Chapter 4
November 13th 1996
Warmth...
Enveloping her entire body...
Water flowing, blasting from the shower head as the steam filled the immaculately tiled bathroom and created a piping hot cloud of moisture, thick enough to choke as the door slowly and quietly opened. The perfectly polished shoes crept slowly across the floor tiles, the sound of running water and the occasional clunk from the antique plumbing masking the entrance of the man as he gently closed the door behind him and began to unfasten his shirt. From where he stood, narrowing his eyes and peering into the fog before him, he could just about make her out. Her heavenly body hidden behind the frosted glass of the shower door as she twisted and squirmed, the soap lathering magnificently along her shoulders before seductively slipping over the edge and sliding down her back. She had an undeniable quality that he had found lacking in the majority of his women, which was the ability to have the angelic appearance of complete and utter innocence, whilst at the same time giving off an aura of sheer, unbridled filth. Perhaps that was what had drawn him to her. Made him chase. Never relenting, almost destined it would seem to be in the position they both found themselves now. True she was half his age, and would almost certainly be seen as a gold digger by his immediate circle of friends and family, but just clapping eyes on this girl seemed to miraculously shave the years from his joints. Removing his shirt and slipping the shoes from his feet, he gave a smile as he reached below and began to untie his belt, trousers and underwear both falling to the floor instantly as he now stood completely naked and took in the sight of his lover, water flowing over her head, hair drenched as she took a deep breath and thrust her head beneath the shower head. Feeling his knees creak as he crept closer to her, he thanked his lucky stars and allowed a smile to cross his lips, more honoured than anything that the beautiful young girl before him had so much as looked at him twice. Reaching for the shower door and pulling it open with a click he stepped inside, his young female companion spinning in surprise, his lips against hers almost immediately, no time for pleasantries as she felt his hands grasp at her waist and push her gently back under the shower head. Her blonde hair saturated, the water cascading from the fixture above them, she closed her eyes and kissed back, feeling his hands creep slowly upwards, his tongue entering her mouth as he passionately forced himself upon her. Not the most romantic of scenarios, she could hear herself saying in her head, but she'd be a barefaced liar if she claimed not to love it this way. The secret meetings in hotel rooms, the feeling of his dominant figure forcing itself upon her as she submitted to him in every way. By now, his hands were on her breasts, generously sized, gleaming in the running water, his hands barely able to cradle them as she felt her nipples stand proud, erect under his touch, her hands clamped to his cheeks now dropping slowly down his body. Running over his chest, stopping briefly at his abdomen, she suddenly felt them wrapping around his penis, the rigidness, the length making her a completely different kind of wet. Opening her eyes, she smiled as she found him looking back at her, his eyes boring into hers as she reached for the shower gel and grasped it in her free hand. Applying a liberal amount to her opposite palm, she returned to his shaft, stroking him up and down, twisting her wrist as she did so, squirming in delight of her own as she felt him become harder, the shower gel, now a lather, working in unison with the movement of her wrist, friction minimal as she began to work him harder. Faster, rougher, his hands now clamped to her breasts, he pulled his lips from hers and arched his body backwards, gasping in delight as the water ran over both their naked bodies, his tweaking of her nipples now becoming stronger, more vigorous as they both played with each other. Without saying a word, she instantly dropped to her knees, his hands releasing her as she did so, the man standing there in ecstasy as the water sprayed the both of them. Looking up from her position, kneeling right before him, the woman gave a smile, her hand still gripping his erect penis, her wrist still working valiantly as she yanked his foreskin back, quicker and harder every time, the slightest pain bringing a smile to his face as she turned her attention back to his solid member. Slowly, almost teasing, she allowed her lips, thick and luscious, to very gently slide over the tip of his penis, his groans coming stronger as she continued playing with him violently, her lips now sliding over the tip and swallowing the gland completely as she continued to take him in her mouth, feeling him touch the back of her throat as she slid her lips to the very base of his shaft, withdrawing slowly as she looked up once more, the enjoyment evident on his face, his arms up, hands pressed against his greying hair in delight. Still playing, she withdrew her lips before repeating the procedure time and again, swallowing him, licking, teasing as she felt him pulse inside her mouth, the moment surely not far off as his breathing grew shallower, rapid as she continued to suck, his dick in her mouth fulfilling her every desire as she felt the hormones raging through her body. Before she knew it, she felt him tense, his body tighten as he reached the peak, his ejaculation coming completely unannounced as she felt the warm, bittersweet fluid hit the back of her mouth. The sound of the gushing water was no match for the volume of his cries, her lips still clamped around his manhood as he fired not once, not twice, but three times, each and every time forcing her to swallow his load. After a few seconds, when she knew for definite that he was done, she slowly rolled her lips back up his now softening length and released him from her mouth, his face one of elation as she looked up into his eyes and gave him a smile, slowly lifting her arm and casually using the back of her hand to wipe her lips clean.
"Mmmmmmmm..." She teased with a playful smile, the water still rolling over every curve of her body, glad to see the recent ejaculation had not dampened his spirit one iota. "My turn now?"
"Take it easy honey." He beamed, gasping as he ran his fingers tenderly down the side of her face. "We've got all night."
