Spare Key Read online

  They were the rules: you didn’t scream and you didn’t cry, or it got worse.

  But the fear barely had time to creep in before the red started to close across his vision and his sobs cut off before they even really began. Replaced by a smile as the walls and ceiling began to form. Because he wasn’t the helpless child he was then and the power had been switched around.

  Switched around so it was time for his revenge.

  And the bench formed before his eyes, loaded with the arsenal of playthings he’d built up over the years to complement the original set of kitchen knives and it was so tempting to take the key and go next door and take her but he knew he needed to be patient; that the man she left with looked strong and that he could cause problems.

  But that was okay, Ben thought, his grin spreading wider as he realised he was now inside the Red Room again. His erection jutting out hard against the leather apron as he studied them hanging there limply; just patiently waiting for his ministrations. There was plenty to keep him occupied here.

  …And in his mind the two images arrived simultaneously, flashing up in split screen. In one she was writhing on the bed and there was love in her eyes. Love mixed with desire and adoration but in the other the shutters had come down and her face was wreathed in smoke and her eyes blazed with anger and disgust and he fucking hated her so much but he loved her too but hated her for making him feel so conflicted. Hated her for the mix of arousal and hatred the images caused in him.

  And he moved over to number six, hanging on her hook, bathed in the glorious red hue. Her resemblance was slight: the same hair and eye colour, a vague likeness around the jaw, but she fought so much when he took her and even if she wasn’t one of his favourites, Ben wanted one that struggled now. He wanted her to fight hard. He wanted to watch as the realisation hit her. That despite her best attempts to escape, despite her belief she was a strong person, there was nothing she could do. That she was helpless.

  He yanked her down, the hook slurping as it emerged, shiny with a deeper red than the light that bathed it and slung her over his shoulder, his hands roving over her cold and lifeless buttocks as he marched over to the table and slung her down. The screams she’d unleash were already playing in his mind making his penis throb, and when he reached down to touch it; it was already slick with pre-cum.

  When he raised some up to the red light, it glistened just like blood.

  He’d tie her face down, he decided; face down so she’d look even more like her.

  He wrenched her legs and arms into position and slowly strapped her in. He watched the colour spread through her pallid frame, hunkered down so he could watch the sentience return to her eyes; watch the realisation of the situation dawn on her.

  She bucked hard and her screams were everything he’d hoped for. He watched fascinated as the restraints cut into her wrists and ankles, chafing free the skin, sending trickles of blood snaking down her limbs. He stood and circled her slowly, drinking it in, his mouth dry as he caught sight of her pussy, the lips parted by the splayed position, peeking at him from between her spread thighs.

  He’d start there this time. Start at the place she’d used to imprison him for so long.

  He stood and made his way to the bench and ran his hands over the array of knives, past the hacksaw and surgical scalpels, across the claw hammer and the two chipped and stained chisels. His hands gripped the power drill and just the feel of it had him gasping for breath as he slowly twisted the chuck and selected a bit from the pile on the bench.

  It was long and thick, the length of it covered with hooked and glittering barbs and the way they whirred as he experimentally depressed the trigger sent him weak at the knees with excitement. He could see it going in, grinding away. He could feel the flecks spattering against his skin and as he stepped toward her, his hand slipped beneath the leather apron.

  He began to masturbate…

  * * * * *

  When he snapped back, Ben was outside her window again and they were both stretched out in front of him, naked and sprawled, the man’s cock, limp against his thigh, still glistened with her juices around its base. Ben could see the filled and tied off condoms beside the bed and his breath caught in his throat as she shifted position slightly and he caught a glimpse of her pussy, smiling wetly between her thighs.

  He thought back to the minced one he’d left behind in the Red Room, the way the drill had gone in so easily, pulping and shredding. The screams she’d unleashed as he’d wedged it in, ramming it to and fro. He thought back to it and overlayed it onto the scene in front of him now and before he knew it he was ejaculating again, thick ropes of his jism spattering the glass much as they’d sprayed across the ruined snatch of number six.

