Everyday Psychopaths, Page 2

Terry loved candlelight dinners and red wine. It was a nice contrast from work and killing people. Because although he also loved killing people, it was sometimes very hard work.

  He looked across the table at his date, Sheila, who looked spectacular in a shiny blue dress and pearl necklace. He adored her “bun hairstyle”, it was very elegant, almost too elegant to be on a head like Sheila’s.

  He sipped his glass of Chateu Lafite and let the warming liquid roll around in his mouth.

  “You are so beautiful, I could eat you,” he said.

  And it was true. Her smile was as intoxicating as the wine.

  And he could eat her.

  Not that he had eaten lots of people in his life, he had only nibbled on some victims or torn a piece of a woman’s ear with his teeth when he got a little bit extra excited, but not eaten per se. No cutlery, no frying of body parts, no head on a plate.

  Just nibbles.

  But maybe different this time?

  Sheila giggled like a little girl. She was happy this date, set up by her friend Fiona, was going in the right direction. Terry was a handsome man, tall, well-built, and had a cleft on his chin like Clive Owen and a generous portion of raven black hair on his head. He was eloquent and quite a gentleman too. Could this be the one? she thought to herself and couldn’t help but smile again.

  “You have really nice teeth,” Terry said and thought they could be excellent for his collection of exquisite human body parts. He had learned that most people had at least one body part to be proud of, no matter how ugly the other parts were.

  And no part was ever as ugly as what was in their brains and hearts.

  “Thanks,” Sheila said slightly surprised, “That’s the first time I hear that.”

  “Maybe you don’t use them much, because you have such a nice figure.” Terry said, generous with his remarks. He had learned how to charm a woman by now. After all, this was his 30th one. Maybe it called for a bit of extra celebration? Champagne for dessert? Or maybe just a little treat for himself when he got back to the house? He smiled at the thought. He liked treating himself to something nice now and then.

  After all, that was what life was all about.

  “So what do you do and how did you meet Fiona?”

  Questions. They were inevitable and annoying, but for the moment rather easy to dodge. Still, he preferred to be the one asking.

  “I’m afraid it might bore you. I’m a management consultant, which means I help companies become more efficient and often downsize their organizations. It pays well, but it can be awfully dull.”

  “You have to fire people and stuff like that?”

  “Yeah, sometimes. It’s the worst part, but most of the time it all turns out for the best. For both sides.”

  In fact Terry didn’t think it was the worst part. He was excellent at getting rid of people and proud of it too.

  “Sounds like a tough job.” Fiona was bored with the topic already. Good, thought Terry.

  “It’s tough sometimes, but it nets rewarding results.”

  “You met Fiona through work then? I haven’t talked to her since she called me about this possible date and told me you’re the perfect guy.”

  Little did she know that Fiona was now in Terry’s basement, chopped to pieces. It was a bit funny talking about Fiona as a living person, Terry thought.

  A trifle morbid.

  “We met at bar actually. That’s when she called you. We started talking and I complained to her how difficult it was to find a good woman and she said she had the perfect one for me. Afterwards she called you and set up this date. I don’t know her well, but she seems like a really nice person.” At least she had perfect ears, Terry thought.

  “Oh, Fiona is more than nice,” Sheila replied, “she’s the best. We’ve known each other since high school and she’s one of my closest friends.”

  Terry had received a text to Fiona’s phone from Sheila about how nervous she was about tonight and he had sent a message on the dead girl’s behalf that she needn’t worry. It was all going to turn out just fine.

  It was. In a way.

  They both received their rib-eyes, Fiona’s well-done and Terry’s almost rare, with slivers of red juice seeping out of it as soon as he poked it with his fork. This got him a little bit excited, because he loved meat. Of all kinds.

  He cut a perfect piece and thought how much he missed his knives at home - the ones sharp enough to cut through bone. Here he had to almost saw the meat, but he didn’t let it bother him too much. A slow process was sometimes sexier.

  Sheila ate with gusto, her beautiful teeth tearing the meat apart efficiently. He watched her with a spark in his eyes and she flirted right back. Things were going well and he had no doubt in his mind she would happily follow him home after dessert.

  Where there would be more red juice.

