second Insight

Suspense Stories | Jul 17, 2012 | 32 min read
48 Votes, average: 4 out of 5
In about fifteen more minutes he would set off again on the last part of his journey, as his brother had been extremely particular about when he should arrive. That's why he had pulled over into the little pub in the first place as he had been running early, having made good time on the motorway.

It had been at least five years since he'd last seen his brother Eric; it was Christmas in 2004 when the remaining family had their last get together. It wasn't planned as the last, but the death of Eric's wife, who was lost to cancer, led to the re birth of Eric's sea legs.
He'd only really heard from Eric a handful of times since he left to work on which ever vessel would have him, but he knew he had been to the Asian and American continents over the past few years and with each post card or phone call, he seemed more distant and troubled and was to a degree almost unrecognisable to him.

So shocking then when he received the phone call two days ago, announcing that Eric was back and needed to meet him. Again he seemed distant, he said very little over the phone but was adamant not to arrive until 3pm, don't be early and definitely don't be late. This was both intriguing and disconcerting at the same time.
He felt a little on edge as he drained the last of his beer from the glass, which he'd really enjoyed, it was quite a fruity tasting porter from a local brewery. He closed his eyes and raised his face to the warm afternoon sun, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly and gently.

Just past two forty pm by his watch with another 17 minutes driving according to his sat nav, so he would arrive at 3pm approximately. He left the glass on the beer garden table, stood and stretched his legs and then purposefully made his way to his car, a black Ford Mondeo. He saw the reflection of a balding, forty three year old, portly man in the driver's side window as he unlocked the door, a guy he saw every morning in his bathroom mirror.
He liked to dress sharply, although you wouldn't find him wearing a designer suit (his well paid job in banking wasn't that well paid), he wouldn't step out of the house unless he was wearing a black or dark blue suit, waistcoat and smart shiny shoes, unless he was at the Golf club or fishing of course.
He socialised with workmates, playing golf twice a week with one of them, Kenny Templar, who had the same handicap as him and currently they were the doubles champions, in fact the pair of them had significantly improved over the past two years and were considered rising stars, though that was something neither of them took seriously. He had many friends at the Golf Club, who he would dine out with at least twice a week, but on the whole he had a fairly quiet social life and that was exactly the way he liked it.

2:58 pm

"You have arrived" announced the Sat Nav, he looked out the drivers side window at the house fronts looking for number 66, Indicating and pulling over to park outside the house, once he'd found it.
The engine idled and died as he switched off the ignition, looking at his watch it was exactly 3 pm.

A deep breath again to steady his nerves as he was both excited to be re united with Eric again, but felt nervous as to what could be so important and potentially weighing so heavily on Eric's mind.
He stepped out of the open car door and heard a front door open to his right as he exited the car. He closed the car door and centrally locked the car before looking to the front door of the house.
His tension washed away as he saw Eric standing there with a huge smile from ear to ear.

"Still dressing scruffy then Terry old boy" Eric quipped, giving his watch a quick glance

"Yeah I just threw on the first thing I found as usual" Responded Terry

"Well your time keeping is every bit as sharp as that suit" Eric reached out his right hand as Terry approached and shook his hand firmly.

"Long time no see bruv" Terry reached his left arm round Eric's back and hugged him patting his back and rocking slightly, Eric responded by hugging and patting Terry's back.

"Come in Terry time is of the essence", suddenly Eric seemed troubled again as he led Terry into the house. "Terry please sit down, I'd love to get you a drink and catch up but I just don't have the time". Eric looked at his watch and his eyes almost popped out of his head "Christ there's no time, look Terry I need you to have these glasses" Eric reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of glasses, which he thrust out towards Terry as he stepped forward and as Terry took them with a seriously confusion plastered all over his face, Eric lunged back away from Terry again.

"Wha…" began Terry

"No sorry bruv there is not enough time, please listen, Do Not put those glasses on until I've gone, when you do put them on, do not look into any reflective surface while you are wearing them and mind what you think while you have them on, things will happen when you see the blood. There is a letter on the kitchen table which explains more, no one but you must see it, no one but you must know, say nothing of what you see, nothing…….AAAHHHHH"

Eric almost bent double in pain holding his stomach, Terry began to rise to his feet, to help his brother, but Eric moved further away

"No Terry, stay away" Eric raised his eyes and looked at Terry, "Goodbye Terry"

Terry again began to rise to his feet, but fell back into the chair, startled by the bright flash of light, feeling the heat from the flames pouring out of every part of his brothers body and then he was gone.

Terry sat open mouthed, and did not move, his frantic and racing mind completely submerged in his motionless body. It seemed like hours before the tears in his eyes registered, as he slowly awoke from his state of shock.

He let out a deep sigh, which seemed to spur him back to motion; he leant forward in the chair and stared at where his brother had stood. There was no sign his brother had been there at all, no sign of any burn marks anywhere in the room from the flames that poured from him. He looked to his own arms and upper body, looking for any sign on his clothes that he had witnessed his brother literally disappear in a flash, but there was nothing to find, he did not have a mark on him.

