“You understand I never wanted this to happen, I never planned for me to become what I have ended up being.” The shadow seemed to shimmer before Johns eyes, whatever the drug was that coursed through his systems seemed to dull his vision and muscle control, but not his fear.
“This is very odd for me, to actually talk to someone about what I do and you need to understand how special that makes you, very special indeed.” The shadow continued to talk as it paced before him. The voice itself was calm, with no malice or intent, but still the terror was there and a tear ran down John’s cheek.
“I was an accountant believe it or not.” The voice laughed. “Just an average Joe working in an average company, but then the cuts came. I was one of two thousand let go, with no other profession under my belt I applied for an online course. Can you believe it, there was a booklet and everything, even a fake ID card. Well, obviously it wasn’t that good, but it gave me the confidence to complete my first job.” John watched as the shadow sat down before him. It was impossible to believe that he had got past all the building security. But somehow he had, he’d made it to his floor to speak to him, the stories were obviously true, he was the best.
“That first job was messy. I wasn’t proud of what I did, I felt guilty for a long time over his wife, but she just walked in, she’d had nothing to do with the redundancies, but she saw my face, and what else was I to do... What would you have done, John? Do you mind me calling you John? Actually, you can’t answer, so I’ll just presume you’re okay with it. I know your wife calls you Big J but I don’t feel that’s appropriate here.”
John’s attention changed, the fear he felt for himself was quickly replaced by the fact this man not only knew where they lived, but must have been in their bedroom, the shadow seemed to sense the change and walked closer.
“I’m sorry if I stepped over a line, but I promise your wife and child will be safe from me, I don’t do it for free anymore, and they have no value to me. But I had to find out what you knew about me, after the questions you’ve been asking I couldn’t exactly walk passed now could I? I just had to pop up and say hello.”
John could feel drool running down his chin, but that was a good sign. He could feel. Maybe the drug was wearing off, maybe he would be able to get to the emergency button and call for help. He tried to breathe a little quicker, in the hope of flushing his system clean as the shadow continued.
“It turned out you see that I have a natural talent for not being seen. At school I was always the invisible one, the one everyone ignored, that turned out to be my greatest gift. My parents would be proud now. But obviously, they couldn’t be allowed to continue either, they made me weak, vulnerable. That kill was actually easier than I thought.” Keep talking you fool, thought John as he watched his little finger shift slightly on the arm rest of his chair.
“Over the last four years… Wow, to actually say it, it’s quite a short time scale, but yes, over the last four years I’ve completed sixty terminations. Perfectly clean, all untraceable to me…or, so I thought.” The shadow stopped and looked at him and John froze. “I’ve taken the liberty of removing the file you had on me from the computer and the mainframe, and the paper copy from your house, and the USB drive you kept in the shed, I can’t be having other coming looking afterwards now can I.”
Breathe faster, thought John as he tried to force the drug through his veins. A couple of minutes more and he could trip the silent alarm and have security here in seconds. He could feel his heartbeat increasing now as it forced the blood quicker round his system and beads of sweat started to appear on his forehead and the pain started to build in his chest.
“I do thank you, John, for this opportunity to talk, it’s been…calming.” The shadow moved towards the door, pausing as it reached for the handle. “I am sorry about having to drug you though, but It will at least look like a heart attack, save your family from any, problems later with insurances. It’s a shame you struggled really, I would have liked to have talked some more.”
Tuesday 20 March 2012
Friday 9 March 2012
THE DRESS
Katie was starting to regret moving to the city. She’d left behind all her friends, family and home comforts for a dream, a hope even, that life could be better for her in a larger city, but after only a week she was starting to doubt herself, and her future.
She’d managed to get a small flat at the top of an old house in the city with what little money she’d be able to save up, it was at least dry, and the old lady who owned it was nice and she’d welcomed Katie in as though she was her own blood.
The problem wasn’t the flat though, but the competition she faced in getting employed. She’d wanted to be an actress since a child, watching some of the classics from 2012 with her mum, and it was way back then that the glamour had taken her and never let her go. She’d taken acting classes back home, spending all her free time practicing her words and acting, but it seemed to count for nothing. Not in the City. Her first interview had called her quaint, and she hated that. Other had called her yokel, or just too country, too 2010.
She’d walked around town in the rain, knocking on every door she could find that looked like it could be a studio, or an agent, but to no avail. Now, her feet ached and she felt so depressed she wanted to just cry. She eased her shoe carefully off her feet, trying to avoid the fresh blisters that had appeared, but failed, cursing her luck she screamed, and threw her shoe at the far wall.
Tears of rejection and self pity ran down her cheek and it was a moment or two before she realised her shoe had embedded itself into the wall in the corner. More worried about being charged for the damage than anything, she stood and hobbled over to it, pulling it free from the wall before she pushed her finger into the hole.