  The evening progressed and since Terry had made up his mind to celebrate his 30th victim, he ordered two glasses Moet Chandon to go with the excellent Pannacetta with poached rhubarb. They toasted to the fortune of meeting each other and Terry was happy to notice a slight slur creeping into Sheila’s voice. If she could just be a little bit drunker, everything would go much more smoothly. He made an effort to toast a number of times and as soon as her glass was empty he quickly ordered a refill.

  “This is the best date I’ve ever been to.” Sheila said, out of the blue.

  “Me too.” Terry lied. He found Sheila too easy to be the best, as he liked a bit of resistance. Not that he had a horrible time with her, but lately he had grown more and more impatient with his victims in waiting for the grande finale.

  But all good things in due time, he reminded himself.

  “All the guys I go out with turn out to be such assholes. I don’t know how I do it, it’s like I have some built-in need for self destruction.”

  More than you will ever know, thought Terry and had to force himself not to chuckle. Laughter came later.

  “They’re either drunks or just out for a quick lay. I think I’ve never met a guy who seems to have it all under control. Good job, nice looks, and who is also moral and kind.”

  Terry couldn’t help but smile at that. This was becoming rather humorous, the girl was absolutely taken by him and soon she was going to be permanently taken by him. He wished he had someone to share the irony with.

  “I think we all deserve to be lucky some day. I rarely meet girls who are so alive and vibrant. Most of the ones I hang around are dead boring.” Mostly dead, he thought to himself. Man, was he cracking himself up tonight!

  Sheila laughed and Terry joined her.

  “What do you say, should we go to my place for a drink? I rent a townhouse not far from here, we can drink some nice wine, listen to music and talk until you’re bored with me. Then I’ll drive you home of course.”

  “Sounds like a great idea,” Sheila said and gave him another flirtatious smile. She saw no problem in following Terry home, she simply couldn’t see how this night wasn’t going to turn out perfectly.

  Terry paid and left a handsome tip, they put on their coats and headed out into the slightly chilly autumn night.

  “My car is parked over there,” Terry said and pointed towards his spotless vintage Aston Martin.

  Sheila locked arms with Terry and they started walking. Too easy, Terry thought for a second before he heard a voice.

  “Sheila? Sheila?”

  Someone was shouting her name. Terry pretended to ignore it and increased his step slightly.

  “Sheila?” Suddenly the sound was closer, just behind them in fact. They turned around and Terry saw a young man with long hair, dressed in worn jeans and brown leather jacket. The man looked worse for wear and had a slightly drunken look in his eyes.

  “Hi James,” Sheila said, sounding disappointed.

  “Hi sis, I saw you from across the street and I wanted to talk to you.”

  “This is my brother James,” Sheila said to Terry. Terry raised out his hand towards Jam
es. “And this is Terry.” Sheila said to James, who took Terry’s hand and shook it, awkwardly.

  “You think I can borrow some money? I’m heading to the pub and I’m almost broke.” This was normal when it came to James, he was unemployed, drank too much and almost always broke. It hurt Sheila every time she saw him. This was not the person she had grown up with.

  “You have to stop drinking, James. I hate to see you like this.”

  “Like what?” James feigned ignorance.

  “Down and drunk. I’m your sister you know and I need you to get your act together.”

  Terry was becoming very annoyed at having to stand and talk to a complete lowlife when he was so close to sealing the deal on number 30. He wondered why Sheila just wouldn’t give the bum brother some money and let him go drink himself to death. People like him wasn’t worth the life they lived. Neither was Sheila though.

  To stop this situation quickly he told her, “I’ll give him a fifty, don’t worry about it.”

  This perked James ears. This dude, who looked almost like a movie star, would give him 50 quid just to drop out of sight. It could mean that he really was a rich bastard with the hots for Sheila or that he intended to rape her.

  But the guy was probably just used to buying away his problems, James thought to himself.

  “You don’t need to give him any money, Terry,” Sheila said. “How are you, James? You look sad.”

  James gave her a quirky little smile, “You know me, sis, when I’m broke, I’m blue.”

  Terry was desperate to get going and forked out a 50 pound note from his wallet and handed it to James.

  “I can’t accept your money, man. It doesn’t feel right.” James said, wondering what Terry’s reaction would be. He got a bad vibe from this guy, but he couldn’t really put his finger on it.

  “Just take it.” Terry said, firm in his voice.

