Snatched Read online

  I waited for Bennie to leave the common room before joining Bethany in a joint sigh. It was almost time to leave and as the nominated key holder this week, it was Bennie's responsibility to ensure the building was empty before we left and set the alarm.

  “I'm sure you mentioned the idea about the houses ages ago.”

  I nodded and shrugged. “Yeah well, he seemed so enthusiastic about the notion, it seemed impolite to interrupt him.”

  She giggled. “What are you like? Look, er do you fancy a quick coffee before he comes back?”

  Her hand strayed towards Bennie's sacred jar of slow roast Nicaraguan coffee. The one that only he was allowed to use.

  “Go on then,” I replied. It was our guilty little secret. Poor Bennie would probably have heart failure if he knew the real reason for his disappearing coffee. Both Bethany and I told him that it was probably evaporating.

  At thirty-two years old, the woman was reaching the age where people were noticing that she wasn't married or had kids. Considering what I knew about children, I was quietly proud of her decision to wait, although, I did wonder myself why this was the case. I had looked into her background, checked up on her family history and found nothing to suggest a past trauma, like an abusive father or perhaps a sex crime visited upon her body.

  It might be just something as simple as wanting to ensure her career was established before committing herself to marriage and raising a family. This did seem to be becoming the norm for work orientated girls like Bethany. Still, this didn't explain the lack of a boyfriend. I've known her for almost three years now and in that time, she's not had a single lover, male or female.

  Bethany is a beautiful creature. From the recordings I made of her in her bedroom and bathroom, I can confirm that her body is firm and shapely. She would be a worthy prize.

  It isn't just that creep, Bennie who lusts after her. Many of the homeless men, the ones who are coherent, have shown interest. I'll admit that it is rather disgusting to watch their thick saliva dribble down their unshaven chins whilst gawking at Bethany's chest. I know that it drives Bennie insane with rage. He's transformed himself into the over-protective grandmother on many occasions when their lewd comments became a little close to the bone. I myself have no real issue over their attitude towards the woman. They really are no better than animals, who don't know any better.

  “A penny for your thoughts?”

  I look up to find her holding out a cup. “Sorry,” I said, taking the coffee from her. “I was miles away again.”

  Bethany sat next to me. The delicate scent of spiced apple body scrub fills my nose. It's been three weeks since she changed from frosted berries. I preferred that one. Her hand rested on my thigh. I hid my smile. Bennie would have cum in his pants at about this time.

  “Come on, James. What's on your mind, perhaps I can help?”

  My mother would have hated Bethany. She proves that her third law is inconsistent. This is one of the reasons why I've spent so much time in researching her history. It doesn't take a genius to see that Bennie and Bethany are poles apart. Whereas Bennie is a simple creature, not that far removed from the homeless we look after, this beautiful creature has so many hidden depths, perhaps as many as I have?

  “It's nothing, Beth,” I answered. “I'm just a little concerned over next Monday.”

  “Oh yeah, I'd forgotten about that.”

  Every Sunday, we receive a bumper shipment of leftover food from three of the large supermarkets in the area. This means that when we open our doors Monday night, once our volunteer cooks have prepared the food, there's usually a rush for the next few hours. There are times when some of the more excitable of guests can become a little rowdy. I'm usually here to ensure that trouble is dealt with quickly and without fuss. Unfortunately, due to exam workload, I won't be able to get here until late. I can't rely on Bennie to handle them. He couldn't scare the skin off a rice pudding.

  “I haven't and I'm not too sure how we're going to find cover for me. I can't leave the running of the place in Bennie's charge.” I sighed. “I don't mean to sound harsh but he's not exactly a person who excels at confrontation.”

  “You mean he's a big, soft idiot?”

  I tried not to choke on my coffee.

  “Sorry,” she said, laughing.

  I drained the remaining coffee to avoid a repeat. “No harm done. Bethany, I'll ask a couple of the cooks to stay back, even if it's only for one hour.”

