Forgive Me, Alex (17 page)

I couldn't believe my boldness, this decisiveness. The rush of power fired every nerve in my body.

I'd figured out which room was Diana's by the light while I was outside. They made it nice and easy by leaving the front door unlocked.

Thanks, Tony, you're a real pal.

Diana slept quietly, and adrenaline buzzed through my body. Shit, I sported a hard-on to make a porn star gasp.

I crept to the edge of her bed and gently clasped my right hand over her mouth. She responded with a smile and pleasant groan at first—must have thought it was her precious boyfriend. Her eyes drifted open and it took her a second to focus on me.

Her body shot rigid, her eyes wide. She tried to jump and yell but I forced her back down. With my left hand, I held the knife up where she could see it.

I placed it at her neck and whispered, "I don't want to cut your throat, but I sure-as-hell will if I have to. Don't make me do it.
Capiche
?"

No response, except to ease her grip and remove her nails from the back of my hand. She'd scratched the hell out me. No biggie.

"I don't want to kill you, but I'll do it if you scream. Got it?"

She nodded.

"You can't get away from me. I'm too quick and too strong, so don't even think about running. And keep your fucking mouth shut or you're dead."

I pulled the covers back and....
Holy Curly, Moe and Joe!
I wiggled the knife over her and pressed the flat edge to her left tit, the blade close to her nipple. She stopped breathing for a moment.

"Get up and get dressed. Be quick about it, and quiet. If you try anything, it will take me about two seconds to stick you. Move!"

A strange smell made me anxious as she rose naked from bed. I stayed close to keep her from trying anything stupid. She put on panties, jeans, a tee shirt and sneakers.

Damn, sex with her would have been amazing. No time now, but maybe we'd have some fun later.

I closed her bedroom door behind us, held to the back of her jeans, and pressed the knife into her back as we walked outside—to reiterate my threat.

Once she hopped into the back of my van, I tied her hands to a rope loop welded into the wall. Easy. Nobody cruised the street at this late hour, and still no sign of her parents.

***

The clock in my workshop ticked past one o'clock. It hadn't occurred to me to put a little bed in here, a simple mattress in case I had to spend the night. Should I have left Diana here alone? Not yet. Too risky. I didn't want to hurt her, but she didn't know that. Best keep it that way for now—gave me all the power, and kept her under control.

She sat on a blanket in the corner, with hands tied behind her back and ankles tied together.

I needed another blanket to use as a bedroll.

"I have to go out to the van for a minute, but the same rules apply. You should know the nearest house is quite a ways off. I doubt they could hear you scream, so I won't bother gagging you, but if you try it, I'll cut you."

Terror filled her eyes, but also a hint of doubt, maybe anger.

"You see all these tools hanging around? I use them to do my work. It's the Reaper's work, but you might say I'm his apprentice. You can inflict amazing damage to a human body without killing the person. Eventually, the pain becomes too severe to tolerate. Then it's lights out, dirt-nap city. That can take a long time though, and you can inflict
a shitload
of pain before death. I happen to be a master."

Why tell her the truth? I'd develop my skill soon enough.

Her eyes widened as she gazed at the various implements of destruction. She looked convinced, but one more bit of information should cement the deal.

"I didn't quite get it right with Alex Hooper, but I've learned a lot since then."

Her eyes bulged—damn near popped right out of her head. Kinda funny.

"If you're a good girl, we can dispense with that stuff. Obey my orders, and you won't have to experience those awful things—pain like you can't imagine. Understand?"

She closed her eyes and dropped her head.

"I said do you understand?"

She nodded.

"I'll be back in about ten minutes. Gotta work on the van, but I'll be right outside."

She weren't goin' nowhere. Hell, she was scared to death.

I grabbed the bucket and walked down to the lake to get some water for cleaning up. I took a leak in some bushes along the way, and it occurred to me that I didn't have no toilet paper in the shop.

Shit!