Fumbling along the surface of the bedside table, dazed, the lack of light in the room casting a blanket of darkness over every square inch, she fought the drowsiness and felt her hand grip the clock. God only knew what time they'd managed to finally get to sleep, her lover taking minimum time to feel reinvigorated following their shower antics and proceeding to take her time and time again. At first it had been raw, rampant intercourse. Savage, rough, erotic and brimming over with a sensual lust she claimed to have never experienced before, her lover too believe it or not, despite his advancing years. As they moved from the bathroom and into the hotel room itself, things had become more relaxed, the animal urges giving way to a passion, a gentleness as he began to caress and tenderly kiss, his hands working over every inch of flesh as he sought to pleasure her in ways she had never dreamed possible, succeeding as her screams filled the room, neighbouring guests left with little to imagine as her cries came again and again, time after time, louder with each wave of pleasure at his hands. Spinning the device to face her and blinking in the face of the bright, red, digital display, she felt a horror as the readout took a few seconds to sink in, the time displayed reading 02:24. Kicking the bed covers from her body and sitting bolt upright, the woman swung her legs over the edge of the bed and instinctively felt for the light, finding the lamp by her side and flicking the switch, now illuminating her side of the room in a dull, tranquil glow. Taking a deep breath and allowing herself time to adjust to the light, her eyes steadily started to focus and began to wander the floor. Finding their clothes strewn across the carpet in every direction, she pushed herself to her feet and began to gather her own garments, dressing as quickly as she could. Sliding the thin, lace material that somewhat resembled underwear over her knees and up to her waist, she hurried, next grabbing the soft, nylon stockings, laying side by side and gently unrolling them along the length of each leg, the beautiful, firm skin beneath now taking on a darker tone as the material covered her impressive, long legs, quickly fastening the clasps hanging from her underwear. Next, finding what barely passed for her dress hanging from the end of the bed post, she continued, placing it over her head and allowing the garment to fall the length of her voluptuous, well toned body, the shoulder straps stopping it from falling further as she wiggled a touch, straightening out the incredibly thin fabric as her ample bosom threatened to spill over the bust, the bottom of the dress barely covering her perky, firm ass, and indeed the lace tops of her stockings. Almost dressed, she scanned the floor once more. Only one of her heels lay accounted for. Suddenly, spying the missing shoe half hidden beneath the bed, she delicately coaxed it from its hiding place and slipped her feet inside, the heels lending an extra four or five inches to her petite stature as she spun around and took in the room, thinking, wondering, more importantly worrying, what she could be forgetting. Then it hit her. Jewellery. A pair of earrings and a watch sat proudly beside the digital clock, the woman completely bemused at how she missed them when switching on the bedside lamp. Reaching for her earrings, she gently pushed her hair behind her ears, the thick, blonde shoulder length locks making way as she frantically slid the hooks of the tiny accessories through the tiny holes punched in the base of her ears, fastening them before finally reaching for her watch, jumping in fright as a hand shot out of the darkness and gripped her tight.
"Jesus Roland!" She exhaled, a smile appearing as she froze, her heart racing. "You almost gave me a damned heart attack!"
"I could say the same thing." Roland smirked, relaxing his grip and allowing her to pull away. "You almost gave me four tonight."
"I know." She giggled, securing her watch around her wrist and checking the time. "You didn't disappoint either."
"What time is it?" Roland asked, straining his eyes towards the clock, giving up as he turned and reached for his glasses, the wiry framed optical apparatus resting on the opposite bedside table.
"Almost two thirty!" She answered as she bent double and grabbed her handbag, the tops of her stockings flashing briefly as Roland suddenly perked up, his hand reaching out and slithering around her waist, pulling her in and taking her breath.
"Then we have plenty of time." He laughed as she fell into his arms, now sitting beside him, arms tight around her waist as he buried his face in her hair and began to kiss her neck.
"I'd love to." She sighed, leaning forward and turning to face him, resting on the edge of the bed. "But I have to go. I told my sitter I'd be back by one. She's probably dialled 911 already."
"Well, if you insist." He released his arm and allowed her to stand, eyes never leaving her frame, sheer sex exuding from every molecule of her body. Finally, he gave her a sympathetic look and spoke, his playful expression disappearing instantly as his tone turned serious. "It won't always be like this you know."
"Yeah, yeah." She answered, opening her handbag and fishing through the contents.
"I mean it Sarah." He replied flatly. "I'm coming clean."
"What?" She stopped, casting her eyes in his direction, the soft cotton bedsheets covering his naked body, hormones surging as she fought the urge to jump right back in bed with him.
"I'm telling Mary." He responded. "This weekend. I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to you... To us."
"You mean it?" Sarah answered, dropping to a sitting position by his side once more, his warm hand stroking her shoulder.
"Really." He replied. "It's you I love. I can't keep living a lie."
Turning towards him, eyes welling up, Sarah couldn't help it. A smile broke out as she gave an ecstatic giggle and threw her arms around him.
"My god." She wept, eyes streaming with happiness. "I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll wait for me." He asked. "We can't be together at once. The second she gets wind of an affair she'll bleed me dry."
"Of course, of course." Sarah pulled back, wiping her tears, the long nails gracing her finger tips almost scratching her face. "And my boys?"
"I can't wait to meet them." Roland laughed. "Now go on. Get out of here. I'll call you tomorrow."
Planting her lips upon Roland's, Sarah kissed him, long, hard and slow, before standing from the bed and fishing her car keys from the open handbag still clenched in her hand.
"Speak tomorrow baby." She whispered as she reached the door and blew him a kiss. "I love you too."