  “Thank you.” She jerked her head towards the closed door. “Mr Universe returns.”

  If it wasn't for my determination to disprove my mother's first rule, I might have considered taking this woman as a partner. It would be an exciting moment for Bethany as I'm sure that she thinks that I'm her perfect opposite. Sadly, her dream of sharing my life is incompatible with my work.

  Nobody can be allowed to know about my work. That stays secret until I finally succeed. As a teacher of history, I know full well that great men in times past have fallen due to lesser men stealing their ideas and claiming them as their own.

  As I wash out our cups I cringe at Bennie's attempts to initiate yet another pathetic vocal seduction. I had to admire his persistence. The man just doesn't know when to give up. I ask myself if Bethany hasn't cast aside her dreams of a family for her career. Perhaps she was simply waiting for the right man. If that was indeed the case, then no wonder she was still single if she hung around with the likes of the homeless and people like Bennie.

  “Okay doke, the building is all squeaky clean and ready to go to sleep,” said Bennie. “Are you guys ready to leave?”

  I left our two cups on the drainer, beside the sink and followed the other two out into the main room. While watching Bethany walk over to her car, I attempted to calculate the odds of completing my mission before another man swept her off her feet. I paused. Perhaps the variables in that equation were a little one sided considering that after thirty-two years of existence, she was still unattached. It certainly wasn't going to take me that amount of time.

  I listened to Bennie lock the door while watching the woman's light-green hatchback pull out into the busy road. I could set myself a target of one year. I am practical as well as optimistic so that did sound achievable.

  It took me five months to locate the last Franco, two months to dispose of his family and a further eight months to reach the point where he was almost cleansed of his evil spirit. I have doubts that Bethany will find someone within that time.

  If that did happen, the man would simply become more fertilizer. It could create a degree of uneasiness within our relationship, as I'm not sure that Bethany would be too happy about me murdering one of her ex-boyfriends, no matter how many hugs I gave her. Of course, in time, the woman would realise the error of her ways and come around to my point of view but that could take weeks, even months. Let's just hope that it didn't come to that.

  “James. Do you have a moment?”

  “Sure, buddy. What's up?”

  He looked at me, the harsh white street-light above his head picking out the flakes of dandruff clinging to his shock of unruly black curly hair. Judging from the timorous expression, I suspected that Bennie was about to ask me for some kind of personal favour. If it had anything to do with tips on getting closer to Bethany, I might have to hurt him.

  “It's about our Janet's boy, James.

  “That's your sister?”

  He nodded. Strange. I knew he had two older sisters, Janet and Jane, but I had no idea that Janet had any kids. I wonder how I missed that?

  “Yeah, well. A couple of older boys are giving him a bit of a hard time and...” He coughed. “Sorry, he's called Donnie. Donnie Appleby. Well, I'm kinda wondering if you might be able to look into it?”

  Was this a sign? I have had the fortune of experiencing divine predestination before but never so obvious. Could it be that my next Franco has just been delivered into my hands? This was so exciting. “How old is your nephew?” My mouth had dried up, and I think I
detected a tremor in my voice. It's unlikely that Bennie would have noticed that.

  “He's just turned twelve. Donnie is a good kid, his grades are excellent, and he's very well behaved. Granted, he's not got too many friends and he generally keeps to himself but that's only natural, I was just like that. Well...”

  “Hmm, He must be one of the new boys in year three. That will be why the name isn't familiar. Do you know the names of the older boys who are bullying him?”

  He shook his head. “I think Donnie knows but he won't tell on them.” he shrugged. “You know what kids are like.”

  “Well, I'm sure I can found out. Tell your sister not to worry about it. I'll try to get to the bottom of this. Don't you worry.”

  He was the right age too. This surely was synchronicity. The only downside that I could see was my connection to Bennie. Still, I know I could find a workaround. I have a high intelligence quota and I excel at thinking on my feet.

