Chapter 2

August 21st 1982

Dark...

Dirty...

A haze hanging in the crisp night air...

The echoes of the police sirens rang out across the litter strewn alleyway as squad car after squad car raced past the opening to the street and disappeared into the distance, blinks of blue and red still flashing along the crumbling brickwork, slowly dying until eventually fading into the night. As she turned to face forward, it suddenly dawned on Tiffany that this didn't seem the kind of neighbourhood to be taking a midnight stroll through. Not at this time of night at least. As she moved between the hulking buildings and picked up the pace, she found herself approaching a car, the bodywork severely rusted, the wheels stripped away, windows smashed to oblivion as she found herself stepping carefully through the broken glass, her heels offering next to no protection as the obligatory crunching underfoot eventually led to a shard of glass breaking free and bedding in the side of her foot. Leaning to one side, arm outstretched, propping herself against the wall to her right, she lifted her leg and took in the sight of blood beginning to stream from her foot, dripping through her fishnets and slowly, almost poetically, splattering as it struck the concrete beneath her. She knew she should have stuck to the open roads, the security of streetlights, the advice from the other girls at the diner perhaps better off ignored as they told her a way to cut twenty minutes from her journey home as the diner closed up for the night, Ron the owner laughing to himself as he hopped behind the wheel of his Chrysler and tore off into the distance. Four weeks she'd been working at the place, and call it female intuition, but she had the feeling her presence did not sit well with the other staff, constantly bitching about sharing tips between 'yet another person' and losing out on shifts. Don't get her wrong, but Tiffany understood where they were coming from, but she needed the money too. She'd been in the city less than six months and she was determined to prove her mother wrong. She could do it, she would stand on her own two feet, whether the bitches at work came to terms with that or not didn't matter. She had rent to make, just like them. As she allowed her mind to wander, she slowly lowered her foot to the concrete floor and felt the stinging sensation as she allowed her weight to rest on it.

Then...

Just a blur...

She felt something hard slam into her from behind, but she'd no idea who, or even what, it was. All she knew was that as she was thrown through the air she'd literally been able to pin point the moment the air was sucked from her lungs as she crashed into the ground, landing between two overflowing garbage cans, the rotten food and household waste covering her head to toe as she attempted valiantly to get her bearings, let her mind register what was happening. Lunging forward, her ribs screaming in compressed agony as she moved, her back began to burn. Her purse had fallen from her arm as she'd been sent spiralling to the ground, and now she saw it, resting a few feet from her as she knelt forward on her hands and knees, panic and anxiety taking over as she calmly reached for it. Flinging her arm forward, she just about grabbed the strap of the purse as a heavy, leather boot came crashing down, snapping her wrist to the floor as Tiffany cried out in pain, fear, confusion. Falling to her face, the boot never relenting, she managed to look up into the eyes of a man, not old, but his face contorting in delight as his wrinkled features examined her with great enthusiasm. The toothless smile, the cackle of manic laughter as the man reached into the back pocket of his stained, unwashed jeans and produced a knife, flicking the switch on the mother of pearl handle and allowing the moonlight to reflect along the edge of the freshly ejected blade. She'd never been in a situation like this before, and now, as panic set in firmly, she had no idea what to do. Should she bide her time? Make a run for it? Go along with whatever this disgusting example of a man demanded? What should she do? She took a deep breath and tried, struggled to stay calm as she gazed into his drug filled eyes once more, the dilated pupils moving over her young, tender body as she lay, prone and vulnerable. As she stared straight back into the eyes of frail looking, yet extremely unhinged man, she was startled to hear him speak, his thick British accent completely against what she had expected as the man spoke. He reminded her of Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poopins in a way. The accent rolling off his tongue, alien to Tiffany, but still riddled with a common, working class, bottom of the barrel tint.

"Now then sweet'eart." He hissed as he began to bend over, his face getting closer, close enough for Tiffany to smell the putrid breath as it filled her nose. "Little bit late for a walk, innit?"

"Please." Tiffany sobbed, the pain from her wrist beginning to register as the shock of the situation subsided. "I don't have any money, but you're welcome to take whatever you want... Just don't hurt me!"

The tears began flowing as she closed her eyes and attempted to bury her head in her arms. Looking quickly around, the sound of Tiffany's crying beginning to pick up volume, the man threw his head back, his greasy, thin hair whipping back over his scalp as he dropped to one knee and grabbed Tiffany's hair, lifting her head until she acknowledged his presence, the fear in her eyes satisfying him immensely.

"Now then..." The filthy assailant spat as he playfully tilted his face towards her. "Seen as you've no cash dear... We'll 'ave to see what else you've got."