And with that she was gone. Disappearing into the corridors of the hotel as Roland threw his hands behind his head and relaxed, kicking the soft bed linen from his naked body and allowing the cool air of the Chicago night to envelope him at once. As a wry smile crossed his lips he began to laugh to himself. How could he leave Mary? Mary who had been by his side since day one, supporting him through medical college, taking care of things at home in a way only she could manage. No that simply wouldn't do. Besides which she'd be entitled to half of everything, more if news of his affair with Sarah ever became common knowledge. No, Sarah was a fun girl, but he wasn't willing to sacrifice everything he'd ever worked for, not for her. But she was happy, and that was what mattered right now. Fingers crossed, he could have another night like this next month, a burst of laughter as he felt his groin ache, the nights events leaving him a little sore. She was a beautiful girl alright, but far from classy. Not quite trash, but a whore when she wanted to be, which was the only department his beloved Mary had ever let him down in. But considering the fun he'd had tonight, he wouldn't have it any other way.
Strolling the length of the empty corridor, Sarah found herself aching, a smirk as she fondly recalled the events of the evening herself, Roland not holding back as he appeared to unleash years of pent up sexual frustration. She'd always known it would be like this, tried to tell herself not to get too involved. But then the phone calls started, the flowers, the gifts, how was she ever supposed to feel anything other than what she felt right now? Stopping and pressing the button for the elevator, she waited patiently, her eyes taking in the reflection cast in the elevator door. From the tips of her high heels to the very top of her wavy blonde hair, she had to admit she looked magnificent tonight, which was no less than Roland deserved. Sure he was old enough to be her father, but who cared? Not her, that was for damned sure. Deep in thought, the elevator door suddenly opened, the empty carriage before her now beckoning Sarah in as she stepped gracefully inside and turned to the control panel, struggling to remember which floor she was parked on. Remembering, she pressed the button for the second floor and leaned against the cold back wall of the elevator, watching as the doors slowly closed and she began her descent, leaving floor five and arriving at her destination in a matter of seconds. As the doors opened once more and Sarah stepped into yet another generic hotel corridor, she simply hung a left and headed through the double doors before her, quickly finding herself in the glum lighting of the multi-storey car park, her car sitting just a few spaces across the concrete as Sarah picked up the pace and approached the stationary vehicle, key at the ready as she automatically slid it into the lock of the door and twisted, the car door unlocking with a click. As she opened the driver's door the interior light flickered on, remaining that way as she climbed in and slammed the door closed, adjusting the rear view mirror and carefully examining herself before reaching into her bag and applying a few dabs of foundation. The heat was incredible, especially for a November night. Or was it just her? Cheeks flushed, a post-coital radiance giving her a vibrant glow, the car seemed like a furnace as she grabbed the handle sitting on the door panel and wound the window down, an influx of air making her body feel fresh and chilled. Applying an extra touch of mascara, she decided to tone it down a touch. The idea was that she looked as though she'd been for a night out with friends, the designated driver, but still looking like a good night had been had. She had to laugh at the irony of that, the strokes of the mascara brush harder to control as the giggles increased. Of course she'd had a good night. The best night of her life no less. But that was something completely different. Returning her various beauty products to the confines of her handbag, Sarah sat back in the driver's seat and took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts as she sat behind the wheel of the relatively new 1993 Honda Civic. Remembering the time, Sarah snapped herself from her daydreaming and jammed the key in the ignition, twisting and hearing the 1.6 litre engine fire into life, the 16 valve engine purring like a content kitten, as though it had just left the factory. Not the biggest or fastest car, but reliable, which was what she needed. After all, a single mother with two sons had enough on her plate without having to worry about the reliability of her car. Suddenly a sound erupted from somewhere else within the parking lot, the floor above almost trembling as another engine growled into existence, the low pitch, but deafening roar of the hungry machine echoing throughout the concrete pillars and deserted structure, the driver of said engine giving it some gas as the revs climbed before plummeting again, the throaty exhaust blowing the cobwebs from the rafters of the multi-storey lot. Thinking nothing of it, Sarah slipped the Honda into gear and released the parking brake, gently applying the gas and manoeuvring the car towards the downwards ramp as her eyes flitted towards the dashboard clock, now reading 02:45. Crossing the first floor and descending again, Sarah found herself at the bottom of the exit ramp and about to pull onto the quiet back street, taking a second to look both ways before pulling into the empty street and turning left, heading towards the upcoming intersection and the even quieter main road. As she approached the end of the road, she caught sight of something in her rear view mirror. Another car, leaving the hotel parking lot and pulling away from the exit ramp, also turning left and heading towards the intersection before steadily coming to a stop behind her. Although dark and straining her eyes, Sarah could tell it was a red car, and a large one at that. But apart from that she was absolutely clueless, although she really had no call for a more thorough examination. She would have been the last person to find something shocking about somebody leaving a hotel in the middle of the night. Turning her attention back to the road and signalling right, Sarah once again checked both directions before easing the Civic onto the barren streets and heading downtown. The car behind followed on, hanging back as the two vehicles calmly rolled along, the odd pedestrian making their way home as the last of the local drinking establishments closed for the night. Passing through town Sarah found it astounding how the streets looked. Completely empty, so different to the rush hour traffic she had grown used to. Countless hours stuck bumper to bumper. Roadworks, accidents, all manner of events to blame as each and every car struggled through the overcrowded city streets, horns blaring as voices hollered over the sounds of numerous engines, each one accusing another motorist of some petty misdemeanour or another. The buildings whizzing past had never looked so dilapidated either, the weathered store fronts and crumbling office blocks only serving to backup the run down reputation the area found itself lumbered with these days, the darkness doing little to mask the peeling paint and broken windows. Passing beneath a railway bridge, Sarah's eyes were instantly distracted, the warning light suddenly illuminating on the instrument panel as the gas light blinked incessantly, the car running low on gas. Mind temporarily diverted, she returned her full attention to the road ahead, just missing the battered, and worn news stand as she passed, the owner's sandwich board chained to a nearby streetlight as it proudly displayed the most recent headline of the Chicago Tribune, the words standing out against the off white background.