Terry remembered the letter Eric had left for him in the kitchen. He stood slowly and walked to the kitchen, still looking around the room for anything to prove that Eric had just been there or how he had gone.

He saw the letter as he entered the room, as he reached for it he noticed the glasses still in his hand; he put them on the kitchen table next to the letter then picked up the white envelope. Once opened he found a short hand written note, he recognised his brothers hand writing, which looked like a drunk spider had run across the paper with ink on it's legs.

"Terry, firstly sorry, you needed to see what just happened to me, to help you understand the power of the glasses. Yes you just saw me go up in flames and No you won't find anything left of me.
Do not tell anyone of what you have just seen, or anything you see from now on, well who would believe you anyway.
The glasses are a gift and I don't mean from me to you, I mean almost like a gift from the gods. When you wear them you can see bad people, you will know they are bad as it will look like they are covered in blood. The more blood you see on them the more people they have killed or will kill; you will see what I mean when you wear them.
The glasses interpret your thoughts to choose how the bad people will die once you have seen them, which cannot be traced back to you in any way, however bizarre your thoughts the glasses will find a way. You must wear the glasses out in public, if you don't hundreds and maybe thousands of innocent people will die.
Do not look into a mirror or any shiny surface while you are wearing them.

See you on the other side

Eric"

The letter was folded and placed back in the envelope; the envelope was then placed into a breast pocket inside his suit jacket. He picked up the glasses and looked at them, they looked like a really cheap tacky pair of reading glasses, not what you would expect from a magical pair that bestowed such great power and responsibility on it's wearer. The glasses were placed inside the breast pocket next to the letter. He stood for a moment thinking what he should do next; I mean what would you do after experiencing the dramatic life changing events he had just witnessed and had thrust on him, Probably the same as what he did do next, look for an off license or pub for a stiff drink or two.

10:03 am the next day

He did not have to go far to find a pub the previous day and fortunately it had accommodation as well, so he drowned his sorrows and slept it off.
Although breakfast was served until 9 am, he could not bring himself to get out of bed and face the other guests, not only because of his sore head, but he did not want to see or speak to anyone, as he still could not get his head around the events of the previous day.

The rooms had to be vacated by 10am, so unless he stayed another day, he would have to face the world. He was expected back at work tomorrow, so he had to make his way back home today.

He sat in his car in the pub car park ready to input the postcode in the Sat Nav for his return journey and increasingly the throb in his head was giving way to the nagging curiosity of what would happen if he put the glasses on. He watched people walking by in the street and wondered what he would see if he put the glasses on, he even began sizing people up, wondering which of them had secrets that they could no longer hide from him.
Placing his hand inside the breast pocket he felt the rim of the glasses, a rush of adrenalin spurred him on to pull them out and put them on. A youth walked by wearing a dark blue hoody, he watched him thinking that he was probably a gang member, a drug taking nuisance to society, just the sort of person the glasses were designed to weed out and remove for good. Put them on and get rid of him he thought, but as he pulled the glasses from his pocket the youth had moved out of his view.

"After Him, quickly", he was startled as it seemed the words were spoken out loud, or maybe he had imagined it, either way he was stirred into action. Pulling out of the pub car park and turning left, he spotted the youth who was still walking about a hundred feet ahead of him. Accelerating to thirty miles an hour slowly so as not to gain attention, he looked for a parking place ahead of the youth and soon found one. Indicating left he pulled into the parking space and switched off the engine. The youth was visible in the left hand mirror, as he reached into his pocket for the glasses.
Excitement began building; he felt butterflies in his stomach and closed his eyes as he put the glasses on. A deep sharp intake of breath which he held to steady his nerves and control his breathing as his heart began to race.
Light flooded in as he opened his eyes, lowering his head to the left he looked into the mirror, but the youth had gone, he looked outside the car, maybe he was passing, but no sign of the youth, a look in front and over the shoulder, the youth had vanished, he felt confused as he hadn't thought of anything, surely that wasn't it, he hadn't seen any blood, he hadn't seen anything at all.
Removing the glasses he rubbed his eyes for a second then looked at the glasses in his hand, that can't be all there is to it, or is it all rubbish, maybe even an elaborate hoax, would someone bang on his window in a second and tell him he'd been framed. A hot flush washed over him as he sat bewildered, opening the window he turned his face to the cool morning air and inhaled deeply, breathing out he began to chuckle as he noticed the youth stood on the pavement on the other side of the road lighting a cigarette. Flick, Flick, Flick, the cheap lighter refused to work for the annoyed youth, who seemed to be stood there for an eternity. Casually raising the glasses to his face not making any sudden moves he put the glasses on and saw …. Nothing, the youth looked exactly the same. Maybe the colour of the top made it difficult to see the blood, he looked from the youths face to his arms to his chest, darting from body part to body part trying to find the smallest trace of blood that must be there, somewhere.