Reaching down, Tiffany's wrist still gripped beneath his boot, the tramp grabbed Tiffany's blouse and ripped it open, her breast exposed as they threatened to spill from her bra, her panting, trembling beginning to arouse the man as he took in the sight before him. He was about to say something as he reached out, his dreams coming to life before his eyes as his hands shot out towards Tiffany's chest... But he never got that far. As he was in mid lunge, Tiffany suddenly saw the man leap backwards, somebody else stood behind him, as her attacker grasped at his throat, clawing away at his neck, scratch marks beginning to appear as the man cut at his throat with his long, broken and dirty finger nails. Whoever had happened upon their little scene had gotten a hold of him and wrapped something around his neck, pulling tighter still as the tramp fell to his knees, his eyes beginning to roll back in his head as his hands began to tire, the flailing limbs slowing immensely as Tiffany managed to get a good look at the two men wrestling in the shadows across the alleyway. Within a minute it was over, Tiffany's rescuer releasing his grasp on whatever weapon he had used to garrotte the tramp and allowing his body to fall face first into the concrete, glass from the smashed windows of the car breaking his fall as he let his last gasp of air fly from his body. Sitting back, rocking on her haunches, Tiffany looked along the floor and found the knife, dropped as the man was pulled off her, the cold hand of death caressing his neck with every second that passed. Now, as she held the knife out at arms length, Tiffany noticed her hands shaking, trembling with adrenaline as her saviour emerged from the shadows to greet her. His long black hair, the most beautiful smile she had ever laid eyes on, his long tweed jacket and scarf, Tiffany knew this man. He'd been coming in the diner ever since she started working there, not every night, but more often than not. A cup of coffee, followed by a Danish pastry to go. But she couldn't remember his name, no matter how hard she tried, it eluded her as he reached out to her and allowed his teeth to show through his smile.

"It's okay." He assured her as he grabbed her wrist. "He'll not bother you anymore. Trust me."

Tiffany thought about it for a few seconds before lowering the knife, still gripped in her fist as she stood to her feet. The gentleman stood before her moved to one side, allowing the convulsing figure of the tramp to enter her line of sight.

"You know..." He spoke as he gestured with a nod towards the man, "He doesn't have to die."

Tiffany pulled her blouse together, the buttons ripped from the garment as the filthy bastard had set his sights on raping her. Lifting her forearm to her face, she wiped away the tears and looked at the knife, before allowing her eyes to return to the tramp.

"I know what you're thinking..." Her hero spoke again. "He deserves it... Who'll know... You'd be doing the city a favour. I'm not gonna stop ya. I just want you to know what a big thing you'd be doing. Ending a life I mean."

He'd more or less finished his sentence as Tiffany barged past him, reaching the man in no time at all, the glass crunching under her feet once more as she dropped to her knees and without a second thought, not a tingle of remorse, plunged the blade of the knife into the man's heart, his body pausing from the sporadic movements as his eyes closed and his life drifted away, once and for all.

"He deserved it..." She stood and addressed the stranger. "Don't you fucking say he didn't!"

The man simply smiled and lifted his hands in a surrendering gesture.

"Why don't we start again..." He grinned. "I'm Charles. Although my friends tend to call me Chucky."

The name still didn't ring a bell with Tiffany as she answered him.

"Tiffany..." She replied.

"Well..." Chucky lowered his hands. "Am I okay to call you Tiff?"

She nodded as she looked down at the corpse beside her feet, shock beginning to grip her like a vice.

"Well Tiff..." Chucky spoke again. "Let's clean you up, and get a coffee inside you. What d'ya say huh?"

And with that, he removed his overcoat and wrapped it around her as they began to walk, the cold feeling, the realisation of what she had just done washing over her and making her sick to the pit of her stomach as she heard Chucky speak, his words muffled by the millions of thoughts racing around her head.

"This could be the start of something good..."

Slowly, as they walked, Tiffany began to fade back to the present...

Back to a more recent nightmare...

September 18th 1990

Now, as she stood in the hallway of her shared apartment, she felt good, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, the drug she had become so accustomed to beginning to take effect, such a euphoric feeling as she gave a small giggle and felt her back tingle. The warm feeling slowly began to register across her thumb, slowly making its way across the back of her hand and down her wrist as the sound dragged Tiffany from her trance-like state. That same noise she had heard all those years ago as she examined her foot. The splatter of blood as it slammed into the floor, slowly at first, consistency growing with every drop as Tiffany opened her eyes and stared dead ahead. The eyes of her roommate Evan bored into her skull as the colour literally fell from his face, shock etched into every pore of his body as his mouth slightly grimaced. Looking down to find Evan pressed against the wall of the entry to the apartment, Tiffany found her hand grasping the knife, the length of the blade plunged viciously into Evan's stomach as blood began to flow, almost erupt from the wound as Tiffany suddenly withdrew the knife and allowed Evan to flop to the floor, torrents of blood streaming from the open wound and spreading, forming a maroon pool around his unmoving body. Taking a step back, followed by another, Tiffany suddenly felt the cold touch of the wall behind her as she visibly jumped, her mind startled instantly, dragged from the deepest reaches of her soul. She took in the sight again, Evan laying peacefully as the lake of blood refused to let up, the tacky fluid spreading quickly over the wooden floor, staining at the smallest touch. Slowly, carefully, sinking to her knees and dropping the knife, Tiffany allowed her mind to wander a little more, casting it back over the last few days as she finally made progress, the events that followed, seeming to unfold at an alarming rate as the dominoes of her obsession began to fall, one after another...