  Ben was digging in his pocket, about to head for the back door when his eyes fell on the sheet of paper taped to the window and he felt something inside him shrivel as he realised she must have known about the cum and the fact it had disappeared would have only made her more suspicious. Did she suspect him?

  He read over the note again but it was hard to focus with his heart hammering away in his chest. The note didn’t mention him by name but who else would she suspect? Ben cursed his foolishness. What, he thought it would be fine? That it wouldn’t look strange that all this stuff just happened to occur a couple of days after he moved in?

  Quickly, he stripped off his t-shirt and mopped at the new ropes of sperm. But she hadn’t called the cops, he thought, his panic receding a little as he thought it through, she must still have her doubts. This didn’t mean he necessarily had to abandon his revenge. He’d just have to speed things up. Maybe do it now?

  No that would be stupid.

  But the key for his flat worked on both the back and front doors. Maybe this one was the same?

  If it was he could do it now.

  Ben crossed to the door, his heart pounding with excitement. What did it matter if the man was there? If he could enter silently, he could take care of him before he became a problem. It wouldn’t be like the last time, the man wouldn’t be unexepectedly coming home from a business trip. He could do it.

  He could…

  Ben hadn’t even realised he’d inserted the key until he heard the lock click open.

  It worked.

  The rush of power hit him, stiffening his cock. The idea that he had her in his power. He twisted the handle and the door began to swing open, the gap gradually growing tantalisingly wider.

  I need to get my tools, he thought, picturing where he’d start. He’d use the large carving knife on the man. Just quickly and efficiently slit his throat; get him out of the way in a hurry. He didn’t want him flailing about and waking her. No, he wanted that privilege for himself. He’d press the knife to her throat. He wanted to see the confusion as she awoke to the feeling of cold steel on her skin. Then he’d slowly hold up the duct tape so she could see it…

  The door halted an inch open and Ben ground his teeth in frustration. He had to restrain from just ramming it when he poked his fingers through the gap and felt the chain holding the door shut. It was so tempting. But how loud would the splintering wood be? He couldn’t risk waking them.

  He scrabbled around in the gap for a moment but there wasn’t enough room to get his hand in and he couldn’t slide the chain free. He bunched his hand into a fist, fighting back his irritation. He could be in there now; he could have already started…

  The laugh ripped through the air, ridiculously close and Ben flinched, the irritation disappearing as he stifled a scream. What the fuck was that? His mind raced even though he instantly realised it was coming from the neighbour’s yard. There was a faint murmur of voices and then another laugh exploded followed by frantic shushing noises.

  How long had they been there?

  Had they heard him?

  Suddenly it was like Ben was waking from a dream as he realised how close he’d come to doing something stupid. How close he’d let the ridiculous panic over the sign push him into rushing thin
gs. Why did he need to rush? Even if she told the police, what could she prove? And even if she knew it was him, she couldn’t possibly know that he could get in. That he had the key. She had no idea how close he could get to her. All he had to do was be patient and wait until she went out again. If he went through the front door there’d be no chain to stop him and he could have all the time in the world to make his preparations.

  Ben began to move back towards the fence, careful not to make any noise. He was so focused on his task that he almost went past his shirt, rumpled on the ground, and he shook his head as he snatched it up, trying to focus. He was making far too many little mistakes and he wondered whether it was some lingering effect of the pills or was it just that he was out of practice?

  How long would the medication take to wear off? For that matter, how long since he took the last one? Ben tried to think but couldn’t remember. Not that it really mattered. Especially not when he passed the window and saw her sprawled out once more. He couldn’t help pausing and pressing his fingers to the glass, remembering how often he’d stood over her body at night, his cuts throbbing, the knife in his hand. All those impotent nights where he’d tried to work up the courage to take the revenge he’d fantasised about for so long. All those wasted opportunities, before the overdose had taken her and they’d been shipped off into foster care, washed over him and a brief sadness gripped him. But it wasn’t long-lived.