  “But Terry.” Sheila squealed, embarrassed at seeing her brother as some kind of charity case. What had gone wrong anyway? They both had the same parents, the same solid upbringing and while Sheila had studied hard and wanted to go places, James had found trouble. Again, and again, and again.

  After a few seconds deliberating, James took the money. “Thanks, mate. I’ll pay you back sometime.”

  Terry smiled and said: “No need. Enjoy your evening and don’t worry, I’ll take care of your sister.” What was 50 pound for a perfect set of teeth anyway? Or a human life? Well, he had to add dinner to that of course, but it still came up on the plus side for him.

  It always did.

  “Don’t go and waste all that money on drinks now, James. Save some.” Sheila looked at her brother with concern and she knew it would likely land on deaf ears. James was set on self-destruction, always had been, and someone, including himself, had yet to find the cure.

  “Don’t worry,” James said. Deep down he knew there was a risk he was going to lose all of it straight away, but right now he couldn’t care less. The funny feeling he had about the generous and elegant man lingered.

  “We’re going to head off now. Take care of yourself, James. I’ll call you tomorrow to check on you.”

  “Yeah, sure.” James somehow didn’t want to leave his sister with this man. “Where are you going by the way?”

  “We’re going for a drink at Terry’s place. It’s not too far from here, is it Terry?” Sheila looked at Terry who had started to sweat. He didn’t like this James character one bit. What an idiot! And for a moment he thought he ought to kill him as well. Save the world from one more redundant human being.

  “Yeah, ten minutes drive.”

  “Which area?”

  Won’t this guy just shut the fuck up, thought Terry. Soon he was going to have to kill him, as he was compromising the whole situation.

  “I rent a a townhouse in Chelsea.” After this whole London adventure was through, he was going do what he always did - clean it out and leave without a trail. It seemed like he might have to do it sooner than he initially had planned though.

  “Okay,” said James, not sure what to do with the information. He didn’t want to leave her sister alone that’s all. “You wouldn’t want to come out for a drink or two? A quick one? I’m buying,” he said and chuckled.

  Terry realized he wasn’t going to lose James and he was getting both tired and frustrated. The brother was a pest and needed to be dealt with as well, unless Sheila would find a way to say no. But he didn’t deem it likely. Her brother was obviously a soft spot for her.

  Sheila gave Terry a troubled look. She didn’t want to let her brother down and yet she still felt like being alone with her date.

  “Ehh...” she said, unsure on how deal with the situation.

  “Why don’t you come with us to my place? I have plenty to drink and afterwards I’ll call you a cab.”

  Sheila felt warmth in her heart for this kind man, who only did not treat her like royalty, but who also took her brother in with amazing generosity. Maybe this really was the one?

  “Wow, that’s really nice of you, mate.” James thought for a second that he had been wrong about the guy. It seemed strange that he also wanted to invite him to his place, greatly limiting his chances of getting frisky with Sheila. He seemed too kind and that was a bit suspicious in itself.

  But maybe he was just being a nice guy, it wasn’t unheard of. Just very rare.

  “Let’s go then.” Terry said and motioned them towards where he had parked his car. There was going to be two deaths tonight he thought to himself. He would have to be extra focused and fast not to create complications. He liked to use the element of surprise to avoid any chasing or fighting or bruising of the body parts he desired. One swift stab or cut was sometimes enough, but with two people things could quickly become more difficult. More gory.

  On the other hand he liked the challenge. And in the few minutes he had known him, he had learned to hate James, which gave him a jolt of adrenaline.

  Death is a beautiful thing, he almost said out loud as he unlocked the door to his Aston Martin.

  “This is a fantastic car.” James said, before stepping into the vehicle. “Set you back a bit, huh?”

  “It’s not cheap if that’s what you’re asking.” Terry said, “But ever since I saw James Bond as a kid, I’ve wanted an Aston Martin like this. So it’s kind of a dream come true to drive in one every day.”

  “It’s amazing,” Sheila said and sat down in the front seat next to Terry. The man was unlike anyone she had ever met, he seemed to have it all.

  The traffic was easy going and 12 minutes later they were walking towards the door of Terry’s rented Chelsea townhouse.

  “Fancy,” James said.

