Sangre De Toro (Old Draft...

Da hrb264

15.9K 2.1K 24.7K

When Pepelito dramatically escapes certain death in a bullfight, he enrages some and delights others. Taken p... Altro

Disclaimer/Content warning
Glossary
Dedication
Aficion (poem)
Chapter 1 - Sangre de Toro
Chapter 2 - Refuge
Chapter 3 - Anniversary Dinner
Chapter 4 - Rita's Apartment
Chapter 5 - Rita
Chapter 6 - Sleepless
Chapter 7 - The Breakup
Chapter 8 - Trolls
Chapter 9 - 2,000,000 Euros
Chapter 10 - Baggage and Burritos
Chapter 11 - Raquel's Revelations
Chapter 13 - A New Arrival
Chapter 14 - Lost
Chapter 15 - Uncle Silvio
Chapter 16 - Blood Sports
Chapter 17 - Setting the Record Straight
Chapter 18 - Connections
Chapter 19 - High On His Own Supply
Chapter 20 - Party From Hell
Chapter 21 - Peckish
Chapter 22 - Sonia (part 1)
Chapter 22 - Sonia (part 2)
Chapter 23 - Hello Again
Chapter 24 - Heather
Chapter 25 - Scheming On It
Chapter 26 - Gotcha
Chapter 27 - Perfect Symmetry
Chapter 28 - Fiesta de Dementes
Chapter 29 - Moment of Truth
Chapter 30 - Found You
Chapter 31 - Caught
Chapter 32 - Hairless Mammals
Chapter 33 - Come Back Alive
Chapter 34 - Nightmares
Chapter 35 - Death in the Afternoon
Chapter 36 - Audacious Plans
Chapter 37 - Darkness Catches Up
Chapter 38 - Whatever Doesn't Kill You
Chapter 39 - What Friends are For
Chapter 40 - Leaving on a Jetplane
Chapter 41 - Disclosure
Chapter 42 - Descent into Hell
Chapter 43 - Done With All The Bullsh*t
Chapter 44 - Sand and Blood
Chapter 45 - Pack of Sickos
Chapter 46 - Lex Talionis
Chapter 47 - Too Much
Chapter 48 - The Nicest Treat of All
Author's note

Chapter 12 - Aidan

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Da hrb264

Aidan Donnelly was heading to the bus stop after finishing his shift. He was looking forward to doing a stream of the new edition of Assassin’s Creed with some mates later. Board and video games were his favourite thing to relax, so he felt lucky to have got the job in the shop, at least he was doing something vaguely bearable.

It got him out the house now he'd left college, since his dad died it had all got too grim with his mum quitting her job and going on the sick with depression. Being sat up in his room had done him no good at all. Besides it wasn't like much else was round here. All the good jobs were down south. He walked to the bus stop, the buses were shit out where he lived. He was gonna save for a car and had his license but couldn't afford it. He couldn't afford to move out of his mum's and he was paying for her too. Most of his salary went on helping his mum with rent and electricity bills. If anything was left over he liked to buy games with it or go for a drink now he was old enough, although his anxiety wouldn't always let him do that.

Once at the bus stop, he took out his phone to message his friends about the streaming session later. He also checked YouTube, he had a couple more subscribers and comments on his videos, plus someone had tipped him £20 which was nice. He'd made some comments about that MP or whatever he was, that Tory who'd been torturing animals on holiday. It got something mad like a thousand likes or something like that, it had proper triggered a few of them too. Too funny. He wasn't woke or anything but god the Tories are all pricks, he thought.

He stood at the bus stop. The bus was late as usual. Probably broken down somewhere. He couldn't wait to get his licence. There was nobody on the street apart from some drunk guy shouting. He sat down at the bus shelter and put his headphones in, texting his mum to say he was going to be late.

There was someone else coming towards him. From a distance he couldn't make out the face. He was wearing a suit and tie, he must be lost round here, Aidan thought. He put some music on and went back to his phone. Summer from work had messaged him.

'Hey Aidan, you working tomorrow?' He was surprised at her texting him. He fancied her and wanted to ask her out but he didn't have any money and his looks weren't up to much. He wasn't going to uni any time soon. No way she would go for a loser like him, he thought sadly. A couple of his subscribers were girls but barely anyone would look at him in real life.

'Yeah I will be,' he wrote, his heart pounding. 'You wanna grab something at lunch?'

'Sure :)'

'There you are, Aidan. You'll regret your threats,' said a posh voice. What threats? What? A hand gripped his shoulder. He turned around and saw the guy in the suit, now wearing a ski mask and surgical gloves like something out of a horror movie. Aidan gasped but his scream was stifled as the man pushed him against the bus shelter’s perspex wall. He tried to struggle and push him away but it was no use. The man punched him in the stomach so he couldn't breathe; he felt nauseous. He shoved a cloth under Aidan's nose. Dimly Aidan saw him reach into a leather bag he was carrying and pull out a roll of duct tape. He tried to cry out but within seconds he was unconscious.

****

Henry dragged Aidan's limp body a few metres to the expensive black car with fake plates and tinted windows he had hired for his visit to the Red Wall. It had almost been too easy. A less daring man than he might have hired someone else to do the deed, but the thrill of the hunt was half the joy of the thing, and there were few Henry trusted not to botch at least one of his instructions. One of these failures had almost been catastrophic.

As Aidan's feet hung out the door, Henry picked up a crowbar from the back seat, smashed the security camera on the wall by the bus shelter, and picked up the camera’s memory card and battery from the ground. He threw the battery in the drain with a pleasing splash. He couldn't risk being seen; this was slightly more damaging than the Civil Service fraud case Scotland Yard had turned up at his door about a few days ago. Naturally, Henry had been as helpful as he could; he was only a witness. His relationship with the law didn’t need unnecessary friction.

'Where to, Dixon?' said George who sat beside him in the drivers' seat as he cut the memory card up with a pair of scissors. He could be a pain in the backside but he could be relied on to be discreet in such matters.

'Be a sport and take us back down to Surrey.' It would be a while before Aidan woke up, Henry thought, looking at him lying across the back seat and taking off the ski mask now they were out of danger. Driving round this dodgy area incognito reminded him of nothing so much as his hunting trips to Africa in search of dangerous beasts. 

'Him as well?'

'Of course.' As someone else was driving, Henry poured himself a dram of 200 year old whisky as he sat on the soft leather seat, before rolling down the window and throwing the remains of the card outside. This particular bottle had been given to him by Lord Owenstoft, who owned the grouse moor he went shooting on regularly. After a refreshing day in the field, the two Taurine Club members regularly spent many hours discussing the intricacies of the matadors' techniques.

Yes, grouse shooting was another fine day out. There was something so satisfying about watching birds drop out of the sky. Just before his latest short visit to Spain, he had shot a few woodcocks and a wryneck - you didn’t see many of those these days! There was some hoo ha from the RSPB about wrynecks being endangered. It was in a freezer in his cellar - not his basement, an American neologism - while he decided what to do with it. If he had it stuffed, it'd be a collector's item.

Of course, the nasty little yob in the back wouldn’t appreciate any of this. He wouldn't be able to tell you what a grouse was if it shat on him.

He’d never again show Henry such insolence.

Just as well.

AN: Poor Aidan :(

Have a listen to the song on the side - sums up these vile activities quite well imo

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