"What the fuck are you looking at mate", having finally lit his cigarette the youth had noticed him staring

"Nothing, sorry I thought you were someone else"

Having given his meanest stare the youth turned to walk away and collided with a man walking past him

"Watch out chief" warned the youth

"You talking to me" replied the stranger "You can't take it, don't give it"

Terry shrank back in his car seat in shock as he saw the blood stained white T Shirt the stranger was wearing, blood covering his hands and arms, but most surprisingly, over his neck and chin, almost as though the blood had spilled from his mouth.

"It's a vampire", the words were out of Terry's mouth before he realised it, "Oh, what will the glasses make of that".

Without taking his eyes off the stranger he removed the glasses and found that he didn't look any different to anyone else in the street. What should he do now, should he follow him and see what happens, or has he done all he needs to do. Before he could decide a huge explosion burst out from a shop the stranger was passing, knocking him to the floor.

A few passing cars screeched to a halt with the drivers getting out to see if they could help the fallen stranger but he didn't move, a woman driving one of the cars began screaming, as another driver shouted out to the youth, ring 999.

6:28 pm

Flicking through teletext he finally found what he had been looking for

Steak through the heart Kills Essex Man

"A 27 year old man died as a result of an explosion at a pie shop in Essex today. The man was killed outside the pie shop, having received fatal wounds from debris blown out from the shop. The Fire chief advised the blast was caused when an oven exploded whilst pies were being baked; the cause is as yet unknown.
The coroner has advised that a large piece of wood blasted out of the shop window, had pierced through the mans chest into his heart, causing instant death. He also reported that the wood appeared to be covered by the contents of the pies, Steak Pies".

"Well I'll be", Terry picked up the glasses from his side table and smiled as he looked at them," So that's how you work, I thought of him as a Vampire and you put steak through his heart".

12 Days later, 2:09 pm

In spite of wearing the glasses every day since the first death, he had seen nothing out of the ordinary and was starting to travel out of the area in order to find what his brother called the bad people. Although he felt disappointed at not finding more bad people, he was also heartened that there was not as much evil in the world as he thought there would be.

Police stations, pubs, red light districts and parks at night, he thought would be good hunting grounds, for his unique brand of Vigilante activities, he also wore them at work hoping to see his boss and some of his colleagues covered in blood, but no such luck, although a highly agitated customer did punch the mortgage adviser, cutting his lip and causing it to bleed a little, not worthy of the wrath of the glasses, more worthy of a round of applause.

Not too surprising then that having spent two weeks searching for the next target, he found her when he least expected it. He had learned to control where and when he wore the glasses to ensure that he did not catch his own reflection as his brother had advised and had habitually worn them as he sat in the park eating his lunch. Most of the time he sat on sunny afternoons almost oblivious to the fact he was wearing them.

On the one hand you could type cast her as a typical bad person, as she walked past him in full motorcycle leathers looking every inch the bad girl, however he knew her as a nurse that worked at the local residence for the elderly. Very pleasant in nature, caring and friendly, or so it appeared, she even smiled at him as she walked by and approached her parked motorcycle.
Biting into his BLT Sandwich, he recalled that there had been a couple of elderly residents pass away recently, but death by natural causes was the official verdict, with definitely no suspicion of foul play.

He smiled back at her as he chewed, not showing any reaction to the blood that covered her hands neither had he realised that as she had put on her crash helmet and gloves and started the bike, no thoughts had sprung to mind. The Triumph Bonneville America roared as she pulled out into the road, in front of a speeding motorist, which had to slam on its brakes as hard as the driver hit the horn and waved his fist.

"Mind you don't get cut up on your chopper", he was startled a little by his own voice, but then a mischievous smile crept on his face as he thought, ok glasses what are you going to do with that one.
It was an open stretch of road, so he could see clearly both to the left and the right, but he stood and walked towards the roadside to get a better view as she rode off up the road heading out of town, towards the residential area, after all he witnessed the first death, so he assumed he would see this one too.

As he did so a black headed gull had swooped on a nearby pond and caught a goldfish, it rose swiftly in the air with its catch in its beak, thrashing and writhing from side to side. As it flew a second gull swooped down to steal the goldfish from its beak. The two swooped and squabbled in mid air, clashing again and again each attach more vicious than the last until, the writhing goldfish fell from the gulls beak.
Both gulls were so intent on attacking each other, that the goldfish fell unnoticed.

It was a friendly kind of neighbourhood, the type where everyone knew everyone and would take time to chat to each other, catch up on the gossip and discuss family tragedies and triumphs.
Two neighbours stood on the edge of town chatting, one walking his German shepherd towards the park the other was returning home having bought a packet of fags, neither were in any kind of hurry. The dog sat patiently waiting, wagging its tail when stroked by its loving owner or the neighbour, which happened every time he felt nervous by the loud screeching noise coming from the men on the other side of the road.
Tree surgeons where cutting back the branches that had hung over the road, which although was pleasant to the eye, was considered to be a potential hazard to road users and pedestrians by the council.