There was something behind the wall, something solid, something hidden and as her finger touched it, her world filled with flashing lights and the sound of laughter. She pulled her hand away quickly as she tried to figure out what had just happened. Curiosity got the better of her and she pushed her finger inside again, feeling the slight fizzy of excitement as the lights and noise returned.
She started to pull a little at the hole, making it slowly larger and larger until chunks began to fall away, revealing behind it an old chest. The closer she got to it the more her heart seemed to beat faster. With shaking hands she turned the key and pushed the lid open. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she moved the carefully placed tissues out of the way before pulling the items free from inside. Whoever had locked this away had really cared for the contents, and after what must have been years of storage, everything still looked fresh and new.
She removed a picture frame first; the photo inside showing a wedding scene and she half recognised the bride. Further down she found an old photo album and a pile of letters, all neatly wrapped in a red ribbon, which she placed carefully to the side. Finally her fingers touched something and the lights and noise jumped into her mind.
The dress had gold and silver sequins and soft, almost see though material in its design and the moth balls and scent pouches fell to the floor as she pulled it free. It was a stunning dress, almost lighting the room on its own accord. Holding it up to herself she looked at the label, hoping beyond hope that it would be her size.
The dress was, by some twist of fate, her actual size and she wondered who `Pinderella` was, and why she’d put this dress away, hiding it from the world.
“That was mine, and it’s called Cheryl.” A soft and sad voice spoke from the doorway, and Katie span round, embarrassed to be caught in the act but saddened by the look in her landlady’s face.
“I am so very sorry.” Katie began, “I didn’t mean to do this but…”
“Don’t apologise.” She smiled. “I wore that dress when I met my husband.” She sighed happily as she walked in and picked up the wedding photo. “But when he passed away, those memories just seemed too real, to painful. But I guess something as beautiful as that dress needs someone to wear it. After the parties we went to, the things that dress has seen…”
She touched the image of her husband on the photo before putting it carefully back down and picking up the letters. “It’s been almost twenty years now and it still shines.”
“What about the photographers, and laughter?”
“Oh, yes. Those.” She smiled. “They were very special days when the press came out. How did you know about them?”
“The dress, I can.” Katie paused as she thought about the right words to use. “I feel them when I touch it.”
“Then try it on. Go on. It’s wrong to keep it trapped like that. You put it on and take it out for the night. Let it live a little.”
“Thank you.” She ran over and kissed her on the cheek. The pains of the day dropping away from her as she quickly changed, even her shoes felt like silk as she slipped them on and moments later she stepped out into the room.
“Beautiful.” Her landlady whispered between the tears. “You look stunning, now you go back out there and find your dream.”
As Katie stepped out onto the street, the clouds parted a little letting the sun shine down onto her, causing her shadow to dance as the sequins reflected the light, and Katie realised that sometimes all it takes for a dream to come true was a change, and maybe the right dress.
She’d managed to get a small flat at the top of an old house in the city with what little money she’d be able to save up, it was at least dry, and the old lady who owned it was nice and she’d welcomed Katie in as though she was her own blood.
The problem wasn’t the flat though, but the competition she faced in getting employed. She’d wanted to be an actress since a child, watching some of the classics from 2012 with her mum, and it was way back then that the glamour had taken her and never let her go. She’d taken acting classes back home, spending all her free time practicing her words and acting, but it seemed to count for nothing. Not in the City. Her first interview had called her quaint, and she hated that. Other had called her yokel, or just too country, too 2010.
She’d walked around town in the rain, knocking on every door she could find that looked like it could be a studio, or an agent, but to no avail. Now, her feet ached and she felt so depressed she wanted to just cry. She eased her shoe carefully off her feet, trying to avoid the fresh blisters that had appeared, but failed, cursing her luck she screamed, and threw her shoe at the far wall.
Tears of rejection and self pity ran down her cheek and it was a moment or two before she realised her shoe had embedded itself into the wall in the corner. More worried about being charged for the damage than anything, she stood and hobbled over to it, pulling it free from the wall before she pushed her finger into the hole.
There was something behind the wall, something solid, something hidden and as her finger touched it, her world filled with flashing lights and the sound of laughter. She pulled her hand away quickly as she tried to figure out what had just happened. Curiosity got the better of her and she pushed her finger inside again, feeling the slight fizzy of excitement as the lights and noise returned.
She started to pull a little at the hole, making it slowly larger and larger until chunks began to fall away, revealing behind it an old chest. The closer she got to it the more her heart seemed to beat faster. With shaking hands she turned the key and pushed the lid open. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she moved the carefully placed tissues out of the way before pulling the items free from inside. Whoever had locked this away had really cared for the contents, and after what must have been years of storage, everything still looked fresh and new.
She removed a picture frame first; the photo inside showing a wedding scene and she half recognised the bride. Further down she found an old photo album and a pile of letters, all neatly wrapped in a red ribbon, which she placed carefully to the side. Finally her fingers touched something and the lights and noise jumped into her mind.
