The Darkness Within (6 page)

Time passed fast enough and an hour and ten minutes later, Ferguson opened the door to a desperate drug dealer.

‘Come on in. I’ve set us up to talk business in my study.’

Allen followed behind him. ‘Nice place.’ He whistled as he took in the rich surroundings. ‘This is real money.’

Ferguson kept moving them ahead until they reached the study.

‘After you.’ Ferguson led him in. ‘Have a seat.’

Allen took a seat at the table while Ferguson got them some drinks. ‘A whisky good for you?’

‘Yes thank you.’

Allen didn’t realise that GHB had been added to the drink.

‘A whisky for you.’ He handed over the glass.

‘Thank you.’

‘To business.’ Ferguson raised his glass.

‘To business.’ Allen took the first gulp.

Ferguson took a drink too, but knew his wouldn’t be affecting his coordinating skills.

‘What the hell did you…’ Allen’s top half fell to the side and the drink crashed to the floor. Ferguson got to work.

It was an hour when Allen was finally coming to. At first he wasn’t sure where he was. When he tried to move his hands he found that they had been tied to the arms of the chair.

‘Welcome back Allen,’ said Ferguson with rope wrapped around his hands. He’d taken off his suit jacket and had rolled the sleeves to his shirt up. He sat on the side of the table and pulled Allen’s face up by his chin.

‘What have you done to me? What are you doing to me?’

‘What should’ve been done to you a long time ago.’

Allen looked up at the man who had captured him and tried to focus. He didn’t understand what was going on.

‘Why are you doing this to me?’

‘Because you hurt someone very dear to me.’

Allen squinted not understanding.

‘Freya.’

Recognition appeared on his face.

‘You gave her a bad batch of coke.’

‘I did no such thing.’

‘She almost died after snorting your poison!’

‘I didn’t know. Man that wasn’t my fault.’

‘It is your fault. You were supposed to make sure that the drugs you sell don’t kill your customers.’

‘I can’t promise that. It is a drug.’

‘Yes. If they overdose that’s on them, but a bad batch of powder is on you.’

‘I’ll do whatever you want.’ He panicked when he saw the way Ferguson wrapped the rope around his hands.

‘A bit too late for that.’ He stood up. ‘You will pay for your mistakes. You will pay for hurting someone dear to me.’

‘Please. I beg you.’

Ferguson stood up, Allen’s pleas fell on deaf ears. It was no use and Ferguson was hungry to put the rope around Allen’s neck, watch him struggle and take his last breath.

‘Please,’ he continued to beg.

Ferguson enjoyed the sound of begging. It only heightened his pleasure to kill the man begging for his life. He stood behind him and put the rope around Allen’s throat.

‘Please.’ He began to struggle as if that would help him get free.

‘You’re not going anywhere tonight. The world will be a better place without you in it.’

‘You won’t get away with it.’

‘I already have.’ He tightened the rope around Allen’s neck and felt him wriggle beneath him. It gave him pleasure to know that he was finally getting rid of the trash that had hurt Freya. Over and over the man squirmed, his breathing laboured as he tried to grasp the last breaths. Finally, his head fell to the side, but Ferguson didn’t stop pulling on the rope, applying more and more pressure until he heard the wonderful sound of a bone crack and crush under the pressure. Now it was done. He let go of the rope feeling satisfied. There was a rush of adrenaline through his body. He moved from the lifeless body and took a sip of the whisky. It tasted better than it had done a few minutes ago. With his body on alert, everything sounded, tasted and looked better. 

After the whisky had settled he made a call. Forty minutes after the call, the bell rang. He took his time to open the door.

‘Boss.’ Three men walked into the house.

‘The body is in the study. Make sure it never gets traced back to me.’

‘Of course boss. We always make sure that will never happen.’

He nodded and let them get on with what they did best. Dispose of bodies. Ferguson had found the three men when he’d first killed someone. It had been through a friend of a friend who understood his need to kill. Now he paid people to get rid of the bodies and any evidence in his home. Ferguson also lived away from prying neighbours which made it that much easier to get away with the things he did.

It took the three men an hour to do a thorough clean up.

‘All sorted boss,’ shouted one of them.

‘Great. Thanks.’ He followed them to the door as they wheeled the body out in suitcases. Once the door was shut, Ferguson was ready to have a great night’s sleep.

Chapter Five

‘Freya, you have a visitor,’ said the nurse.

She looked up from the television and wondered who wanted to see a mad woman like her so early in the day.

‘Who is it?’ she asked.

‘Why don’t you come and see. It will do you good,’ she smiled.

Freya abandoned the soap she was trying very hard to watch and headed for the visitor’s room. She was certain in a few day’s time, she’d be let go and get on with her life.

‘Tasmin! Wow…what are you doing here.’

Tasmin stood up and smiled. ‘Erm…your father told me what happened. I just wanted to see if you’re okay.’

‘It’s been a while.’ She took Tasmin into a hug.

‘Yes it has.’

‘I know it has been hard on you.’

‘You don’t have to explain anything to me. It’s fine. I just want to make sure you’re okay.’

‘I’m fine. Sit down.’

They both sat down.

‘How are you doing so far?’

‘I’m okay I guess. How are you?’

‘Good. I’m moving down to London to be with my fiancé. He got a job down South.  I wanted to tell you and not just disappear.’

‘Sounds nice. I’m happy for you.’ Freya couldn’t feel happiness even if she tried. She had no desire to care about the good things that seemed to be happening with Tasmin.

‘I’ve been reading your magazine. You’re doing well.’