Both neighbours were shocked when the dog yelped and lunged forward pulling the owner off balance

"Steady Rocky boy, calm down now", the owner yanked back on the lead but the dog was too strong for him and dragged him into the road.

"You alright there Tom", the neighbour felt very concerned as he watched the pair struggle in the road while a motorcycle was speeding towards them, only later would he notice the dead goldfish by his feet.

She had no time to think and steered away from the man and his dog that had lunged in the road in front of her; although she had slammed on the brakes she had no chance to slow down enough to avoid colliding with the open mouth of the tree shredder as it dispensed the last of a large tree limb, which was shredded and spat out into the back of a van. The wood chippings in the van were sprayed evenly with blood, flesh, bone and shredded crash helmet, before the shocked tree surgeon could hit the emergency stop button.
Two neighbours, two tree surgeons and a house owner that had stood watching the tree surgeons seemed to vomit in unison as the remains of the upper torso and legs hung out the front of the shredder, shaking violently.
Although the entire accident had happened some distance from him, he was aware of what had happened and was surprised to find he was quite shocked. Not only are the glasses clever and ingenious with their death solutions, but they are also very cruel. Removing the glasses he placed them in his breast pocket.

"Poor cow, I'm sure she didn't deserve that"

33 Days later, 7.51 am

The horror of the shredder had put a different perspective on the glasses, so they had been put away in a cupboard and to a degree had not even been thought about, until this morning.

Stony faced but with a dramatic swagger accenting the horrific facts, the news reader imparted his devastating news on the potential mass grave discovered by the police in the early hours of the morning. A man walking his dog had come across the grisly find, the dog in fact had dug up a bone while the owner was walking away wishing he was still in bed and dreading going to work that morning.

Very little detail was known (which is quite often the case, though they still take too much pleasure in telling you that every fifteen minutes), but the breaking news story continues crossing from here to there with different reporters all telling you there was nothing new to tell, but the story so far as we understand it is…..

Sometimes if you change channel, you can find out a little more detail, some are a little better informed than others it seems, but every news channel he tried knew as much as the other, which was not too much at all.

He didn't know why, but the story was important to him and he wanted to know more, it also set him thinking about the power of the glasses again and that they may be warranted in this case, however cruel they could be.

So the facts as he understood them were that the dog had run up to the owner with what appeared to be a large stick in its mouth. It was quite dark in the early hours and the owners mind was very distracted at the time, he had even thrown it a few times for the dog to fetch and didn't realise it was a human bone. It was only when he returned home and his wife started screaming when she saw the dog chewing on it, that it was discovered as a possible human bone. The police were phoned and the dog owner took them to where he had been walking his dog and the potential mass grave had been discovered.

If this mass grave developed into the kind of mass slaughter he felt it could, then he would need time off work in order to visit the area and begin his search.
Checking his watch he realised he didn't have time to listen to the looped news any more and had to leave, but he would keep himself updated on his computer during the course of the day. Before leaving the house he paused at the door, he looked over his shoulder at a draw on the right hand side of his writing bureau, where the glasses had been put over a month ago. No point in the glasses being in there any more, he thought to himself, wide positive strides carried him swiftly to the bureau; he pulled the draw open sharply, revealing the glasses which turned him into the ruthless vigilante that no one would ever know existed. You belong with me now; looks like we may have a big job to do and you can be as cruel as you fucking well like with this bastard.

2 Days later, 6:04 pm

There had been no factual updates from the police, further than what was already known on day one, total secrecy had for once been achieved by all in law enforcement, which bated the countries desperate appetite for news still further.
Almost fever pitch excitement was raised at the prospect of a police briefing
/ press conference which had finally been announced to the countries relief, to be held at 6pm in the evening. If there was only one news channel in the UK it would surely achieve higher ratings than any TV programme in history.

Fingers drummed rhythmically on the arm of the chair he sat in as he waited for the briefing to begin, with each passing minute his patience became more and more strained. He could almost feel heat from the glasses in the left hand breast pocket of his shirt as though they were equally inpatient.

"At last", tension built further as a well dressed man came into view and stood behind the centre of the three chairs lined up behind a table.

"Apologies for the delay ladies and Gentlemen, unfortunately I need you to be a little more patient as the briefing will be delayed a further ten minutes", sweat glistened on the nervous mans short hairline, a streak of sweat, caught in the well defined frown lines as he swiftly but awkwardly left the view of the TV screen, gasps and murmuring loudly filtered through the audience.

"I don't fucking believe it", he shouted angrily as he slammed his right fist down on the arm of the chair, "for fuck sake", the right fist pounded the arm of the chair a second time "bollocks" and a third. "Just tell us what the fuck is going on", he shook his fist at the screen, accenting every word with a punch in the TV's direction. "What the fuck is going on, oh no…… not a fucking power cut………. fuck sake not now", he found himself plunged into darkness, looking round the room he could see no light in the house and no light outside the house.