  Terry opened the front door and let them inside a long parquet hallway. He realized the townhouse looked like no-one was living in it, full of luxurious furniture and objects, but without a sign of life. No stained mugs near the sink, no open books on the coffee table, no smells. Nothing. It was too clean.

  Except for the basement of course.

  “Wow! This is an amazing house. You rent this?” Sheila looked around with big eyes. Terry watched her from the corner of his eye, while he was filling wine glasses in the open-plan kitchen and living area.

  “Yeah, the company I work for rent per assignment. This year I’m working in London. Next year in New York or Dubai maybe. It depends.”

  This made Sheila’s heart sink a bit. Had she really imagined a future for them? And how was that future going to be with Terry having to move around for his work? But she knew she was getting ahead of herself. Like always.

  “Sounds like a pretty swell job you have.” James said, as he was being handed his glass of red.

  “It’s not bad,” Terry said and gave the other glass to Sheila. Who should I kill first, he thought. Two people was definitely a twist to him.

  “What do you do yourself?” Terry countered towards James, knowing the answer would likely embarrass him.

  James was immediately
uncomfortable. He hated answering that question, like the only thing that mattered in life was your career. Not everyone’s made up to play with pens and papers, he thundered inside his own head.

  “I work a bit here and there, depending on what pops up. And I’m in a band.”

  “A band?” Terry contained his laughter. It seemed like everybody who couldn’t find a normal job was in a band. A band of losers.

  “Yeah, we play lots of Stones covers, 60-70s stuff. I’m on rhythm guitar. We do weddings, birthdays and pub gigs.” James thought there was no point in telling a guy like Terry any of this. He probably listened to Beethoven and Stravinsky while smelling his own rank farts.

  “Interesting.” Terry said, absentmindedly. How was he going to separate the two and stab him? He had to do it quietly, because he didn’t want Sheila to be a sloppy job. He needed her in close to mint condition.

  Sheila regretted bringing James, he didn’t seem to be in a good mood and it made things between her and Terry a lot more awkward. She just wanted to help her brother and take care of him, but sometimes it seemed awfully difficult, helping someone who didn’t want to be helped or just didn’t realize he needed it.

  She took a sip of wine and played with a lock of her thick red hair. Maybe if James could take a taxi somewhere so the evening could progress the way she wanted it to. She was afraid her brother was going to scare Terry away.

  Like Terry had heard her request he excused himself and exited the room. Sheila waited a few seconds and leaned over towards James and whispered: “Can you please drink up and take a cab somewhere? It’s kind of weird us all being here.”

  James had noticed his sister’s mood change as soon as they arrived and he knew what she had in mind, a night alone with the rich and handsome mystical man. There were possibly already wedding bells going off in the back of her head. But he couldn’t leave her here could he? Could he really trust that smug bastard?

  “I don’t like the guy and I don’t want to leave you alone with him.” James wheezed back and finished his glass.

  “What? What’s not to like?” Sheila gave him a cold stare. She was starting to become very annoyed with her brother.

  “I don’t know. He creeps me out. There’s something about him I just can’t shake. Let’s go, okay?”

  “No. I don’t want to go. Sorry, but after knowing you all my life, I can’t trust your instincts.”

  Right at this moment, Terry came back. Now with a super sharp pocket knife in his pants pocket and ready to put an end to this tiring evening. He noticed some new tension in the room, signs of an argument.

  “Care for some more wine?” he asked James.

  “Nah, I think I might be heading to the city. A friend just texted me.” James rose from his chair and stretched out his hands to Terry. “Thanks for the wine and take care of my sister.” He gave Terry a stern look. He might be a loser, but he wasn’t going to let some jackass hurt his sister. Emotionally or physically. He eyed Sheila as he put on his jacket, “Take care, sis. Text me, okay?”

  “I will.” Sheila said, relieved to have James leaving, but still feeling sorry for him. He always seemed to land into situations where he had to excuse himself. It was a sad talent.

  Terry wanted to rub his hands at the perfect development, but then he realized it might be a problem to have James on his case. The brother was of the suspicious kind and he might prove to be a problem if he didn’t hear from his sister tomorrow. After all, he had been in his apartment, his car and knew too much already. He would have to be taken care of somehow.