  Because although he’d squandered those opportunities, he’d since found a way to have many, many more and those ones… well those ones were never ever wasted.

  * * * * *

  Rachel’s head was throbbing as she pressed the phone to her ear and was bombarded with Sarah’s cheery voice babbling out from the receiver. She shot a look at the clock; saw ten-fifteen glaring back at her and politely refrained from asking what the fuck Sarah thought she was doing ringing so early.

  The fact there wasn’t a trace of hangover in Sarah’s bubbly voice and that the voice gave the distinct impression she’d been up for hours already didn’t help her irritation at all. She shook her head to clear away the sleep and immediately realised that it was a bad idea. It only increased the throbbing and as she peered around sleepily, she realised that Mitch had indeed legged it.

  She’d suspected as much when the phone had woken her alone in her bed but she’d held out hope that maybe he was in the kitchen making breakfast or something. But apparently not and her irritation spiked again. No good-bye, no thanks for last night, no note, no nothing. Fucking great. It wasn’t like she wanted to fucking marry him and have his babies or anything but fuck, there was such a thing as common courtesy.

  Sarah was still babbling away and Rachel realised that she’d missed almost everything her friend had been telling her. Her stomach was starting to somersault and even though she really didn’t give a fuck what Sarah had to say, she snapped a reply. ‘What?!’

  There was a slight pause on the other end of the line and Rachel realised she might have been a little abrupt. Not that the bitch didn’t deserve it after last night.

  ‘Well, well, is someone feeling a little seedy this morning?’ Sarah’s voice was so bright and cheerful that Rachel was glad she wasn’t present. The temptation to stab her would be just too much. ‘Speaking of which, how’d it go last night? Come on, gory details.’

  ‘It was alright,’ Rachel croaked and had to remind herself it was allegedly one of her friends she was talking to.

  ‘Just alright? Come on.’

  There was a pause and Rachel rubbed at a bleary eye with the palm of her hand.

  When Sarah’s voice came back it was still cheerful but there was a slight edge of irritation to it.

  ‘Well, I’ll expect a full report once you’re feeling a little more sprightly but that’s not really why I’m calling. As I was saying, even if some of us weren’t listening, it’s about that guy last night… Um… Your neighbour… What’s his name again?’

  Sarah’s voice dropped out just long enough for Rachel to form the thought: like you don’t fucking remember.

  ‘Ben. That’s it. It’s about Ben.’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘Well he’s a strange one for sure.’

  Which is why I didn’t want you to fucking invite him over last night.

  ‘It didn’t seem to bother you that much,’ Rachel said, attempting a jovial tone. It didn’t work. It came out bitchy. Fortunately Sarah answered with a throaty chuckle.

  ‘Well, I was also pretty drunk last night.’

  Not that you sound it bitch.

  ‘But he is a weirdo if you ask me,’ Sarah continued, ‘he’s pretty obsessed with you.’

  Rachel ground her teeth a little, ‘Why? What did he do?’

  ‘Well first promise not to freak out. That you won’t do anything stupid.’

  Rachel ground her teeth some more. Her hand was starting to cramp from how tight she was gripping the phone. ‘I promise. What’d he’d do?’

  ‘Well, it’s just that he kept asking questions about you. Stuff like whether you had a boyfriend and that. If you were close to your family, that sort of thing.’

  ‘What did you tell him?’ Rachel could feel a slight pulse beginning to beat at her temple. As the bitch hesitated she felt like roaring: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU TELL HIM?!!

  She’s not a bitch. She’s your friend, the voice spoke up and Rachel caught herself just as she was about to let rip.

  ‘What did you tell him?’ she repeated through thin lips in a near whisper.

  ‘Well in all fairness I will say that I was really fucking drunk and, you know, I thought he was interested in you. Thought it’d be a good back up plan if Mitch didn’t work out.’