He rose to his feet, intent on heading to the kitchen, to retrieve a torch, then find the fuse box, change the fuse if necessary and still be sat down in time to hear the briefing, none of which would matter as the power cut was widespread due to the significantly increased use of power, due to millions of kettles around the country going on at the same time.
The anger he felt at his irritating situation caused him to be less cautious in moving around the darkened room than he should have been, which was highlighted by the fact that a rug rapped around his left foot and brought him down as accurately as a last gasp rugby tackle. It was for a split second the most bizarre sensation he had ever had, lunging forward in the dark and although he was in his own house in a room he knew well, he had absolutely no idea where he was and what he was heading into, he crashed back down to earth again chest first, his arms spread out in front of him.

Gradually he started feeling the different pains, from various parts of his body, as though they were all trying to grab his attention, a throbbing on his chin, the back of his neck and lower back. Both his knees felt bruised and there was a stinging pain in the left hand side of his chest.
He realised he was laid on his back and recalled roughly what had happened, he was still in darkness, completely unaware of where he was in the room and could not pick out any features to try and asses where he was. He groped around with his hands and winced at the increased pain from his lower back, there were no objects within a 360 radius of him as he lay there, so he would need to get to his knees and carefully crawl around, until he could figure out where he needed to go to, to get to the kitchen.

"Bollocks that hurts", shuffling on his knees, reaching out with his arms and groping with his hands, he slowly got himself to the kitchen, opened the cupboard door and found the torch. He held his breath before switching it on, knowing his luck the batteries would be dead. Click, bright light flooded the room, the torch could be turned into a mini lantern by pulling a cover back, which he did and set it on the floor.

He sat resting his upper back against a kitchen cupboard with his legs out in front of him checking his injuries. He noticed blood on his shirt on the left hand breast pocket.

"Oh no the glasses" reaching into the pocket he felt the pin prick of a little shard of glass as he pulled the glasses from his pocket. "Oh no, oh shit", the frame was bent, the right arm was bent, snapped and hanging loose and the glass in the right lens was shattered. There's no way they will work now, he thought to himself, I've fucked this right up.

9:17 pm

The power had been down for over an hour, he'd realised the whole neighbourhood was in total darkness, so there was no point in changing any fuses, or poking around in the fuse box.
He'd cleaned himself up, putting a small plaster on the cut on his chest and put on a T Shirt and jeans, he then dejectedly set about trying to repair the glasses. He poked out the remaining glass in the right hand lens, snapped the broken part of the right arm off and stuck it back together with tape, then bent the frame back in shape as far as he dare, without breaking the frame altogether.

Though he had missed the live airing, he watched a recording of the press conference that was on a loop and found out that if the glasses did still work, he desperately needed them now.

The police had discovered what appeared to be a mass grave, though it was difficult to determine how many bodies the grave contained. It was also difficult to asses who the victims were or could have been, as the police had not discovered any complete bodies, or part bodies, in fact the police had no bodies at all as the bones were stripped completely of flesh. The forensic experts were currently only able to determine four conclusive facts. The flesh had not decomposed, the bones had been stripped of flesh, secondly, children's bones had been discovered, as yet none of the bones had been identified as being part of an adult body, thirdly, the skeletal remains had been broken up, so that no two major bone structures remained intact and finaly, it was not a historic grave so the police were treating this as a current murder investigation.
It would be necessary for the pains taking process of piecing the skeletal remains back together, in order for an accurate count of the dead and further analysis and eventual identification to take place. A number of police forces around the country had already sent experts in the field to join the investigation team, with the potential for help from international law enforcement agencies.

The news was shocking, a child killer or killers were at large, the mutilation of the bodies of their victims was horrific and beyond comprehension, the chilling possibilities of what depraved and terrifying acts of inhumane cruelty their victims could have been subjected to while they were alive and in the clutches of the evil bastard or bastards, would haunt the country and all sympathetic nations of the world for many years to come.

If the glasses were a gift from the gods as his brother had said and now more than ever he hoped that was exactly what they were, then surely the gods would not rob him of the chance of identifying the bastards so they could take their pleasure in selecting the cruellest, most painful and horrific death, they could possibly conceive, at least a thousand times worse than the tree shredder death.

49 Days later, 1:52 pm

The glasses no longer worked, he had hoped that even with one lens missing, he could still see the blood as before, but he couldn't, not even through the lens that was undamaged.
He had visited the area of the child murders at least a dozen times in the first month, but thought it pointless going any more, as he could stare the killer in the face and be none the wiser.
There had been no further developments from the police investigation and thankfully no further murders, or maybe there was another grave to be discovered by accident. Either way it didn't matter to him any more, in fact not a lot did matter any more, he couldn't stand his job, though he still worked through financial necessity, didn't play golf or going fishing, in fact over the recent weeks he had become a loner and just stayed at home, feeling sorry for himself and regretting the damage to the glasses on the night of the black out. The only habit he still continued with was lunch in the park and again here he sat, eating the same BLT he always ate, taking as long as he always took, looking at the same scenery, his own private groundhog day.