  It's one of my hidden talents.

  CHAPTER THREE

  How could I have possibly made such a monumental error? These emotions rushing through my wet body felt so alien. I am shivering, and it isn't due to the torrential rain. I wipe the water from my face and gaze into the night sky. The light from the full moon illuminates the edges of the branches. I know that if I take two steps back, I'll see the globe in all its glory. I dare not for fear that I'll see it laughing, finding joy at my expense.

  Making me question my convictions.

  I turn around, press my back against the rough bark and force in a couple of lungfuls of the cold air. “I've been drugged, it's the only explanation.” As soon as those soft words fall from my lips I know that it is the only thing that makes sense. Something that I've eaten perhaps, or a gas that I've inadvertently breathed in.

  If that was indeed the case, it still doesn't explain why I didn't thoroughly check the house before I got to work. I force my body away from the large tree and gaze up at the moon, daring it to laugh at me. If there were drugs still in my body, their malevolent efforts were obviously wearing off. Unlike a few moments ago, I felt the moon's light bathe my body, invigorating me. This new surge of energy pushed away the self-doubt and replaced my inner anguish with a new sense of purpose as well as renewing my determination to seek out the young boy who rudely disturbed me while I was halfway through my work and to end the bitch.

  It had been over a week since Bennie had inadvertently dropped my next Franco into my lap. School work and clearing away all trace of the failed Franco had eaten away most of my time. I hadn't been idle in researching for the next project.

  I caught sight of Donnie the next morning and as soon as our eyes met, I felt an immediate connection. It honestly felt as though a surge of electricity shot down my spine. I stood in the middle of the crowded corridor, fixed to the spot, oblivious to the ocean of kids streaming past me. It seemed like I hadn't moved for hours when in fact only a couple of seconds had gone by.

  I quickly regained my composure and offered the boy a slight smile which he responded by turning bright red before fixing his eyes to the polished floor and rushing past me. Had I indeed found the one?

  Donnie was a small boy. He moved like a neglected mongrel dog, flinching whenever someone passed close by. With his shoulder length blonde hair, bright blue eyes and slender frame, it was clear that, in a few years time, once the hormones kicked in, every girl within a few mile radius would be after a piece of the boy. Right now though, Donnie was prime bullying material. The poor bastard would attract them like iron filings to a magnet.

  It took exactly one hour to discover the names of the boys who were tormenting Donnie. Of course, I didn't intervene. Compared to the cyclone which was about to take apart his little world, a couple of slap from a couple of boys older than him would feel like paradise to Donnie.

  On a more serious point, I had no wish to create any obvious links between me and the boy. As far as I was aware, only Bennie and perhaps Donnie 's mother could link me to the boy. They did not matter, for soon their tiny wet pieces would be feeding my award-winning vegetables.

  The process of selecting the ones closest to Donnie wasn't exactly difficult. Bennie had been on the ball regarding the boy's social standing, meaning I just had to target his immediate family. His mother, father, and of course Bennie.

  I would be saving him for last.

  Donnie's parents lived apart. The boy had elected to stay with his mother. When I first heard this, it did cast doubt upon his suitability. I had no wish to attempt to break another boy with mummy issues. In retrospect, I think the choice was simply due to his age plus his father worked away a lot.

  Leaving a young child alone in the house was irresponsible.

  It made sense to kill the man first. It was an easy job. One which carried little risk. He lived in a secluded cottage, and hadn't bothered installing a security system. Despite this, I knew that Donnie's mother would be the first one to taste my knife collection.

  Donnie and his mother lived about four miles from me, in one of the more desirable areas of the city. A suburb which, unlike Donnie's daddy, wasn't prone to visits from the undesirable elements living closer to the centre. House alarms came as standard and so did the sometimes unwelcome presence of the neighbourhood watch. In circumstances similar to these in the past, I have been cautious to the point of paranoia. Unlike street cameras, the habits of middle-aged women staring through their net curtains were harder to predict.