'Woman Murdered - Execution Leaves Police Baffled'
Brain frantically working away, Sarah ran through a mental map of the area, trying to think, work out the nearest gas station as her hands and feet entered autopilot, the steering wheel turning fluidly, heels working the pedals as she took turn after turn. Over time, the surroundings became more and more distressed as she entered a notoriously troubled district, crime and gang violence among an all time high as Sarah locked her doors and kept moving, looking in her rear view mirror to find the same car sat a safe distance away. Slightly disturbed, an uncomfortable feeling swept across Sarah as she allowed her eyes to flick from the road to her mirror, pulling over slightly and slowing, signalling the car behind to overtake, get past and leave her be. But the more she slowed, the closer she came to the kerb, the less likely it looked that the following vehicle had any intention of passing, the hulking red monster of a car keeping its distance as the engine thundered under the lack of revs. Turning her eyes from the mirror and back towards the road, she felt relieved as a gas station appeared on the horizon, speeding up a little as she approached and signalled in. Figuring this would be a defining moment, Sarah kept one eye on the mirror as she slowed, turning from the road and creeping onto the gas station forecourt. The car behind, Sarah figured, would do one of two things. Either carry straight on, which would hopefully dispel any feelings of paranoia she had felt building over the last ten minutes, or the car would follow in to the gas station, allowing Sarah to get a good look at the driver. Much to her relief, as she came to a stop beside a gas pump, Sarah watched as the red classic rolled straight on past the gas station, a Plymouth Fury unless she was mistaken, the driver well hidden behind the glass, the reflection of the gas stations lights providing an unwelcome shield as Sarah cursed her luck and killed the engine. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was a guilty conscience. No matter how good her times with Roland were, there was always the feeling at the back of her head, constantly there, never letting her relax, even for a second, like a vulture feverishly picking at a freshly discovered corpse. The 'other woman' thing wasn't ideal, and truth be told she felt awful, imagining how she would take it were it to be the other way around. But there was something about the whole scenario that had her addicted, Roland able to reel her in at a moment's notice, and not just because of the money, the gifts, but the way he made her feel. Taking a deep breath and allowing herself to relax, Sarah threw open the driver's door and walked to the rear of the car, lifting the nozzle of the gas pump and removing the filler cap of the Honda. Pumping twenty dollars worth of gasoline into the tank, Sarah replaced the nozzle and opened the door of the car, reaching into her bag and pulling the last twenty dollar bill from her purse before skipping across the forecourt and approaching the security glass. Quickly slipping her money underneath the glass and giving the young cashier a smile, she turned and headed back to the car, the unmistakable feeling of being watched as she felt the young man's eyes slowly work their way up her stockings and over her butt, eventually coming to a stop before working their way back down. She had to give herself a little smile at the very thought, the feeling that somebody could be watching her and having inappropriate thoughts kind of turned her on if she were to be honest, pulling open the car door and delicately climbing inside, giving her new admirer a sly smile and a wave as she started the engine and proceeded to leave the gas station, rejoining the road and heading for home. Turning on the radio and fiddling with the tuner, she cursed the failing electronics of the cheap, Japanese component, calming eventually as the radio finally settled, picking up some obscure alternative rock station. Feeling the chill of a sudden breeze, Sarah rolled the driver's window back up, the cold beginning to bite slightly as she drove along, the cars suspension riding every pothole and gliding over the asphalt of Chicago's South Side. Deciding to give the radio station five minutes, Sarah relaxed as she handled the vehicle, giving the station sufficient chance before finding it to her disliking. Allowing her eyes to leave the road for a few seconds, she fiddled with the buttons once more, finding nothing but a squealing distortion, piercing the ears as she gritted her teeth and instantly snapped the radio off, cursing once more as she approached another intersection, the lights red as Sarah gently applied the brakes and came to a stop, the quiet morning still beautiful and serene as the area lay dormant beneath the many streetlights. All at once she found herself ripped from her day dreams, the rumbling noise of an engine erupting as a car pulled up behind, Sarah peering into both her wing mirrors in shock, spinning in her seat and almost blinded by the headlights of the mighty machine as she noticed one distinctive feature regarding the vehicle now sat ticking over to her rear. It was red. The same car? She couldn't tell for sure, such was the proximity of the vehicle to her rear fender, but she had a feeling deep down that it was indeed the same car. What the fuck was this? A joke? Somebody playing a trick? Trying, maybe, to scare her? Then it hit her hard. The only logical conclusion Sarah could come to sending a chill down her spine as her hairs stood on end. It had to be Mary. Roland had never spoken at length about his wife, but Sarah knew from what she'd heard that Mary wasn't a fool. Definitely not somebody to let the trivial matter of an extramarital affair pass by without some form of revenge, be it Roland or Sarah that became the target. It had to be her. Simply had to be. She'd learned of their secret and had decided to confront Sarah once and for all. Of course she had no need to intimidate Roland in this manner, that would be the job of Mary's lawyer as she applied for her share of the family's estate, but as far as Sarah was concerned Mary would see her as fair game, the rage burning deep within and now bubbling to the surface, a dragon unleashed. Seeing the interior of the Honda change from the crimson red of the lights hanging way above the vehicle, Sarah turned back towards the road, the car now bathed in a sea of green as the light indicated the intersection was now safe to cross, Sarah panicking and slipping the car into first, lifting the clutch and hammering the throttle. The wheels