  He could take him down to the basement, show him something, push him down the stairs, stab him, something like that, but he felt there was too much risk involved in dealing with both of them at the same time. Too many things could wrong. No, better to let him go, take care of Sheila and then text him from her phone to meet up someplace. The SMS-trick always worked.

  James was on his way out the door. “Text me, okay sis?” He reminded her, while opening the thick white door and letting in the cool evening air. “Of course,” Sheila said, her arms crossed.

  They all said bye and Terry and Sheila returned to the living room. “Sorry about my brother, he can be a bit forward. He’s just had a tough life and I don’t like him drinking on his own or with his stupid friends.”

  “Understood. He seems like a nice guy, maybe he’s just a bit lost.” Terry knew how to say exactly what women wanted to hear. It was an ability he had picked up over the years and which had served him like a charm since he started his little body part collection project.

  “Yeah, he’s lost alright. What about another glass of wine?” Sheila said and smiled towards Terry. Now she was going to let the evening unfold naturally.

  Terry poured two glasses of wine as Sheila sat down by the fireplace. “Would you ever consider living in London? I mean you seem to think it’s a very nice city.” Sheila asked him.

  Terry took a healthy sip and replied, “I like London, always have. Not sure about living here though, lots of the time I’m kind of living out of a suitcase. But I would maybe consider it, if something special happened, like if I met someone and wanted to settle down.” Terry liked this part, where he put wings on a dream and then cut them right off. Literally. It was enjoyable to see the expression on them when the dreams in they had built up in their heads became nightmares.

  “So you’re waiting for Ms. Right?” said Sheila, excitement brushing her body. This could be a special night indeed.

  “You could say that.” Terry gave her the most sincere smile he could muster. Which obviously wasn’t very sincere.

  He took a sip of the wine and studied her, besides that beautiful smile, her face was rather disproportionate, her eyes too close to each other, the nose a little crooked. But her smile was beautiful with those perfectly shaped, crystal white teeth and that was what he wanted. What he craved.

  “You know what? I have something to show you, something I think you would like.” He said and smiled.

  Meanwhile, James sat down at a small pub in Chelsea not far from Terry’s rented townhouse and ordered a pint of Stella. He had lots of thoughts whirling around in his head that he wanted to kill and the best way to do it was to have a drink. He just couldn’t shake the thought that this guy Terry was up to no good, that his sister would end up getting hurt one way or the other. He had seen guys like that before, super slick, attractive, picking up women with the flick of a finger and then dumping them just as easily. His sister deserved better, but she didn’t know it and right now she was too taken by the bastard to listen to anything her brother said. Nobody ever listened to anything he said, it felt like.

  He finished the first pint quickly. He had always been a fast drinker, almost like the drink would go bad if he didn’t empty it in time. He knew he should focus on getting his act together, but he didn’t know how. He wanted some kind of lucky break or sign of some kind, but he had yet to find one. The world was cruel.

  The bar was buzzing, but he didn’t feel like talking to anyone. He just felt like drinking and trying to quell the demons in his head.

  By the third pint, he realized he couldn’t shake this Terry guy from his head. He had to go and get his sister, he didn’t care how angry she would get. Better angry than hurt. Besides, he was used to people being angry with him.

  He drank up, paid the bill and walked back towards the house. On the way, he wrote his sister a text that he really needed her company tonight and that he was going to pass by the house again.

  But Sheila didn’t reply, because she was hanging unconscious in a harness in Terry’s basement while Terry was laying out his shining steel tools on the adjacent table. He was carefully studying all her body parts, most of it was junk, but she had nice and delicate wrists that might prove useful. He wondered if he should kill her or talk to her a bit first. He liked to give the victim a final chance to say what was on their mind. The room they were in was well sound-proofed so she could scream her lungs out if
she liked to.

  And they usually liked to.

  James was starting to have doubts about forcing his sister to leave with him. Maybe he was completely in the wrong? That would make another embarrassing blow to his already broken ego. But as he was twisting and turning the thought in his head, he knew he’d rather do something stupid than neglect his sister. Even if the chance of her getting hurt was 0,1 percent.

  Screw this shit! He thought to himself and stopped in the middle of the street. What am I doing? Have my drinking made me paranoid, dreaming up stories to make my life more interesting and to feel more useful? He looked at his feet and then up the street again. Should he or shouldn’t he? A beer might help him think this through properly.