I hadn't considered how Diana would go to the bathroom, or how I would take a dump. The old me still popped up every once in awhile, complete with shit for brains. It frustrated me more than ever, now that I was different. Now that I was smarter.

The three-quarter moon provided enough light for the grueling walk back to the shop. The fuckin' bucket of water weighed about a million pounds! Crickets chirped, lightning bugs flashed everywhere, and something huge buzzed by my head. Fuckin' bugs!

I snatched the blanket from the back of my van before entering the shop. Diana huddled in the corner with her head down on her knees, crying.

A bolt of energy shot through me at first—thought I might pop another woody—but then my stomach churned a bit. I chewed on a fingernail for a few seconds; didn't think the Reaper would like it if I felt sorry for her.

I glanced around the shop—weren't no way she'd be able to go to the bathroom in here. I'd brought a few rags in with my supplies, one of which I'd need to gag her.

"Do you need to go to the bathroom?"

She raised her head, and blinked several times before looking around the shop, then dropped into her slouch again without responding.

"You'll have to do it outside. There's a good spot nearby. You can use these rags—they're clean—since there ain't no toilet paper. I'll pick up some TP tomorrow."

A couple tears fell, and she shrugged at her bound hands.

"I'll untie you so you can go, but I gotta go out with you to make sure you don't try to run off. I'll stay a few feet away to give you a little privacy. Don't try nothin' stupid, and we'll get along fine."

Again, she didn't respond. Bitch was starting to piss me off.

"So, do you want to go, or do you want to sit there in your own stinkin' mess? Answer me!"

She cringed. "I want to go."

"All right, I have four rags. They gotta last you 'til tomorrow, so use 'em accordingly. I'll untie you, but be damn careful. Don't think for a second you can outrun me. Don't make me hurt you. Understand?"

No response, but she shook like a streaker on a winter day.

She pissed behind a tree where she had a little privacy, but where I could see if she made a run for it. I was tempted to watch. Why shouldn't I? Would that have been wrong? Fuck it! Besides, too dark to see anything.

I stayed close behind as she stumbled back to the shop, and put my hand on her shoulder when we entered; didn't want her grabbing one of my tools and attacking me.

She washed herself from the bucket—just a little, without removing any clothes. I tied her up again, with her hands in front this time, and she lay down and wrapped herself in the blanket. She turned and faced the wall. I understood. She was nervous and frightened, trying to avoid me.

No worries. She'd pay attention to me soon enough.

"Man is not the creature of circumstances; circumstances are the creature of man." – Benjamin Disraeli

~~~~~

Diana had finally slept last night, at least a little, curled up in her blanket in the corner. She cried a few times.

I'd been too nervous to sleep much, and had plans to consider and supplies to pick up, like toilet paper and toothpaste and deodorant... and clothes.

I'd prodded Diana's sizes out of her before leaving the shop, then gagged her and tied her to the shed. The tight bindings had probably hurt her, but.... Whatever.

I didn't plan to be gone long—still too nervous about leaving her alone.

Mom, Dad and Tommy were out at church when I stopped at home. I took a fast shower, changed clothes, and grabbed some money from my secret stash. I left a note to keep my parents from prying.

~~~

Mom and Dad,

I'm spending a couple days with a friend, so don't worry. I'll see you soon.

Be good, Tommy-boy.