It was a double take at first; his jaw stopped moving and if it weren't for the mouthful of sandwich, may well have dropped open. He sat and stared at her as she walked through the park; she smiled at the world almost bouncing as she walked, it reminded him of characters in the movies that had just fallen in love, where the world was a wonderful place and beauty could be seen wherever the eye may roam.

As she drew closer she noticed him staring, she smiled and said "Hi, It's a beautiful day isn't it"

"Your Dead", he thought the words, but they burst through his lips and the remainder of his chewed BLT, some of which dropped onto his lap.

"Oops", she said pointing to the food in his lap, he looked down and brushed it away as she said, "I feel fine, do I look that bad then", she still smiled and had a playful air about her.

"Sorry", he just felt confused now, if his brain had an engine room, you could have heard Scotty saying, "Captain, we cannot stand another attack, I'm trying to pick up the pieces here".

"I don't feel dead, do I look dead" she said through slightly stretched smiling lips, starting to now feel very unsure about the stranger sat in front of her.

"I saw you die", again he thought the words and again they made it past his lips, "I can give 20 percent impulse power captain, raise the shields, we're like a sitting duck here". This time Scotty managed to get a reaction from him and he pulled himself together a bit, but the woman was now on her guard, her smile was vanishing fast. "Sorry, what I mean is I saw an accident a few months ago and a lady was killed, down the road there", the woman looked to where he pointed then looked back at him, "The woman looked a lot like you".

A few moments past, a new sorrowful look spread across the ladies face, she pulled a handkerchief from her bag and dabbed the corner of her eyes, before replacing it in her bag.

"She looked almost identical to me….. She was my twin sister" She paused as though recalling fond memories, after which she seemed to have developed a mischievous smile, "We used to do so much together, life is so much emptier without her, I feel I can't carry on with the things we used to enjoy doing together"

"It must be so difficult for you", sorrow and guilt washed over him; until he had to look away, to try and conceal the part he played in her death. "It must be lonely living without her now", he began to settle back into his own self pity, he knew what it felt like to live alone.

"It's lonely alright, but I never lived with her anyway, we spent as much time together as we could, special times", again her smile seemed out of place to him, "Mainly weekends I would come stay with her, but more often than not she came to stay with me", her face seemed to be brightening up swiftly as though a series of happier memories were raising her spirits, "We did quite a bit of travelling as well"
"Are you from around here then", he found it almost impossible to read her, he thought he should maybe shut up, say sorry and hope she would leave, but he found his interest in her approaching addictive, he had to know more.

"No", she was abrupt and almost guarded, but then more relaxed she continued, "I've moved into my sisters house, I guess I've been here nearly two months".

"Are you selling your house then?"

"I would if it hadn't burned to the ground, I lived in a flat and shortly after I moved here the block was burned out, completely gutted, the police suspect arson, but haven't collared anyone yet and I doubt they will. I'm surprised I haven't seen you around, it's quite a small town, don't you get out very much"

"I've spent quite a few weekends away, where that mass grave was found", he didn't know if he was more surprised by his own stupidity at revealing so much, even though he was caught on the hop by her question, or the lack of a shock or surprise to his revelation, she didn't even seem interested, even so he felt compelled to explain further, "I've been doing quite a bit of work in the area", "Captain we've no impulse power the shields are useless, one more direct hit and we're finished", even Scotty knew that if she asked what line of business he'd had, then he was sunk, but to his surprise her face suddenly lit up.

"That's where my flat was, what a small world", she looked at her watch, "I don't want to seem rude but I have to be on my way, it was nice to meet you, maybe I'll bump into you again, bye", her cheerful tone faded as did her smile, she turned and continued on her way. He noted her pace was more determined than her previous relaxed and cheerful stroll, suddenly his gut instinct kicked in, "Mr Sulu, set phasers on stun, full power", "Aye Captain"

"Excuse me miss", "fire one", she stopped in her tracks and turned around, a slight look of irritation was soon transformed into her delightful smile, "I know you're in a hurry, but I must quickly show you something", striding purposely towards her he reached into his breast pocket, "Look at the state of my glasses, I broke them"

She stood stunned for a second, looking at the man in front of her, wearing a stupid pair of glasses, with a lens missing, tape all over them and they didn't even sit on his face properly, was that the most stupid thing she had ever seen, or was it his smug look of satisfaction, "You fucking idiot, take your stupid glasses and piss off, because believe me, you don't want to cross me", her face burning with rage she turned away and strode away even quicker than before.

The glasses still worked, her face was dripping with blood, worse than her sister, he now understood why the sister's death was so severe, the sisters were the child butchers. If he could still see the blood with the glasses then they could maybe still carry out the proposed penalty of death. Originally he was desperate for the death to be slow and agonising, but lately he just wanted the killer gone and no trace ever to be found as though they had not ever existed. His brother's death had given him the idea, "I want you to go up in flames and then burn forever down in hell".
He watched eagerly as she strode away, he chuckled as he waited, any second now he would hear the screams, see flames shooting in the air and then she would be gone, but step after step nothing happened, she drew further and further away, all hope fading as she disappeared from view.
Removing the glasses, he looked at them in his hand and sighed, "So you can catch em, but you can't kill em"; he folded them and replaced them into his pocket, "Looks like I'm gonna have to do it for you".