The dress had gold and silver sequins and soft, almost see though material in its design and the moth balls and scent pouches fell to the floor as she pulled it free. It was a stunning dress, almost lighting the room on its own accord. Holding it up to herself she looked at the label, hoping beyond hope that it would be her size.
The dress was, by some twist of fate, her actual size and she wondered who `Pinderella` was, and why she’d put this dress away, hiding it from the world.
“That was mine, and it’s called Cheryl.” A soft and sad voice spoke from the doorway, and Katie span round, embarrassed to be caught in the act but saddened by the look in her landlady’s face.
“I am so very sorry.” Katie began, “I didn’t mean to do this but…”
“Don’t apologise.” She smiled. “I wore that dress when I met my husband.” She sighed happily as she walked in and picked up the wedding photo. “But when he passed away, those memories just seemed too real, to painful. But I guess something as beautiful as that dress needs someone to wear it. After the parties we went to, the things that dress has seen…”
She touched the image of her husband on the photo before putting it carefully back down and picking up the letters. “It’s been almost twenty years now and it still shines.”
“What about the photographers, and laughter?”
“Oh, yes. Those.” She smiled. “They were very special days when the press came out. How did you know about them?”
“The dress, I can.” Katie paused as she thought about the right words to use. “I feel them when I touch it.”
“Then try it on. Go on. It’s wrong to keep it trapped like that. You put it on and take it out for the night. Let it live a little.”
“Thank you.” She ran over and kissed her on the cheek. The pains of the day dropping away from her as she quickly changed, even her shoes felt like silk as she slipped them on and moments later she stepped out into the room.
“Beautiful.” Her landlady whispered between the tears. “You look stunning, now you go back out there and find your dream.”
As Katie stepped out onto the street, the clouds parted a little letting the sun shine down onto her, causing her shadow to dance as the sequins reflected the light, and Katie realised that sometimes all it takes for a dream to come true was a change, and maybe the right dress.
Saturday 3 March 2012
DEAR DIARY
Dear Diary,
It’s not often I write in you any more, but I need to talk to someone, I need to tell someone what I have done before it drives me mad.
Even now as I write this, I can feel my hands twitching, urging me back. They want to kill again, to take a life, to see its soul leave its body; my life has become that simple now.
I’ve not slept properly in days now, and when I do eventually fall asleep, images of the dead fill my mind, waking me from any rest I could hope to get. I wanted to be a writer, to put my thoughts to paper, to put my hands to a different use, but now, well now I just don’t know anymore.
I think its starting to affect my family, I am sure Karen knows, she’s not daft, when I’m missing for hours it’s obvious that she’s going to put two and two together eventually. I’ve started to sweat in my sleep now, after a day or two, when the images in my mind take over again and I slip out of bed for a few hours, no, she’s not daft.
So now I guess my options are reduced a little. Either I give it up, if I can. Stop and go back to writing, maybe take up a hobby to keep my mind occupied to keep my hands occupied.
Another option would be to tell her, see if she wants to join in, she might, I can hope at least, two of us would be better than one.
Last option is that I cover my tracks better, spend more time with the family, doing family things. Maybe take them out at the weekend and try to subdue my feelings, my urges.
Either way tonight is the night, the family are all in bed, let them rest for twenty or thirty minutes and then I’ll get myself ready, I should be writing, I know I should.
Damn it.
It’s the worst things I’ve done, I know that now.
I should never have bought bloody Skyrim.
It’s not often I write in you any more, but I need to talk to someone, I need to tell someone what I have done before it drives me mad.
Even now as I write this, I can feel my hands twitching, urging me back. They want to kill again, to take a life, to see its soul leave its body; my life has become that simple now.
I’ve not slept properly in days now, and when I do eventually fall asleep, images of the dead fill my mind, waking me from any rest I could hope to get. I wanted to be a writer, to put my thoughts to paper, to put my hands to a different use, but now, well now I just don’t know anymore.
I think its starting to affect my family, I am sure Karen knows, she’s not daft, when I’m missing for hours it’s obvious that she’s going to put two and two together eventually. I’ve started to sweat in my sleep now, after a day or two, when the images in my mind take over again and I slip out of bed for a few hours, no, she’s not daft.
So now I guess my options are reduced a little. Either I give it up, if I can. Stop and go back to writing, maybe take up a hobby to keep my mind occupied to keep my hands occupied.
Another option would be to tell her, see if she wants to join in, she might, I can hope at least, two of us would be better than one.
Last option is that I cover my tracks better, spend more time with the family, doing family things. Maybe take them out at the weekend and try to subdue my feelings, my urges.
Either way tonight is the night, the family are all in bed, let them rest for twenty or thirty minutes and then I’ll get myself ready, I should be writing, I know I should.
Damn it.
It’s the worst things I’ve done, I know that now.
I should never have bought bloody Skyrim.
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