of the Honda spun and screeched, a thin layer of rubber melting from the tyres as the car burned away from the lights, the Plymouth sitting motionless before the driver eventually popped the clutch and calmly followed on. Calmness, unfortunately, was a factor not afforded to Sarah, her Honda bursting forward, speeding through the streets of Chicago's South Side as she switched through the gears and jammed the gas pedal to the floor, the speed limit well and truly forgotten for the time being as she looked in her rear view mirror, the Plymouth at first lagging badly behind, suddenly seeming to catch up as the driver gave it some gas, the two cars brought closer as the stretch of road came to an end, Sarah having to apply the brakes at the last minute and carefully take the corner, the pursuing car doing the same, only recovering far more quickly as the hood of the car loomed over the rear of Sarah's tiny Honda. Up ahead another set of lights, changing from green to red as Sarah's eyes flickered from front to back, hitting the throttle again and powering through the lights and across the intersection. Looking in her mirrors, she felt a wave of nausea overcome her as the red Plymouth also upped its speed, ploughing across the empty intersection like there was no tomorrow, the driver obviously setting her sights on one thing and one thing only, Sarah's Honda. The streets kinked and turned, the cars fighting a frantic duel as they sped along, hubcaps flying from the two vehicles as they careered into sidewalks, bouncing over the uneven road surface, the Plymouth never relenting, the driver refusing to let up as Sarah became more and more scared, increasingly desperate as panic turned to terror. Hitting speeds way in excess of the appropriate limits, both cars continued, houses and store fronts a blur as they grew steadily faster, the Plymouths front fender connecting with the back of the Honda and sending a jolt through the chassis, rocking Sarah, who in turn let out a frightened shriek. Taking another look into the rear view mirror, Sarah narrowed her eyes and tried to make out the figure sitting behind the wheel, an impossible task as the cars headlights shone brightly, Sarah finding them blinding as she spun to face forward, retinas temporarily scorched. Before she knew it another intersection loomed, both cars zooming through the dilapidated streets as Sarah tried to brake, the Plymouth seizing the opportunity and ramming from behind, pushing the tiny Honda onwards and towards the intersection, Sarah pressing the brake pedal over and over, looking ahead and seeing a bus approaching from the right. The driver of the Plymouth also seemed to spy the upcoming obstacle, dropping a gear and accelerating even more, pushing the Honda faster and faster despite Sarah's best efforts. It was no use, the more she braked the harder the red Plymouth rammed her, pushing her along, the momentum working against her as the heavy vehicle behind showed no sign of slowing, only gaining speed. Closing her eyes and throwing both hands over her eyes, Sarah drew a deep breath and felt everything go silent, time seeming to slow as she awaited the fatal collision with the public transport. Feeling nothing, Sarah was drawn from her hiding place by the blaring horn of the bus, the driver alerting her to his presence as he passed by, the rear fender of the bus literally making it in time as the Plymouth finally relented and began to slow, Sarah's car missing the bus by inches as she finally hammered the brake vigorously, the car spinning across the intersection and into a row of parked cars, glass and twisted metal flying in all directions. Dazed, bleeding and battered, Sarah slowly came to, her concussion making the scenery spin as she reached for the door handle and stepped from the mangled wreckage that was her car, legs failing her as she helplessly dropped to her knees and vomited across the road. Lifting her hand to her face, she felt the pain burning away, examining her hand to discover fresh blood, the impact causing her to smash her head into the steering wheel, a few teeth loosened too by the looks of things. It was at this moment, the ghetto surrounding her predicament unflinching, that Sarah both heard and felt the familiar rumbling of the Plymouth's thunderous engine, looking up and casting her gaze into the blinding headlights of the vehicle as it sat yards away, the driver remaining inside as the engine bubbled viciously, the exhaust throaty and raw. Trying to stand, the pain too much, Sarah fell to the concrete below, arms outs wide as she tried to support herself, looking up once more as a fire erupted from inside, Sarah finally snapped, her voice breaking as she hollered across to the Plymouth.
"IT'S ME HE WANTS!" Sarah cried in torment. "FACE IT AND MOVE ON YOU BITCH!"
No reaction whatsoever, the engine of the Plymouth still idling as the driver remained hidden Sarah continuing as blood poured from her face, the suspected broken leg sending a jolt of pain surging through her lower body. Right now, pain was only temporary, merely an inconvenience as she burst forth with her vitriol.
"SHOW YOURSELF YOU COWARD!"
Now something. The engine of the Plymouth suddenly dropping silent, the exhaust coughing its final breath as the headlights died and the street fell deadly quiet. All of a sudden, Sarah heard a click, looking up to find the driver's door of the Plymouth slowly opening and a leg stepping out, the spiked heel of a stiletto striking the asphalt with a solid contact. Standing from the driver's seat and slamming the door closed, Sarah was shocked to take in the figure before her. Working her eyes from top to bottom, she began by examining the expensive heels, continuing up the stocking clad legs and across the tiny black dress, the small handbag hanging from the heavenly shoulders, the heaving chest leading into a beautiful face hidden behind a pair of dark glasses. The woman before her was probably not much taller, or indeed older, than Sarah herself, stunning to look at as her long brunette hair fell halfway down her back, her long legs beginning to slowly pace towards her. It was in this moment, that Sarah had a revelation, figuring that the young woman now stepping towards her was not in fact the small, unattractive and feeble little woman of advancing years that Roland called his wife, but was in fact somebody completely different. Most likely somebody completely unrelated too. Thinking of the words to say, Sarah was astonished to find the words involuntarily leaping from her tongue, the shock and adrenaline taking over as she found herself only able to listen in on her own words.
