Little Red

as it clenched the porcelain sink.

He stood and admired the result, one tooth completed. He took a mouth full of water from the tap and prepared himself for the next. He knew it would hurt, but it was a feeling he was willing to receive. The pain brings a result……a result I am proud of……..I am becoming!

***

Jack had been informed of the next press-conference, he was told to prepare his speech. He collapsed into the chair and rubbed his leathered skin with both hands. His body felt weak, his mind was tiring and it told him to rest. He couldn’t…….not until the killer was caught and dragged into prison. The hustle and bustle within the briefing room brought him back to life. The team were in motion, doing everything they could to help him achieve his goal. He watched Nathan through the open blinds, he paced back and forth from one wall to the next. His mouth and hands were moving as if he were talking to somebody, an imaginary colleague that had been conjured up within his unique mind. It was a mind that Jack was envious of, jealous to a certain extent. His friend had everything, a loving wife and devoted partner; a place to hide away from the chaos and everyday cluster. Retirement, once again, crept into his head. The images of the boat he longed for, a reminder that constantly prodded at him to make him aware that it was an option; one that he began to consider taking.

‘Sir’ the words broke his day dream.

‘Yes’ wiping his eyes free of the image. It was the two female PC’s that Nathan had assigned the task to.

‘We have the results that Mr Crawley requested’ the sheet of paper clamped in one hand. Jack stood and ushered them towards the small box office, his knuckles tapped the wooden door.

‘Enter’ from inside

‘Nathan, the results are in’. He moved towards Jack and the paper was handed to him as if it were a top secret document for his eyes only. Nathan studied the words, double checking what was in front of him.

‘I was right’, he started. ‘Both victims time of death was on a full moon Jack!’

‘Jackpot’ his grin displayed the satisfying news.

‘The next night is in six days from today……..I’ll bet my life that is when he aims to kill number three’.

Chapter Fourteen

He checked, again, the equipment for the night’s event. His mouth had throbbed for several hours, the pain still dwelling within his gums. The changing of his appearance had brought a sense of fulfilment, the first tooth looked better than he had hoped for; his finger tip still help the indentation as he had pushed it against the sharpened point. Satisfied that the inventory was complete he headed back upstairs to verify his new set of teeth, feeling slightly vane as he checked them in every reflect able surface he passed. The grin was frightening, so real. His tongue licked the tips, a slight tingle of pain as he touched them. I am becoming………I will become!

He gathered his belongings and took them to the van, sitting them upon the passenger seat. The sky was becoming a grey colour, slight tints of clear blue showing as the clouds gradually suffocated the vast space. He pushed the gear stick into first and began the journey. The heaters began to warm the cold interior. The night was creeping above and the streets were starting to empty, the cold wind increased and whistled through the trees. He knew the location of his new girl and he had studied the map and all accessible routes to and from her safe place. Tonight he would take an alternate path. It was something he had trained himself to do. His mind wandered back to the days when all of the recent activities were just a vision……a dream.

He had sat in the one bedroom apartment, the walls were stained with a yellow tint; the dried nicotine from copious amounts of cigarettes clung to the surface. He had longed to be somewhere else than there……somewhere meaningful. He still carried the ageing photograph in his wallet, the birthday cake laying in front of her puffed up cheeks…..all prepped for extinguish and wish making. He remembered the time they spent together, reading their favourite stories and trying the odd scare tactic when approaching the frightening parts. He would prance around the room they shared, his thin body bent into an arched shape to imitate the creature from the book. She would pull the blanket higher, leaving just enough viewing space. Her long red hair would hang over the bedding; thin strands clung to her eye lashes. He would pant and offer a low growl as his beast would enter the chapter, her eyes widened with fear. He would stop when he noticed the scarring had become too much.

‘It’s ok red…..these stories can’t hurt you’ he would reassure, Red being his nick name for her…..her red hair aiding to the label.

The floor boards would creak from outside the door and the story telling would seize as they anticipated the listening guest. He was aware of the midnight visits, not being woken but hearing the creeping in the room. He would curl his body into a U-shape and place his hands over his ears, willing the shadow to leave them. It didn’t.

On occasion the beast would forget to pay them a visit, the alcohol had been consumed in large amounts and the animal would drag itself to the cave and pass out for the night. Russell would attempt to barrage the door with furniture, the lack of storage proved his efforts to fail and the belt from the monsters trousers would crack the back of his legs. He had only one fond memory of his child hood, many other events would haunt his mind and one would torment him till the day he fills a hole in the ground. The fondest was of his little sister Sarah, she meant the world to him and he would do anything to make her smile. The haunting visions were those of his father……the beast. His body had endured a physical torture that no child should bear or witness. He had no friends to play with and no time for socialising, schooling was ended due to him been the sole carer of his sister.

One occasion torments his mind even now, a series of events that he can no longer blank from his internal slide show. The night had arrived quicker than they had thought, the story telling aided in passing the time. Sarah sat at the top of her mattress, the old sleeping aid was worn and uncomfortable but Russell had given her the only bed frame in the room, he slept on several blankets upon the stained carpet. He strolled around the dimly lit room, the moon glowed strong through the only window; illuminating his body temporarily as he moved past it. Sarah would gasp as he offered a muffled howl, imitating the Wolf from the book. He noticed that she would jump at the same part of the story every time. He had begun reciting the words my…… what big ears you have, when the creak froze his movements. Fear engulfed them and he found himself unable to move. He watched as the black mass moved under the door, its shadow cast from the light at the top of the stairs. The round door handle had started to rotate clockwise, Russell found himself edging to his bed; his eyes fixed on the door. Slowly it was eased open and slowly he lowered himself to the floor.

The blankets gave a ruffled sound as he pulled them up to his face, the beast had entered their room. The floor boards echoed its footsteps, the old carpet had thinned with wear and barely lay on top of the wooden slats. The steps had moved cautiously but controlled, he isn’t drunk………oh god he isn’t drunk.

The sliding of blankets could be heard from his hiding place and Russell began to wind himself up with bad thoughts……angry thoughts. He felt his blood boil, his gut began to ache. He knew what was going to happen, it had several times now. Whispers could be heard in the room, he continued with the forced rage.

The blanket fell silently to the floor…..the beast with its back towards him. His footsteps held no sound…….leaping towards the large mass. The grunt as he and the monster exhaled with the contact. The scream as the girl sat upon her resting place. Her red hair glowed in the moonlight. The thud as the small body was thrown to the floor…..his head absorbing the blow. The grunt as the large man regained his posture……the gurgle sound escaping his mouth as the small, weak arms were clasped around his throat from behind. The girl held on for dear life. The boy was back on his feet, his hands searching for a weapon. The glass shard found from the broken mirror, caused from their ruckus. The thrusting and tearing of skin filling the room…..his screams of rage were followed by screams of pain. The beast was on the floor…..the glass piercing his body. The warm blood spat at the boy’s face, the weapon brought up and forced down several times as the rage controlled him. The aggression caused spurts of abuse from his mouth, the words directed into the monsters ears. Russell’s hand was flayed from the shard, his opponent gurgled as the blood pooled within his chest. The anger soared through his sixteen year old body, unable