29 days later, 6:06 pm

It was very dangerous to carry out the execution himself, he had tried a few more times with the glasses, but had no success. He'd been watching her from a distance for several weeks, it had become his obsession. Several warnings from his boss had arrived through the post or on his answer phone, threatening the sack, if he didn't return to work with a damn good reason why he had been absent. He dressed scruffily and was mainly unshaven, with wild untidy hair. He smelled of urine and body odour, he was not at all the kind of person that could be in public and not get noticed. This was not important to him though as he only cared about planning and executing the death of that bitch.
Over the weeks he had noticed she had a fairly organised life and was a creature of habit, he planned to use that to his advantage. He had decided that he would kill her in a road accident, not as glamorous and stylish as the glasses would have it, but he didn't want to get caught.
Every Wednesday she would ride her sisters motorbike to a bikers pub, meet and chat for a couple of hours and then would always leave on her own and would take the same country road ride home on her own. He would wait for her and run her down on the country road, but not in his own car, no he had come up with the perfect plan, he would steal her own car and use it to kill her, perfect.
A few minutes on the internet was all he needed to learn how to break into her car and hot wire it. He'd even bought a second hand car the same as hers and practised on it, in the privacy of his garage, getting his breaking, entering and engine start times, down to the kind of times that would impress many a car thief.

Roaring up the road, she was oblivious to the scruffy stranger that turned the corner onto her street, he walked slowly up the road, looking for anyone that could be around to see him and witness the car theft, but the street was empty.
He walked into her driveway, which was a car thief's Shangri-La, surrounded by high hedges that needed to be cut back. It seemed like only brief moments before he was in the car and pulled out of her driveway, still no witnesses around he noted, he allowed himself a small smile and a pat on the back, so far so good.
Sticking to at least three miles an hour under the speed limits, so as not to attract any unwanted attention, he made his way carefully to the country lanes. He arrived at the spot he intended to wait in, again he had watched this over the last couple of weeks and found rarely did any traffic pass.

It seemed an eternity before night fall and the 30 minute countdown to her arrival. Time after time as he waited he had put gloves on in preparation and then had to take them off again as his hands were sweating.
Having watched dramas on television in the past, he was aware of the possibility of leaving forensic evidence, so he had shaved all his bodily hair off, wearing a baseball cap, to hide his sudden baldness. He also planned to torch the car after the collision, which he believed would destroy any forensic evidence that could place him at the scene. He memorised a route to walk back to civilisation, away from roads and possible witnesses, which would eventually bring him to a cycle rack, where he had locked up and left a cheap looking bike, that he hoped would still be there.
Less than ten minutes to go, engine on in case she is early, gloves on, check the dash board make sure no engine warning lights are showing, make sure no lights are on in or on the car. It is a cool evening but he could not see the vapour from his exhaust fumes, don't want any unexpected passing traffic to see him there.
"Yes", he heard the roar of the engine before he saw the single headlamp in the distance, he checked the road both ways to ensure it was clear and then slowly pulled out, with the exterior and interior lights still off, he did not want her to see him until it was too late.
He lined the car up on the road with her approaching motorcycle, knowing that the darkness under the tree's would not be penetrated sufficiently by the headlight of her bike until it was too late, then he wanted to be seen.

Closer and closer the bike came, louder and louder the engine grew, still accelerating, she did not know he was there; his breathing became short and excited, almost like a dog panting.

"Now", he shouted out as he thrust his right foot to the floor, the car's engine roared out of it's idle state and lurched forward, he wanted to accelerate hard, but did not want her to hear the car, so he needed to calm down and keep the acceleration smooth, keeping the revs low. Dropping from first to third gear, the engine settled and accelerated slowly, the racing scream of the engine dropped to a purr and then an increasing growl. He looked directly at her as she drew closer, looking at her distant head and shoulders, the speedometer on the car read 24 – 30 – 37, now close enough to see the outline of her upper body and crash helmet, fourth gear 40 – 42, he stared at the crash helmet hoping to be looking into her startled eyes when he hit the headlights straight onto full beam.

"Die bitch", the lights flooded the road with intense bright light when he flicked them on, his car was travelling at 45 miles per hour, he did not see into her eyes as he wished, in fact he didn't even see her, she didn't see him, she didn't see the car, she did not know it was her car and neither of them felt the collision.

He had blacked out momentarily and slowly became aware that he had been fortunate in one respect, other than hitting her motorcycle he had stayed on the road and had not veered off into the woods, had that happened, he probably wouldn't have woken up. He was unfortunate in the respect that the windscreen had shattered; showering him with glass, cutting his cheeks and chin, the baseball cap had protected his upper face. Getting home incognito had become more difficult.