"Who are you?" Sarah asked bewildered.
No answer.
"Please..." She continued, practically begging, all efforts to reason with her unknown pursuer falling on deaf ears. "I have kids."
Still nothing, the woman remaining silent as Sarah wept on, only one question remaining as she battled through the dizziness, fighting the urge to vomit once again as she quietly whispered through the tears.
"What do you want?"
Without saying a word, the woman reached into her handbag, hanging from her shoulder, positioned conveniently by her waist, and withdrew a small pistol, before giving her head a casual flick and tossing the long brunette hair from her face. Pulling back the hammer of the pistol, she gripped the handle of the gun in both hands and lifted, aiming the barrel straight at the injured woman before her.
"NO!" Sarah screamed, sobbing hysterically as her voice strained, breaking as she pleaded on, begged again for answers as the tears flowed over her battered and bruised cheeks.
"What have I done?"
Then the woman spoke. Soft, almost falsetto, such was the pitch of her voice, as she smiled an evil smile and cooly replied.
"Probably nothing..."
Without so much as a warning, the woman suddenly squeezed the trigger of the pistol, arms jerking slightly as the small gun kicked like a mule, a total of four shots ringing out across the small area of Chicago's South Side, the houses littering the vicinity unmoving as a dog began to bark somewhere in the distance, a lone voice hollering into the early morning air to shut the hell up. Approaching Sarah's still warm body, the woman placed the gun back in her bag, rolling her eyes in amusement at the unidentified voice, and dropped to a squatting position, surveying the damage. Two shots in the chest, one in the neck and one in the face, all in all a good nights work. Standing, the woman gave Sarah's warm body a gentle kick, no response as she turned and started to approach the wreckage of Sarah's car. Reaching it in only a few short strides, the woman leaned in, spying Sarah's handbag and snatching it from the passenger side foot well. Standing tall and proceeding to retrace her steps, the woman searched the contents of the bag, releasing it from her grip as she pulled Sarah's purse free and opened it, ripping the various credit cards and identification from within, dropping all but one. Examining the driving licence now held firmly in her grasp, the woman dropped to her knees and compared the picture with Sarah's still warm corpse, enthusiastically allowing her lips to curl into a satisfied grin. Not only did the picture match perfectly, but the name was exactly what she had hoped to see.
'Sarah Pirce'
Rising to her feet and turning, the woman steadily started to make her way back to the Plymouth, tossing Sarah Pirce's driving licence over her shoulder and whispering quietly as she climbed back inside her own car and fired the engine into life, whispering to herself with a smirk as she slipped the car into first and pulled away, into the night.
"Two down..."
November 14th 1996
Leaping from his car newspaper above his head as the Baltic conditions swept across the parking lot, rain hammering from the heavens, Doctor Jacob Wright turned and slid the key into his car door, locking the vehicle behind him as he spun and began to race across the lot, puddle after puddle splashing around his ankles as he felt the water soak through his trousers, the cold beginning to bite as he tore across the asphalt. For a man approaching his sixtieth birthday, he was rather spritely, his slim figure and tall stature helping tremendously as he quickly reached the entrance of the building and repeatedly pressed the buzzer by the door, the receptionist looking up from behind the warmth of her desk and instantly releasing the lock as the door buzzed and fell silently open. Lowering his newspaper and giving it a shake, the doctor approached the desk and gave the young girl a smile as he greeted her, the sound of the driving rain slowly dying behind him, replaced by the voice of a local newscaster emanating from the radio as the door automatically closed.
"Morning Samantha." He began, his eyes working over the pretty young receptionist, all long blonde hair and well manicured fingers, quickly remembering the rules as she reached for the radio. "It's okay. I know how lonely the night shift gets. I think I'd be needing something to occupy me too were I in your shoes."
"Morning Doctor Wright." She smiled back, leaning to the side as she looked past the doctor and out into the downpour, the rain only seeming to get heavier as she watched and felt the comfort of the lobby. "I only turned it on for five minutes, then the news came on. Have you heard?"
"Heard what my dear?" The doctor asked, picking up the bulging file from Samantha's desk and carefully opening it, examining the latest notes.
"There's been a murder." The receptionist's eyes grew wide as she spoke. "Some woman. Shot four times, somewhere over South Side."
"Hmm?" Doctor Wright looked up from the file sitting in his hands, snapping the folder closed and placing it under his arm. "My word that's terrible. What have the police said? Have they apprehended anybody?"
"They haven't said anything other than she was shot four times." Samantha carried on. "Almost like there's something they don't want to tell us. I'm willing to bet it's connected to that other murder two days ago."
"What 'other murder'?" Doctor Wright asked, Samantha growing in volume and enthusiasm as she filled him in, relaying the story plastered across every newspaper, television broadcast and radio station over the last couple of days. Much to the doctor's surprise, another woman had been found hanging from a tree just two days previous, the local news going into meltdown as the story broke that she had indeed been strung up, but only after having been shot three times in the head and chest.
"Makes you wonder what the world's coming to." He sighed. "Oh well. What do we have for me this time then? I assume this file is for me?"