  The room slowly came to her like a kaleidoscope of colors. Piece by piece the blur became solid shapes and she could start to make out her surroundings. She felt an excruciating pain in her head, like she had hit it very, very hard. And for some reason she was hanging in a kind of sling and she couldn’t move because her limbs were tied.

  “There, there,” a voice spoke.

  “Huh?”

  “Hey beautiful.” She looked to the left and saw Terry standing there with a smile on his face and a pair of evil-looking clippers, resembling some kind of dentist appliance.

  She screamed out loud.

  But Terry was as calm as a cucumber. “I understand you’re confused and you might be in some pain because you hit your head. But don’t worry, you’re in good hands with me.”

  Fear bounced around inside Sheila’s head. Was Terry some kind of psycho? Was he going to kill her? Why was she always attracted to the wrong men?

  “I have someone I want you to meet,” said Terry and went inside an adjacent room.

  When he came out he was holding a human head, the head of her friend Fiona.

  And Sheila fainted.

  James internal struggle tore him to bits and he had walked three steps back towards the pub when a voice in the far back of his head got the better of him and he skipped around and started striding towards Terry’s house. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong.

  Sheila woke up again and screamed out loud. She screamed so hard it felt like her lungs could burst any moment.

  “It’s pointless to scream, my dear.” Terry said with a grin on his face, “This is all very soundproofed. In fact, I could invite a symphony orchestra down here and the neighbors wouldn’t hear a note.”

  “Who are you and what have you done to Fiona?” she said, desperation now taking over her voice completely. She realized she was going to die here, but for the moment death didn’t scare her, only the journey there.

  “I have made her more beautiful. You see, humans are despicable and disgusting beings. Their thoughts and emotions are pathetic and their efforts to live what they call a “meaningful life” is so pointless and ridiculous that I cannot talk about it without clenching my fist. The only beautiful thing on a human is, in certain cases, the body. And rarely the whole body, but one part, one limb that is close to perfection. I collect these parts and free the world of the redundant bits.”

  “So with Fiona you freed her of her head? Is that how your twisted mind works?” Sheila spat at Terry.

  Terry laughed heartily, “No, not her head, didn’t you notice the ears were missing? That was the only part I liked. The rest was pretty much crap. Especially the brain,” he said and laughed again.

  James rang the doorbell. No reply. He looked around to see if someone was coming and then leaned against the thick frame, trying to make out something, but he only found silence. He rang it again, several times, but nothing. This was starting to feel very weird to him. How could they not hear the bell? Or did they just ignore it? Maybe they were upstairs making out and he was just wrong and possibly pathetic?

  He rang again to still his mind, but the mind couldn’t be stilled. He called Sheila’s cellphone, but like he predicted, there was no reply there either. Just dead silence ringing out into the night like an ominous nothing.

  He had to do something.

  “You know what I like about you?” said Terry to Sheila while he gently caressed the blade. I like your teeth. You have really shining, beautifully shaped, white teeth which is very rare these days, especially since they look natural.”

  Sheila had gone from screaming out in panic to a calm assurance of death and trying to look for ways to make it a fast and relatively painless one. But her guess was that Terry didn’t like painless deaths.

  “You sick bastard,” she said.

  “Yes, I guess you could call me that. But I’m getting tired and I think we better start.” Terry opened a drawer and took out a some kind of a large sponge with a rubber band around it. He fastened it around Sheila’s head and pushed her mouth open and squeezed in the spongelike thing so that her teeth wouldn’t bite down or get injured through the pain.

  The pain that was about to come.

  Meanwhile, James threw the brick through the window and it crashed inside the living room. He climbed inside carefully, avoiding the remains of the glass and within seconds he was back inside Terry’s house. But he couldn’t hear anything. There was nobody home and soon the neighbors would call the police and he would be arrested. But no time for that, because where in the world was his sister?

  He ran upstairs and checked the two bedrooms, which were both very tidy and untouched. He entered the third one and twisted the knob. It was locked. Who locked their bedrooms? Only men with secrets right? He took two steps back and threw himself at the door which opened with a slam. The bedroom was as tidy as the others. It looked like the maid had just been in it.