He noticed the engine was still running, but it did not sound too good at all, he could still move and he wasn't aware of anything being broke, he just felt bruised from head to toe, he had not expect this, he was not supposed to get hurt.
He slowly raised his head to look in the rear view mirror, to see if he could see her in the road behind, he was pleased to see that he could, he was not pleased to see that she was moving.

"No, die you bitch", How on earth did she survive that, she should have been smashed to a pulp. Reaching his left hand forward he felt the tip of the gear stick, it was in neutral, he must have knocked it during the collision, left hand / arm and foot thrust forward during the intense pressure of the impact.
Pressing his left foot down he slipped the gear stick into reverse, he checked in the rear view mirror again to see her still in the road behind, but trying to pull herself along with her arms. He jammed the accelerator to the floor, the engine responded and moved the car but it did not accelerate very hard, he tried to steer using the rear view mirror, but only succeeded in running over her legs.
Her screams of agony initially went unheard as the car screeched to a halt and the engine died.

"No", he thumped the steering wheel, "you should be dead, you should be dead", she began pulling herself forward again, he could hear her screaming and sobbing. Reaching forward under the steering wheel, he tried to restart the engine, but it was stone dead. "Let's finish this", he opened the car door and practically fell out of the car.

"Leave me, leave me, who the fuck are you, why are you doing this"

He slowly picked himself up and walked round the front of the car and sat on the bonnet exhausted, she had taken off her crash helmet and threw it at him in rage.

"Fuck off you cunt, stay away from me, I'll fucking kill you", she tried to pull herself away as she screamed at him, making little headway, her shattered legs trailing behind her.
He sat and watched her, trying to gain as much strength as he could, before the final act.
Getting nowhere fast she broke down in tears and sobbed uncontrollably, he'd heard enough, it was time; he raised himself to his feet

"Your going to kill me aren't you, why are you going to kill me, why me", she sobbed, her pleading eyes trying reason with the stranger as he approached.

"I stand for the children, the girls and the boys that you slaughtered with your sister, for the horrific deaths they suffered and the mutilation of their bodies"

"How could you know, who are you"

"I'm the one chosen to find evil and destroy it, I'm here to bring justice for the Children"

"I'm sorry for what we did to them; I don't know why we did it, it was her idea not mine", her body shuddered with every word she sobbed out

He picked up the crash helmet she threw at him and walked to where she lay helpless.

She looked up into his eyes, "I didn't want to hurt any of those poor children the police found, I didn't want to do it", he began to feel pity on her as he looked down on her defenceless body, "but I did want to hurt the fuckers that haven't been found yet, ha ha ha"
He was stunned, by her words, her demeanour changed, she was no longer a victim, she was vicious and evil.

"Kill me and you won't find the little cunts, leave me alive and I probably won't tell you where they are anyway you fucking little prick, ha ha ha ha"

The crash helmet came smashing down on her head, again and again, cracking of bone, splashing of blood, smash, smash, smash, life had left her body but still the blows rained down, it only stopped when the crash helmet slipped out of his gloved hand.
He trudged wearily and painfully back to the car and sat on the bonnet, surveying the carnage before him, in the dim light of the fading car headlamps. That was the easy part he thought to himself, now comes the hard part, getting home without being seen.

8 days later, 2:11 pm

The cuts on his face had healed quite well and fairly quickly; they had even helped his alibi with his boss. The excuse of the car accident while visiting his brother was accepted, but he still received a formal warning, for not contacting his boss to advise of what had happened.

Both the mass grave murders and the bizarre biker babe hit and run murder, were ongoing and seemed to be heading nowhere fast, well at least he hoped so with the latter. He wished he had someone he could confide in, as he was bursting to tell how it was he managed to get home from the biker babe murder, without being seen by anyone, it was ingenious.

But it was just another day, the bench hadn't changed, neither had the sandwich, life was not great, it was not back to normal, but he was relieved, physically and mentally drained, but relieved.

"Those glasses are funny mister"

A little girl had walked up to him and he was completely oblivious to the fact, he looked where she was pointing and he saw the glasses on the bench next to him.

"Put the funny glasses on mister, I bet you will look like a funny clown"

Without thinking he reached down, put them on and pulled a funny face

"You look funny" she giggled, "you look funny in them, do they make me look funny too"

"Yes sweetheart", he replied, his face drawn and pale, "yes I'm afraid you do".

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Reviews

Alexandria Aug 9, 2012

I love it! Great job!

Steven Drake Aug 10, 2012

Thanks Alexandria, "Bear Shirt" coming soon, will put on my profile before it is released :)

Leanne Jul 25, 2012

really awsome story :-D x

Steven Drake Aug 6, 2012

many Thanks Leanne, please also read "Unforgettable" on my profile and let me know what you think, hope you had a great weekend

Jul 19, 2012

Not bad, not bad at all. :)

Steven Drake Aug 6, 2012

Thanks for the feedback Johhny, i have another story on my profile, "Unforgettable", please read and let me know what you think, it has a touch of humour, have a nice day

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