Recap: "Ah, allow me to introduce you," he began. He stalked across the room and stood in front of the photos, "These are my girls."
What? What did he mean, "his girls"? It made no sense? Then I remembered that girl I'd seen in the paper; she'd been kidnapped. That was almost a year ago and still the police had no leads and a body had never been found. Had my captor killed her? Was he going to kill me too?
"What about the knives?" I asked, stuttering my words due to my intense fear.
"Oh, come on, Brooke, you're an intelligent girl. Work it out for yourself." he said, standing aside so I had full view of all the pictures and knives. I studied closer than I had before, scanning my eyes quickly across all of them to try and find any differences between them and the one I had picked up from the floor. At first glance they appeared to be identical. Biting back the urge to throw up again, I inched closer to them. On the knives on the wall, there were always a few reddy-brown specks whereas the unframed one looked clean and unused. Oh my God. The specks were blood. On every single knife there was blood. It all slotted into place in my mind: this psycho had kidnapped all these girls and taken their photo, before stabbing them to death and framing the picture and the knife.
"Y-you k-k-killed them.." I said, shaking with fear.
The evil glint in his eye gleamed brighter as he nodded his head slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on me all the time.
I felt sour acid creeping up my throat and threw up again on the floor in front of me. My captor jumped back, repulsed. He creeped around the puddle towards me and I instictively inched away from him, wanting to be as far away as possible from this evil, evil man. Tears threatened to well up but I refused to let them. That was the thing about me; I was stubborn, determined not to let him get to me. Or at least not to show him. I gulped and looked him directly in the eye. Taking a deep breath, I spoke.
"Are you going to kill me?"
His eyes gleamed again as they had before, as if he was getting a kick out of watching me shudder every time his stare went right through me like a dagger. He slowly brought a mobile phone out of his jeans pocket and held it up at arms length. A bright flash beamed out for a second, blinding me momentarily. He had taken a picture of me.
"Hmm," he began, studying the small screen of the black flip phone, "the light's not the best, but it'll do. After all, I'm the only one that's ever going to see it."
He laughed, at first quietly under his breath, but it grew into a shrieking guffaw, the sound reverberating around the room. He stopped after what seemed like minutes but was probably only a few seconds, tops. The echo bounced from wall to wall, lasting long after the laugh had stopped. He crept ever closer to me and I kept backing away.
He kept coming closer, like a jungle cat stalking its prey. I had never really believed in God, but then, I prayed in my head harder than I had ever prayed before.
"Please God," I begged silently, "If you're listening, just don't let me die."
I was walking away from him, right up to the far corner of the room when a sharp pain flared in my foot. I yelped and looked down at the floor. I had stood on the knife. Blood trickled out, forming a small puddle beneath me. That was it; the knife! In one fluid motion, I swooped down and grabbed it. Straightening up again, I thrust it out in front of me so it lay between me and my captor. Taken by surprise, he jumoed backwards and out of harm's way but he quickly got over the shock. He darted diagonally forwards and then behind me before I could react. He grabbed my arm from behind and twisted it up my back, making me writhe in pain.
"Drop the knife, Brooke, or I can make this a lot more painful." he warned with a sinister edge to his voice. I hesitated, and to demonstrate, he grabbed me by the hair and pulled my head back so I was looking directly up at the ceiling. He leaned over me and repeated the order.
"Drop it, now."
"Fine!" I shouted. I threw it to the floor and he cursed as it hit him directly in the foot. It drove through his shabby trainers made of thin material and pierced what I assumed was his toe.
"You little bitch!" he screamed, spitting in my face, "I'll bloody kill you!"
He picked up the knife from the floor with one hand and held on to me with the other. My arm was still twisted behind my back and causing me pain but I still wriggled against him, trying to break free. He swivelled me round to face him and waved the knife in front ofo my face. He dragged the flat side of it across my cheek, not cutting me, just making me jump at the touch of the cold metal.
He raised his arm above his head, the tip of the knife's blade poised to strike.
"Oh God!" I screamed, "Oh God no! Please! NO!"
My pride went out the window as I surrendered to the tears. They came thick and fast, trailing down my cheeks leaving silvery tracks behind them. I watched as he steadied his grip on the knife and spoke to me.
"You're a pretty girl Brooke. Such a shame that it's going to waste."
I braced myself for the knife to pierce my skin and waited for the fatal blow.
"Rest in pieces, Brooke." he growled menacingly. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath, wondering if it would be my last.
I felt a rush of air whip my hair over my shoulders as he swung his arm down in a menacing arc. I screamed in agony as I felt the blade penetrate my neck. He twisted it, widening the cut and making me scream louder before he jerked it out after a few seconds. The pain was like nothing I have ever experienced. It felt like a thousnad bullets rushing through my body all at once, or like my neck was being scalded over and over again with a white hot iron. Blood rushed out of the wound, seeping down my neck, over my chest and staining my clothes a deep, permanent scarlet. I heard him cackle as I raised my free hand, clutching at my neck, cupping my hand over the gash. I swore in that moment that I wouldn't let this monster kill anyone else. This would be the last time. I wrenched my eyes open to see him leave my side and walk to the wall with the knife still dripping blood in his hand.
The pain was now too much for me to bear. I collapsed to the floor, shuddering. I no longer had the energy to scream. A final breath of dusty air entered my lungs, the blinding white light became black and all was calm at last. I was away from him. I was free.
YOU ARE READING
A Touch From BeyondTeen Fiction
When Brooke Mulligan is kidnapped and brutally murdered, she decides to live out the rest of eternity as a spirit. Only once she has avenged her death will she go to her rest in peace. Her chance arises when her kidnapper and killer strikes again...