  What the fuck? James thought to himself. He was now sweating profusely. There was a big mahogany chest of drawers against the wall and he started rummaging through it. He didn’t know why, he just went through all the drawers looking for something. Something.

  But he didn’t find anything but underwear, socks, some business papers and a bunch of old photos. Just before he was about to close the remaining drawer he saw a small brown envelope. He decided to open it and found to his amazement cropped-up pictures of shoulders, necks, legs, breasts, chins, fingers. He scratched his head and thought, now what the hell is this? Why would a management consultant carry pictures of body parts in his bedroom? It didn’t strike him as particularly normal.

  He put the pictures back, closed the drawer and picked up his phone. He knew Sheila wouldn’t reply, he just wanted to make sure. He headed downstairs and on the way down he heard a distant wailing sound. Police sirens. Of course, someone had called the cops and now he was in deep shit. Story of his life.

  He looked at the door which he presumed led to the basement. Should he make a run for it or conduct a final check there? He would lose time, which meant risking getting caught. Fuck it, he said to himself and walked over to the door.

  Luckily, the door wasn’t locked and the staircase bathed in light.

  When he reached the end of the stairs there was a small room with a cement floor and two doors. One of them looked thicker and heavier, so he opened it.

  His eyes met Terry’s and then he saw his sister, hanging in some kind of harness with blood running down her arms and legs. She was probably already dead.

  Terry’s heart stopped for a moment. How the hell did that idiot get here? Well, he was going to die too. He lunged himself towards James with his big knife, but James was fast and kicked him in the chest. James then kicked the knife out of Terry’s hand and threw himself down at him, but Terry pushed him away and James fell to the floor. He felt an intense pain in his back, but he couldn’t let Terry reach for the knife, then he would be dead too.

  James suddenly got a fist to his face. A sharp pain exploded in his nose and he felt warm liquid dripping from it.

  He wasn’t seeing anymore, he was feeling. He and Terry were two alligators rumbling around in a swamp. He tugged Terry’s hair and hit him in the ribs. Terry made a wheezi
ng sound.

  James didn’t have the raw build of his opponent, but he had gotten through a fair share of rough fights in his life. In school, in pubs. He had what most people lacked, tenacity and very little sensitivity to pain. And although he felt blood pouring from his nose, he managed to get another solid punch in, this time to Terry’s gut, immobilizing him.

  James rose to the floor and ran over to his sister while Terry squirmed on the floor like a worm. She had dozed off among all the blood, but James saw a flicker in her eyes as he untied her. He was shaking, trying to get her to come alive, “Come on, Sheila! Come on! Don’t you nod off now, we’re going home and everything’s going to be fine.” He was shouting in panic, praying to God his sister would live.

  She came down from the harness unconscious and he used all his power to lift her up over his right shoulder. He heard her mumble something. She’s still alive, he thought.

  “You fucking punk, I’m going to...” The re-energized Terry launched forwards with his knife and stabbed James in the side. James fell over and Sheila tumbled to the floor. I have them now, thought Terry and was just about to throw himself over James when he felt his hand disintegrate. He dropped the knife and saw blood gushing from his hand. Sheila had bit him with her perfect teeth. Teeth so sharp she had almost torn a hole in the hand. Terry wore a shocked look on his face when he realized what had just happened. And to make matters worse, James had managed to stand up and proceeded to whack him with one of his metal tools so hard in the head that he passed out.

  “Anybody here?” came a shout from the top floor.

  James threw a tired glance over at Sheila. She was bleeding, but still alive. “Help!” They both shouted. In came two policemen and the look on their faces told them they hadn’t expected a bloodbath with three badly injured and bleeding people, one of them a world-famous serial killer, of whose identity and fame they would find out about later.

  When James and Sheila had been taken to the hospital, their damage been surveyed and their wounds attended to, Sheila said to her brother: “You know, if it wasn’t for you, I would have been dead. You’re my hero, James. A true hero.”

  James flashed a tired smile at his sister, “I’m happy I can be good for something.”

  “You’re better than you think, you always were. And this time you really proved it.”

  James chuckled and said, “I would hug you if I could, sis, but I’m hurting too much.” They both laughed at this.

  “And Sheila?” James gave her a mysterious look.

  “Yes?”

  “I never told you this, but you have really nice teeth.”

  THE END.

  ***

  THE DEVELOPMENT TALK