of music and he focused to find its source. He placed a hand flat against the wall and proceeded with another lap of the small space. The vibrating grew more intense as he kept moving and his body trembled as he reached the far wall. He stopped still and faced the taunting song.
The wheel brace sent clumps of plaster into his face as the metal tool hacked at the surface. Nathan felt the urge to find the location of the song, it was an urge he had no control over. He couldn’t remember raising the weapon and sending it into the wall…….but now he attacked it. The brick work seemed easy to penetrate, large chunks fell to his feet and an orange dust climbed to the ceiling. He had done this before. He could remember the similarity as if deja vu had struck him. The wall was slowly destroyed, a doorway being created. He forced his strength into the obstruction, expecting something to appear, to jump out and spook him, but he didn’t know what or who. The small spec of light appeared in the centre of the newly created hole. He peeked through to spy on the other side. The metal tool was sent in several times, the small hole growing larger. He pulled at the bricks with his bare hands, the music grew louder. The hole that stood before him was half the size of a door, he approached it.
The music had stopped and silence surrounded him. He poked his head into the new room. The light illuminated the small box space. The pink walls seemed to glow, reflecting the light from above. He entered cautiously.
The pictures had been drawn by a child. The house was coloured with a brown crayon, the grass depicted as green vertical lines. He counted six in total and each seemed to be drawn by a different child. The style was different in each piece. They all appeared to be of happy things, the stuff that would make a child smile. Nathan studied them carefully. There seemed to be something in the top window of the house, a distorted figure of sort. He stepped closer.
The Wolf starred back at him from behind the glass, the red Crayola dripping from its mouth. He checked the next one……………there it was, in the tree. Its head peeking from the growth, the red drops falling from its mouth. He moved through each piece on a
‘What does it mean?’ he found himself asking aloud.
The light tapping sound came from his left. He looked, his body remaining still. It came again…..
The tapping sound stopped as he neared it.
The door was dragged open to the right at speed. The boys hovered, swaying slightly as the wardrobe shook from the slamming door. The rope, all different lengths, looped around their necks. The top was secured to a hanging rail. Nathan stood in shock, the three boys, all with golden hair, had been stripped to their skin. Their tongues protruded from the mouth, the skin had gone a pale blue colour as the oxygen intake had been blocked. He slammed the door shut. The figure took a hold of his neck and forced his cranium into the mirror, it shattered upon contact. The grip was too tight, he couldn’t move. He threw his arms toward the attacker, aiming for a facial strike. The connection with its face created a loosening of the hands around his throat. He was dropped to the ground and landed where the shards of mirror lay. His hands scurried around the floor, trying to locate a lethal sized piece of mirror. The large hands relocated themselves and gripped his throat, his Adams apple crushing slightly, the fingers acted like a tourniquet around his neck. He looked upon the beast, its face coated with matted hair, its teeth large and prominent. The piece of mirror caught the light as the killer raised it to head height. The hand wrapped around Nathans throat began to force his head to the rear, he struggled to break free. The shard was slowly pushed towards his face, stopping an inch away from his left eye. He gurgled, an attempt to plead with the monster as it prepared to snatch his life. The point entered the lower section of his eye ball, the pupil was sliced through the middle, and the popping sound deafened his ears as it pierced the lens.
Chapter Eight
The camera was set and ready to record. He had prepped in silence as his new girl slept in the upright position. He watched her chest expand as the deep intake of oxygen, via her nose, had filled her lungs. The Polaroid camera sat on the cabinet ready to be collected and used, his snapshots of torture for the police. His tool aid sat next to the girl, the metal trolley held his favourite instruments.
‘Abbbbyyyyyyyyyyy’ he called softly
‘Aaaabbbbbbbbyyyyyyy’ this time he spoke a little louder but still no sign of life.
‘ABBY’ he bellowed. The girl threw her head rearwards as the voice startled her. The Wolf moved in front of her, his face covered with a Balaclava. She wriggled, the binds ripped into her skin again. He noticed that she had begun to cry, he liked this as to him it was an expression of fear, fear of the Wolf.
He turned to the camera and pressed the small red button on the side. The session was now being recorded, he could begin.
The flash from the Polaroid blinded her small pleading eyes. The camera focused back into view and caught her blinking rapidly to shake away the blurred image. Then the second flash.
The music had started, the room aiding the acoustics with its sound proof walls. The Wolf had, like before, moved out of view from the camera. He removed the mask from its holding place and raised it above his head. He inhaled deeply as his new face slid gently against his skin, he felt the power of the monster and was certain that parts of his body also changed when his facial appearance did. He stalked the girl as she squirmed in the chair, the lens caught every moment. The rush conquered him as he laid his eyes upon the glove. He moved towards it and stood with his back towards the camera, the girl watched every move he made. She spotted the garment of razor blades as he stood in ore of its power, her scream unheard as the music over-powered it. His hand slipped slowly into its new home, his fingers located their desired places. He turned the new hand into the light and it glimmered as the razor’s caught it. He turned to his side and starred at his prey, his weak……..frightened prey.
The first slash was deliberately soft. The razor pierced her cheek and tore the skin as it exited. She screamed with pain. He ran a finger over the bleeding wound and raised it to his mouth, pretending to taste it. He lowered his face and sniffed at her, smelling the fear as it poured from the wound. The gag was cut free and Abby gasped, pulling as much air as she could take. The Wolf circled her, more for show. He gripped her hair with his free hand and tugged it back, her chin tilting towards the ceiling. The sharp finger was pushed into her jaw. The trickle of blood coated his finger. He drew it towards him, creating a small incision. Her face had opened up slightly as the razor dug deeper into the flesh, the air stinging the nerves that were on display. He gripped tighter to her hair as she fought him, he didn’t want to kill her…………..not yet. He gazed into her eyes as another opening was created and the crimson liquid trickled from the wound. Her cries fed his hunger, the blood pleased his beady eyes.
***
Nathan awoke as the eye of his dream-self had been punctured. The sweat rolled down his forehead and landed on his grey t-shirt. He sat up and rubbed the drops free from his brow. His mouth was dry and he smacked his lips together, the clicking sound produced every time. The dreams were beginning to worry him, he was afraid to sleep. It was like the Wolf had climbed into his head and lay in wait for his eyes to close. He needed a coffee, more importantly he needed to catch the man who had also taken his dreams hostage.
He left the room and made his way to the coffee machine, Jack stood with one hand leaning against the wall as he waited for his cup to fill.
‘What’s the outcome so far?’ Nathan quizzed as he rubbed his eyes free from sleep.
‘Nothing was recovered apart from a neighbour of the school spotting a black van static for the whole morning. The interview with the parents and the school came up with nothing strong………….it’s like he’s a fucking ghost!’
‘He’s good Jack, he won’t make mistakes’.
‘I know. I had the big man from the Yard on the phone whilst you were sleeping’.
‘Ah, not impressed I take it?’
‘No, not at all, he wants to hold a press conference again by the end of the week. If we don’t get enough evidence to give him a boner he’ll shut the team down and bring someone else in’.
‘Shit………by then there could be another two…maybe three girls added to the collection’.