Mitchell

~~~

I'd done it before, whenever I hung with Frankie Walters for a weekend to drink, smoke dope, and listen to music or his comedy albums: Bill Cosby, George Carlin and Cheech & Chong—some funny shit!

The folks would be okay for a day or two, and I'd figure things out from there.

I packed a bag with enough stuff to last me two or three days, loaded it and an empty ice chest into the van, and zipped out the driveway before the folks got home and started asking questions. They'd have to arrange for somebody else to watch Tommy.

Whatever. I couldn't be there for him
all
the time.

I stopped at Sears in Crystal Lake to buy a couple more tools and clothes for Diana. I picked up two sets of everything for her: jeans, tee shirts, panties, socks... but no bras. I liked her better without one.

I popped into Dominick's down the street to load-up on sandwich stuff, chips and pickles, some pop, two five-gallon bottles of water, the bathroom stuff we needed, a bag of plastic forks and spoons and knives, a bag of ice to put in the cooler.... We wouldn't exactly be dining at the Ritz, as my dad liked to say, but we'd get by.

I returned to the shop feeling much better about things, anxious to see my angel.

I untied Diana and let her clean up a little before we sat down to eat. I tried to start a conversation, but she weren't responding, weren't having a good time yet.

She would. Soon.

***

I loved nighttime—the darkness, the ability to hide in plain sight, the perfect opportunity to move forward with the next part of my plan. This was my second chance; couldn't screw this up or I'd be in deep shit with the Reaper.

Once again, I'd left Diana tied-up and gagged back at the shop. She was kind of a pain in the ass, but she was also gonna be sweet. Sweet and tasty.

Shit! Can't think about that now.

This grocery store in Crystal Lake weren't the one I usually shopped; didn't want to run into anyone who might recognize me. It was almost closing time, so I'd try for one of the employees. I didn't give a hot shit if it was a woman or man, though a woman would have been easier to handle.

I parked next to a group of cars on the edge of the lot furthest from the doors, presumably where employees park, to give me plenty of opportunities.

Seated in the van, with my lawn chair pulled close to the rear doors, I enjoyed a wide view through the rear windows. With one of the doors open, but pulled to, I could jump out in a snap, and without a sound. I removed the bulb from the overhead interior light, and fingered the hilt of the hunting knife sheathed on my belt, and the hammer wedged under the belt. I clenched a baseball bat in my right hand too—plenty of weapons. A gun would have been good, but where would I have gotten one without raising suspicions or leaving a trail?

A woman walked from the store without bags and headed this way, probably an employee. My right foot bounced, my teeth grinded, and my grip tightened on the baseball bat. Sweat beaded above my eyebrows and on the back of my neck.

Get ready, Mitchell. Holy shit! This could be.... Fuck! I need to take a leak.

She stopped and looked back when a boy jogged toward her, undoubtedly another employee, and they walked together to their cars, parked side-by-side fifteen feet away from where I sat. They said goodnight before driving off.

The missed opportunity had me amped-up, but I gradually stopped twitching.

Patience
, the voice in my head said.

Two more people left the store, a young man pushing a loaded grocery cart and an old woman right behind him. They approached a car parked near the entrance, he helped her load the groceries, and she drove off as he jogged back inside the store.

Three minutes later, a figure emerged from the store, the same kid who'd helped the old woman. He looked to be seventeen or eighteen, with long blond hair and a bounce in his step, and he whistled a tune. As he came closer, he stopped whistling and started singing
Back in the Saddle
by Aerosmith.

He walked toward one of the nearby cars, directly across from me and less than ten feet away.

I glanced back at the store. Nobody else coming. I gripped the bat and stepped out of the van, and he launched into the chorus line from the song, blaring it out for the whole world to hear.

We'll see who's back in the saddle again, dumbass!

I rushed right up behind him and swung the bat, catching him at the base of his head and across his shoulders. I wanted to knock him out, not kill him.

He grunted, dropped his keys and hit the pavement hard. He squirmed, barely conscious, so I gave him one more light swing of the bat. The poor schmuck would have
two
nasty lumps.

Tough shit!

In a little while, that would be the least of his fuckin' worries, assuming I hadn't killed him. I felt the pulse on the side of his neck. Still breathing.