"Your favourite patient." Samantha answered. "Says she absolutely must speak to you, the second you came in."
"Isn't that usually the case?" He laughed, turning as he approached a pair of double doors in the far corner of the room, removing the ID card from the breast pocket of his jacket and running it across the card reader.
"Can I get you anything doctor?" Samantha asked as the card reader lit up, a bright, vibrant green as the locking mechanism of the double doors disabled with a clunk, Doctor Wright beginning to push the door open.
"No thank you Samantha." He answered with a cheery smile, his weathered face almost disappearing beneath a sea of wrinkles as he turned and made his way through the door, entering a brilliant white corridor, remarkably clean as the sign on the wall greeted him on his arrival.
'Illinois State Mental Facility'
Gripping the file beneath his arm and picking up the pace, Doctor Wright began to make his way to the counselling suite, his wet loafers squeaking heavily on the immaculate white linoleum floor as he walked along, the various offices and waiting rooms silent and empty as he hurried past and towards his destination, a lone voice ringing out suddenly and catching Doctor Wright of guard.
"Jacob, you old bastard." The friendly voice of Doctor Thomas Hoffmann rang out, echoing through the corridors as Doctor Wright spun in shock.
"Jesus Thomas!" He spat, his heart racing as he composed himself.
"What's the matter old boy?" Doctor Hoffmann laughed as he slapped his friend firmly on the shoulder, the cup in his opposite hand filled to the brim with steaming hot coffee.
"These early morning starts." Doctor Wright laughed as he caught his breath. "They'll be the death of me, I swear it."
"Hey it could be worse." Hoffmann instantly replied, a coy smile as he did so. "You could be stuck doing the graveyard shift, like me."
Was this a sly dig? Probably. Doctor Wright had often suspected his decision to bump Hoffmann to the night shift had gone down like a lead balloon. Not just with his old friend, but the nursing team also. Rumour had it that the night shift had become something of a militarized zone recently, far from the free flowing, anarchistic atmosphere of old. Doctor Hoffmann had seen to it that if he was working the night shift, then so was everybody else. No time for socialising, smoking, drinking the night away in the staff cafeteria. No, the way Hoffmann saw it, there was always something needed doing, even if that meant making a start on the day shift activities.
"Somebody has to do it Thomas." Doctor Wright countered, lifting his wrist and pulling back the sleeve of his tweed jacket. "It could be much worse. Think of that poor woman that's all over the news."
"Yeah I guess." Hoffmann replied with a shrug. "Some sick bastards out there."
"So you've heard?" Doctor Wright smiled.
"Okay, okay you caught me." Hoffmann held up his hands in defeat. "I had a quick break earlier on, that shit was all over the news. Although the police don't seem to be saying much."
"Well, I'm sure they have their reasons." Doctor Wright exhaled.
"Yeah, probably." Hoffmann answered, instantly changing the subject as he noticed the file tucked away beneath Doctor Wright's arm. "So... They finally gave in and paged you huh?"
"Looks like it." Wright replied, his own eyes falling to the file before shooting back to his friend. "What do you mean finally?"
"She's had us on our toes all night." Hoffmann blinked, a yawn developing from nowhere as he stretched slowly. "Been demanding to see you since late last night. Figured we'd give her time to calm down, see what came of it. Didn't want to wake you for nothing."
"I see." Doctor Wright pursed his lips and turned, gesturing for his colleague to join him as he continued down the seemingly endless corridor. "And what exactly has the patient been saying?"
"Same old, same old I guess." Hoffmann answered, keeping up with Doctor Wright as he picked up the pace. "Only this time she's demanding we fetch in the cops."
"The police?" Wright asked, turning to Hoffmann.
"Yeah." He nodded. "Asked for you, and also told us she wanted the police. Said she'd already asked you time and time again to call them."
"Yes, she did." Wright's turn to nod. "I was hoping it was just a passing phase. Something she'd hopefully forget about. Move on, you know?"
"Come on Jacob." Hoffmann laughed. "In all her time here has she ever let anything lie?"
"No, I see your point." Doctor Wright smiled as they approached their destination, digging the patient's file from under his arm and passing a drenched copy of the Chicago Tribune to his colleague, slowing as they came to a stop outside the door of Counselling Room A. "I'll go in, you set the video recording."
"Fair enough." Hoffmann nodded in agreement. "Think we're gonna need anything else?"
"No, no." Doctor Wright whispered. "I've never known her become violent. Aggressive maybe, but never violent. Now she wouldn't talk to you?"
"Nope." Hoffmann shook his head. "Asked for you, and you only. Besides the police I mean."
"Okay. Here we go then."
Lifting his ID cars once more, Doctor Wright again ran it through a cars reader placed by the door to the counselling room, the magnetic strip instantly unlocking the door as he stepped inside, Doctor Hoffmann entering the observation room next door. Stepping into the sterile room, Doctor Wright looked into the mirrored wall to his left before turning and greeting the woman sat at the cold, plastic table. Attractive and small in height, the blonde haired woman before him lifted her tired face, an anxiety etched across every pore as she allowed herself the tiniest of smiles and sat back.
"It's about time." She snapped.
"Karen, please..." Doctor Wright started, cut short as the woman interjected.
"Don't 'Karen' me, either." She spat. "We've known each other too long doctor."
"Look..." He tried again, gently pulling a chair from beneath the table and slowly sitting opposite. "Karen... What's wrong? From what I hear you've been giving my team quite the workout."