‘Yes I am. Funnily.’ It often surprised her how she’d been able to keep her head above water this long. She blamed all the rescuers in her life. If only they’d let her be, she’d be in peace.

‘I’m proud of you. I admire your courage and strength.’

‘Doesn’t feel like strength to me. It’s a struggle. My life is one big struggle.’

Tasmin was silent a moment. She didn’t know what to say. It was hard to look Freya in the face at times.

‘But don’t worry about me. The hospital is taking good care of me.’ Freya smiled. ‘It’s nice to see you. I’m glad you came.’

‘Yes me too.’

Freya hadn’t seen her since the evening they’d all been out. Tasmin and Loretta had all tried to help her, but Freya was beyond help. They’d always popped in here and there to make sure she was alright. It wasn’t like Freya missed them, her friends were vodka and cocaine and occasionally tequila. Those friends never let her down the way real people did.

‘So when’s the big day?’ Freya was doing everything in her power to make conversation. The medication had made her a little drowsy and she really wanted to have a nap, but she would try and be polite.

‘Next September. I’d like you to be at my wedding.’

‘That’s if I’m still alive.’ She joked, but Tasmin didn’t laugh. ‘It’s a joke.’ It wasn’t really. ‘I would love to be there.’

‘Great. I’ll make sure I send you an invite.’

‘Perfect.’

There was a minute of uncomfortable silence, but soon Tasmin broke the silence by making small talk. It was another twenty minutes before she said her goodbyes.

‘It was nice to see you,’ said Freya.

‘Yes it was nice to see you too. Don’t be a stranger.’

‘I won’t.’

They hugged and Tasmin was on her way. Freya headed to her room. She didn’t have to check in with a nurse. She was free to do as she wished, and they checked in on her every hour. It was another long road to recovery. Freya just wished it would end.

****

The next morning, Freya was face to face with a therapist. It had been a while since she’d had a one on one. This time the hospital was trying a different approach, hoping she wouldn’t return.

‘How are you feeling, Freya?’ asked the therapist.

Freya shrugged.

‘Happy, sad, discouraged? If there was one word to describe how you feel, what would it be?’

‘Death.’

‘You don’t mean that.’

‘I do. I want to die. I don’t know why people won’t just let me get on with it.’

‘Because they love you, and it would be hard losing you.’

She was silent.

‘Why do you want to die? Perhaps if we get to the bottom of this we could finally put this to bed.’

‘The only way to put this to bed is for me to die. And one day I will be successful.’

The therapist kept her cool and stayed non-judgmental. She’d come across a lot worse things.

‘Why did you start drinking? Let’s start there. You weren’t always a drinker or taking drugs. What happened?’

‘Nothing happened. My life is just a miserable mess.’

The therapist looked at the notes in front of her a while.

‘The last time you were admitted, you were hearing voices. Tell me about them.’

‘I can’t. I don’t know what to say.’

‘What do the voices say?’

‘I can’t really hear them. Sometimes they’re whispers, sometimes just loud noise.’

‘When did you first start noticing them?’

‘I don’t remember.’

‘I see. I’m really trying to help you. I want you to realise that you can finally get to a place where you are happy.’

‘I doubt that very much. Nothing will ever make me happy. All the medication does is shut out the voices. It’s fine for a while, but soon enough the urge to die comes again.’

‘I really want to help you, but until you start talking, we can’t move forward. You’ll end up here again.’

‘Or in the morgue.’

‘Would you like to talk about your family instead?’

‘No. I’d like to leave now if that’s okay.’

The therapist nodded. ‘We’ll try again tomorrow.’

Freya stood up and left. Later that day, Ferguson came to visit. For the first time in her life she actually enjoyed a visit. Most visits were just that, visits, and she had to pretend to enjoy their company, but this time she actually did enjoy his company.

‘How’s it been so far?’ he asked.

‘The usual. I have to pour out my sob stories so they can fix me. The truth is I can’t be fixed. No one can fix me.’

He leaned forward and said, ‘I can. I can fix you.’

She shifted on the chair. They were sat in her room. ‘No one can fix me, not even you. I’m broken.’

‘And why is that?’

‘It just is. I’m damaged. All the booze and coke has ruined me. I don’t think I have long left anyway.’

‘I see. Well, I know you’ll be different soon. This time next year you’ll be a different person.’

She laughed. ‘Do you know how many times people have tried to fix me. Not even the professionals can.’

‘But I can. You’ll see.’

She studied him a moment, a curl appeared on his lips.

‘I think you and I are alike.’

‘I doubt that very much.’

‘Well, things will change. I’m here for you. I will make your life beautiful again.’

‘I see.’

‘You will.’ He took her hand and gave it a rub. ‘Anyway, do you know when you’ll get out?’

‘Soon I suppose.’

‘Sounds good. I want to take you out for dinner. We didn’t quite finish dinner last time.’

‘Yes well, we might never get to the finish.’

He smiled.

‘I could do with some coke. I feel as if I’m going to lose it in here. The meds do help, but I do need some powder. Please.’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

‘You can contact my supplier Allen…I have his number.’

‘Don’t worry about that. I’ll find someone reliable.’

‘Oh okay.’

‘It will all be okay.’ He gave her hand a squeeze.

‘Why are you being nice to me? I’m a complete mess.’

‘Because I like you. I think you’re very beautiful, smart and successful. You have all the qualities I admire in a woman.’

‘Except for my horrible drug and alcohol abuse. Clearly those are not admirable traits.’

He smiled as he brought her hand to his lips and brushed it with his lips. ‘You’re perfect to me.’