  Like fuck you did, Rachel screamed in her head. She could feel her eyelid fluttering rapidly over her left eyeball but, despite her best efforts, couldn’t seem to stop it.

  ‘I sort of told him it all, you know. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. It wasn’t like he was asking what sort of underwear you preferred or anything.’ Sarah’s voice dropped out for a second as Rachel focused on breathing in and out. When it came back it was a little more tentative. ‘Look, I’m sorry but seriously if you heard what I told him, you wouldn’t be at all pissed off. I only rang you because of what happened when you left.’

  Rachel worked her jaw carefully for a moment before replying. The tension in her body was knotting her neck, clamping pain in a line that was spreading down her shoulder and radiating through her arm. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Well it was as soon as you and Mitch left. He just stood up and followed. I mean I was halfway through a sentence and just boom, he was on his way to the door. And he had this really intense look in his eyes you know.’ Sarah paused but Rachel didn’t trust herself not to scream at her. ‘But that’s not the really odd bit…’ Sarah paused again, ‘Are you alright? You sound like you’re hyperventilating or something.’

  ‘I’m fine. What happened?’ Rachel hissed it before she could stop herself. Sarah sounded far less certain of herself when her voice came back.

  ‘Well, as I was saying, I was fairly drunk at the time. And, well, all I can say is… well. I mean God it sounds ridiculous but he was pretty cute you know. I thought, after I saw you and Mitch getting along so well. I thought I’d… well it’d had been a while for me too you know. I thought I’d see if there was any interest.’

  You fucking bitch of a lying slut. You were all over him the whole time, don’t try and justify it now.

  ‘You seemed pretty into him for most of the night from where I was sitting.’ It came out sounding really bitchy this time but Rachel was beyond caring. At this moment, she was so pissed off; she could happily see herself ruining their friendship forever. What did she fucking need her friends for anyway, they only fucking caused problems.

  ‘Did I?’ Sarah sounded offended now and the voice chirped up in Rachel’s head, laced with sarcasm. Wow, good job. Mission accomplished. ‘Are you pissed at me? I didn’t
know you fancied him.’

  ‘I don’t. What happened?’ Rachel’s entire body was trembling now. She felt strangely light-headed despite her thumping headache. Was she going to pass out? Have an aneurysm?

  ‘Well…’ Rachel could just see Sarah toying with the idea of being a bitch and hanging up. She restrained from growling into the receiver: just fucking tell me. ‘Well, I was feeling good to go by the time you walked out, you know, and when he up and left, I was a bit offended too. I thought we were getting on pretty well and stuff. So I followed him. Pretty much threw myself at him outside the pub and that was when it got a little weirder.’

  Rachel felt like shrieking laughter when it occurred to her what her friend’s problem was. He’d said no. Ha ha ha ha ha.

  Come on be charitable, the voice spoke up again but Rachel was in no mood to listen to it. Sarah was a pretty vain woman. The sort that spent a lot on her body: gym memberships, facials, waxing, solariums. What a blow that would have been to her ego. Fucking bitch deserves it after how she was acting… Even as she thought it though, it segued into a more disturbing one. Why would he have said no? It wasn’t like the money hadn’t been spent well. In fact, thinking back, Rachel struggled to remember a time when anyone had said no to Sarah.

  ‘I got no reaction. Like none at all. I was pushing up against him and everything. It was like kissing a marble statue. I even accidentally grazed his penis. I admit I’m not the most subtle person when I’m drunk and there was zero reaction there. So I got a little shitty and I must admit, I started making a bit of a scene, but while I berated him, he just stood there and took it. He didn’t seem to be at all bothered. Sort of stone-faced and dreamy. Fortunately Ana heard me and came and got me before I did anything really dumb but just before she did, this smile spread across his face and it was so friggin’ freaky and when he talked it was just this stilted monotone. Shit, I couldn’t even attempt an impersonation. He just said: sorry you’re not my type, you don’t look like her”,’ Sarah stopped talking and barked a nervous laugh.