"Their fault, not mine." She shook her head, the expression on her face indicating her lack of interest. "If they did as I asked..."
"And what if they did as everybody asked?" Doctor Wright's turn to interrupt. "Hmm? You need to understand that these people are here for you, but they do not work for you Karen. They will act in your best interests. Always. Whether you think that's the case or not."
"Bullshit." She leaned forward, elbows on the surface of the flimsy plastic table.
"What's this all about Karen?" He asked, calmly sitting back and removing his spectacles, reaching into the inside pocket of his tweed jacket and withdrawing a soft cloth, beginning to clean the spectacles as he prepared to hear her out.
"Did you contact the police?" Karen's eyes grew as she asked, her body tensing as she leaned forward a touch more. "That was what I asked you to do. All I asked you to do. Did you do it?"
"Karen..."
Her ears pricked up in anticipation.
"The police have more important things to deal with. Believe it or not, there is a world outside of these four walls."
"Fuck!" She hissed, throwing herself backwards in her chair, her head arched back as she examined the suspended ceiling of Counselling Room A.
"I'm going to speak frankly, if I may Karen." Doctor Wright returned the cloth to his jacket pocket and replaced the spectacles along the bridge of his nose. "I went out on a limb to have you transferred over here. Do you know how many people I had to convince that you were ready to be considered for this facility?"
"I know..." Karen sighed, still surveying the ceiling.
"Then there are the visits." Wright proceeded as he gently leaned forward, hands together, fingers entwined as he rested on the table. "We moved you closer to your son, closer to your friends, and this is what we get? If the governors get wind of tonight, they'll not only insist on sending you back to Green Acre, but they'll also begin to question my judgment, my professional opinion as it were, and I simply won't have that."
"I'm grateful." She answered, an intensity in her voice. "Seriously I am."
"I should think so." Doctor Wright nodded. "When did you enter the system? 1990? It's been hard for you, I know that. First they take your son, your life, then they ship you off to Rhode Island. That was basically solitary confinement. I understand you finally managed to see your son last week. How long had it been?"
"Six years." Karen answered. "But don't you see? This is why I need you to call the police. What he told me. I need to speak to them. He begged me not to but I must!"
"You mean about the doll?" Wright asked. "The doll that allegedly came after your son? Not just once but twice?"
"Yes." She answered, composing herself as she began to sense the doctor's disbelief.
"The doll that is still apparently sat in a factory in downtown Chicago?" Wright grabbed Karen's file and began to browse.
"Yes!"
"The doll that you and your son still, to this day, claim was possessed by the soul of notorious serial killer Charles Lee Ray?" The doctor rubbed his eyes, despair as he found the conversation beginning to take a sudden and all too familiar turn.
"Yes." Karen again answered, continuing before she could be interrupted. "This is why we need the police. They need to go down there, check the place out. It's a long shot, but from what Andy told me there's a chance the doll is still there, that it's not dead. Don't you see?"
"I think so." Doctor Wright flicked through the file, eyes narrowing as he peered through his bifocals and lifted a page, reading from it as he read. "The doll can only be killed by destroying the heart. That's what you mean right?"
"Yes." Karen answered. "Now can you please call them? I know you think I'm crazy, but please."
"Let's imagine I do." He dropped the paper and leaned back in his chair, stretching as he did so. "I tell them to check out a factory, long since closed, and investigate the remains of a killer doll that is still possibly trapped in there, alive and breathing. What do you imagine their response will be?"
"I..." Karen stuttered. "I don't know..."
"They'd laugh at us Karen." Doctor Wright sat forward, hands together. "Even if we managed to persuade them, they'd then have to obtain a search warrant. To do that I imagine they'd need to have good reason. Now do you seriously think they'd have sufficient reason to apply for a warrant? What would they have? Other than the word of somebody currently residing in a mental facility."
"There's not just me." Karen angrily snarled back. "What about Mike?"
"Ah yes. Mike Norris." Doctor Wright ran his eyes over the file once again. "A discredited, former police officer. If you ask me, Mr Norris is incredibly fortunate not to be residing here alongside you."
Giving a long, drawn out sigh, Karen's voice dropped to a quiet murmur as she spoke.
"I understand." She nodded, a tear rolling over her cheek. "It sounds ridiculous. I wouldn't believe me either. But if what my son told me is indeed correct, then that doll is still in that factory and it needs destroying."
"Karen..." Doctor Wright started, his voice disappearing as Karen spoke over him.
"Because if the wrong person gets their hands on that thing, then we have it all over again."
"Karen, I understand, believe me." The doctor sympathized, palms flat on the table as he spoke slowly and clearly. "I'm sure this all seems incredibly real. To you... But Charles Lee Ray is dead. He has been since 1988."
"REAL?" Karen shot to her feet, the chair beneath her now skidding out and back across the floor, clattering into the wall behind as she slammed her palms on the surface of the table and leaned across to her visitor, her voice no more than a whisper, a hiss tinged with all manner of emotions.
"Let me tell you something, you son of a bitch! I'm pretty sure this would seem pretty fucking real to you too. If you'd seen the things I'd seen, heard the things I'd heard, the words that... That thing spouted. The evil in its words. It still gives me nightmares to this very day."
"And what does the doll say Karen?" Doctor Wright asked, leaning in, their noses almost touching as Karen's lip began to tremble, her voice breaking as she sank to the floor and sobbed, the words almost incoherent.
"It said..." Karen wept, taking a deep breath before mustering the courage to continue.
"It said 'give me the boy and I'll let you live'!"