Still nobody came from the store. I leaned the bat against the car, raised him up and threw him over my right shoulder.

"You're damn heavy for a skinny shit."

I grabbed the bat with my left hand and walked toward my van. Halfway there, I almost lost him, and strained my back while trying to hang on.

"That hurts, you lousy fucker!"

I dumped him in the van like a sack of useless shit. Okay, so he wasn't useless—we'd have some real fun later. Back inside the van, I breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed my handcuffs, a little something from an adult-only store off I-94 up in Wisconsin.

I'd expected to use them for other purposes, something a prostitute taught me once. That hadn't happened, but they sure came in handy now.

I covered the kid's mouth with duct tape and ran a rope through the handcuffs, and tied them up through the loop on the upper wall. I then dragged the unconscious blob of shit into a sitting position.

He couldn't go anywhere or make any loud noises. Perfect!

I froze. Laughter echoed across the parking lot. Careful to keep the van still, I crawled to the window. Three boys laughed it up as they approached the nearby cars.

"Hey," one of them said, "I thought Dan already left."

"He did," said another.

"Then why is his car still here?"

"Who gives a shit? He probably went back inside. Let's get out of here."

One by one, they drove off.

If one of them had walked over to—Dan, was it?—his car, they might'a found his keys. That would'a been trouble. I should have picked them up earlier, but now that it was clear, I darted over and scooped them up.

I jumped into the driver's seat and took one last look around the parking lot.

"All right, Danny-boy, we're ready to go."

No response. Still unconscious.

"What's the matter, don't feel like talking?"

I laughed, unable to keep my legs still as the excitement builds. Time for a good song.

"I'M BAAAACK!"

***

The kid remained unconscious, tied to the workbench.

I allowed Diana go to the bathroom and wash up, and then we munched some sandwiches—a little PB&J to keep our energy up.

My
energy was definitely up!

She now sat in a chair alongside the workbench, her hands tied behind her and her feet taped to the chair. Whatever. At least she could appreciate a ringside seat.

Time to wake up Danny-boy.

I had a knife in one hand and needle-nosed pliers in the other, and I danced around like a fool. I couldn't help it—barely able to contain myself. I had a hard-on that would shock that
Deep Throat
chick. I couldn't stop staring at Diana's magnificent tits, at her rock-hard nipples.

She's excited too! Man, I want to get all over that! Maybe I should let Danny-Boy wait and—

He groaned and flipped his head from side to side.

I walked to the bench and leaned down, my face a few inches away as his eyes struggled open. He tried to speak before realizing I had his mouth taped. He raised his head and looked down the table at the rest of himself, all tied and taped and... naked.

His eyes pled with me.

I held up my hands to display the knife and the pliers, and offered my biggest smile and a hearty laugh. "Hey, Danny-boy, we're gonna have some serious fun tonight. I have plenty of other cool tools too. Wanna see 'em?"

I reached behind me and rotated through the selections: hammer, saw, ice pick, hand-drill, before returning to the knife and pliers. "Let's start with these. Don't worry, we'll enjoy every one of them. Gotta be patient."

He screamed behind his tape, then his head rolled over and he saw Diana.

She'd already started crying, and made eye contact for only a second before dropping her head.

"No you don't, Diana. You gotta watch every single bit of this, you hear me? If you don't, I'll put
you
on the table next. Got it?"

Tears streamed down her face, but she nodded.

Why in hell is she crying like a baby?

"One more thing: if you scream, I'll cut something off." I reached over and squeezed her right tit, and pinched her nipple. "Maybe I'll start with this one."

That got her attention.

Holy shit, did that feel good or what!

"Okay then, shall we get started?"

Danny-boy tried screaming again behind the tape. What a stupid fucker.

***

Wow! I'd gotten it right this time. Danny-boy had spewed twice during the fun. I hadn't expected that. It was like he'd enjoyed it while I sliced, ripped, sawed, drilled and stabbed. He'd lasted twenty minutes, screaming behind the tape the whole time.

Problem was we had a stinking, fucking mess, with piss and shit and blood everywhere, including all over me. Wow!

I stepped in front of Diana, nice and close. I couldn't stand it anymore—needed a release—but she was tied-up. I'd just have to do it myself. Whatever.

"Okay, Diana, I have one more thing for you to watch tonight."