  In this instance, I chose to ignore my usual cautious approach and head straight for the front door, confident that after practically handing me the perfect subject, providence would not suddenly kick me in the face, in the shape of some nosy old bitch who had way too much time on her hands.

  Today was Thursday. At exactly twelve minutes past eight, I pushed open the family's front gate and calmly walked up the path. I even considered humming some banal tune before I let myself into the house.

  I was that confident.

  Donnie wouldn't be home. On a Thursday, his mother drove the boy to the Westside community centre, a couple of miles away in order to partake in his hobby of wargaming. Donnie had not followed the trend of vegetating in front of a computer monitor or computer screen for hours. I found this to be most refreshing, and, I don't mind saying, a little exciting.

  Due to the advancement of technology, coupled with the steady disintegration of our western moral standards, the modern child has access to a level of violence which could quite possibly unhinged the minds of children of earlier generations.

  To admit to myself that perhaps, forcing the Francos to confront their murdered friends and family by using pictures may have been wrong is a difficult pill to swallow. Oh, the concept of using them to help sever the emotional bond was spot on, I now believe that I didn't go far enough.

  The hedonistic attitude which infects our society had rendered my initial technique ineffective. Of course, my short-sighted approach has disappointed me but there's nothing I can do about this. I look to the future not dwell on the past. My only concern is that if Bennie hadn't opened his mouth when he did, there would have been a good chance that my next Franco would have failed simply because of this reason.

  It's obvious that Donnie is a delicate flower, obviously not a member of the pack. Not a boy who views violence with the same casual manner as the other boys in school

  I grin to myself, trying not to shiver in delightful expectation of traumatising little Donnie.

  They lived in a typical three-bedroomed semi-detached house with a large back garden and a medium sized front garden. Donnie's mother was a talented gardener. I admired her African Violets and Azaleas while I walked up to the front door.

  It's good to see she enjoyed spending time in the garden. So many people nowadays don't bother trying to grow anything, preferring to pave or tarmac the area. It's such a waste.

  With help from a couple of online estate agents, I already knew the interior layout. The window to the left showed a dark
ened kitchen while the large bay window looked into the living room. I smiled to myself. Even from this angle, I could see that the woman was chilling out in front of the television. She sure did enjoy her soaps. She posted on her social media page that she was looking forward to wine and Eastenders tonight. Donnie's father was picking him up, later on, to stay at his place over the weekend. She was going shopping in the morning. There was a fantastic pair of red heels that caught her eye earlier today.

  I can't understand why some people feel the need to share their private lives with complete strangers. They only participate in this bizarre action behind the illusionary safety of a keyboard, solid or virtual.

  As I suspected, she hadn't locked the front door so I silently let myself in. I creep into the kitchen and silently place my leather satchel on the leather chair. I listened to the woman pour herself a glass of wine while I busied myself setting up my equipment.

  It didn't take too long to prepare everything. For the first time since embarking on my quest, I didn't bring the animal tranquillizer. There would be no quick kill followed by a single pose for Donnie's mother. I also upgraded the hardware so I could film the event. As I mentioned earlier, there is no point in dwelling on the past.

  Once I was satisfied that everything was just right, I spun the dial on her microwave, set it for exactly one minute before pushing the power button. While the glass turntable was rotating, I took up position behind the door. In the seconds remaining, I took stock of exactly how privileged this woman should feel in playing her part in helping me cure her boy of the evil which infected every cell in his body.

  The microwave pinged and a moment later, I heard her low the TV volume. A soft creaking informed me that she had just stood up. I had to congratulate myself on my clever ruse as she padded into the kitchen. She had absolutely no idea that somebody had violated her safe space. Even as the woman walked past my form, hidden in the shadows, the woman still believed she was alone in the house.