum and dad.  I just hoped that that poor little girl gave that evil man some pain before he dragged her gagged and terrified body to this house of nightmares.

The man laughs again and tells her that from now on, she will be known as Bethany. When she screamed again, he slapped her hard before slinging the girl over his shoulder and taking her out of the room. I knew what lay in store for that poor little girl because he did the exact same thing to me when he first brought me here. I start to cry again and this time, I could not stop myself.

EPILOGUE

Did it bother me to now understand the full truth of my chequered history? Did it upset me to finally find out that my attempts to brutalise and cast my kidnapped boys into crude caricatures of the boy who existed before my abduction was just my subconscious attempting to come to terms with my aberrant upbringing?

No, not at all.

I sat still, pretending to still be out while that silly woman put forward that bizarre theory along with many others while they waited for the police. They must have taken the keys for the manacles from my body while I was really under, freed the boy and put me in his place.

Bennie was now shouting at Bethany, demanding to know why she hadn't gone to the authorities as soon as she found out that I still lived.

I would have so loved to have heard her answer but the woman left the living room, saying that she could hear the sirens. I could hear them as well.

After a couple of seconds, I heard him follow her out I opened one eye. I had perhaps two to three minutes to get out of these chains and find a suitable hiding place before the police arrived. I don't doubt that they would be arriving fully armed and alert because the phone that I stole from that policeman was on the fireplace.

My heart beat at a steady rate while I reached for that dropped fork. The police would not find me shackled up like some turkey waiting to be killed, nor would they find me in this house, no matter how hard they searched. I know how to make myself invisible.

It is one of my many hidden talents.

THE END

Table of Contents

- SNATCHED
- An extreme horror tale
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN