Bloodshed - A Dark Star Tale Pt. 03

Chapter Ten - Executing Decisions

Will Marchant sat down behind his desk, the door leading out to the admin office sat wide open as his Laptop dragged through a forced programme and software update. The scroll bar on his screen seemed to have sat at 57% for an eternity.

Not that he was in any rush. He and Kelly had passed up the opportunity of breakfast with Marco and Ari, legitimately not needing to make excuses as they had to relieve Joanne Pinnock who'd had looked after the girls overnight. Lexi and Tilly had been delighted that 'Jo-Jo' as they both affectionately referred to her had been staying the night for a sleepover. On arriving home, risking her irk, Will had informed Kelly that she'd need to take the girls to the weekly Saturday morning double session of ballet and then modern dance. She hadn't exactly been enthused, he didn't particularly care. He had no sympathy for herself induced sore head, she should have taken it easier and then she would also have made less of a fool of herself in the process.

Will popped two ibuprofens for himself from the silver strip that sat amongst a small ornate bowl that contained a plethora of unnecessary but equal important little items. Loose change, a couple of drawing pins sat with their pins predominantly facing up offering a challenge of sorts to retrieving anything from the dish, a ticket stub from corporate hospitality he'd received when attending an England game at Wembley with a supplier, 2 paper clips and a near empty pack of chewing gum. He knocked back the ibuprofen with a large swig of the now tepid coffee he'd made for himself on arrival. His head aching a little from the previous night's excess and the lack of sleep he'd managed. His sleep being disturbed for a number of reasons. Casting his eye at his screen the scroll bar now sat at 63%.

Distractedly looking back out across admin office, in particular at the desk that faced his door. Somewhere he imagined Flick Bowerman in a panic, her sixth sense dialled up with the realisation that Will was in the office and she wasn't there to assist him or offer her advice. What if he needed to change the toner in the Copier, what if he needed to change a font on a document, was he really safe using the kettle unsupervised; sometimes he felt she had him marked down as an incompetent fool. Flick was Flick though and it genuinely felt a little bit strange to look out towards the desk and not see her infectious smile greet him. He wondered what she found herself doing on this late August morning. Realising he had very little idea what she got up to when her time was her own. This wasn't exclusive to Flick, she was much like everyone else he employed in that respect; he felt he knew them but although he could spend as much time in their company as he did, sometimes time that might constitute more hours in a day than they actually spent with friends and family, he knew very little about any of employees beyond the superficial. Grabbing his phone, he took a quick photo through the door out across the empty office. It felt somewhat liberating to be the only car in the car park, the only person on site, given even the Factory side of the site had been sent out on a Saturday morning hiatus several months ago now to reduce costs, predominantly those of the spiralling wage bill.

Attaching the photo to a WhatsApp message he typed out the words "Miss You" adding to avoid any ambiguity a little yellow emoji of a smiling face with two little tears, which he believed or at least thought represented the sentiment of laugh out loud. He fired the message over to Flick.

The scroll bar had jumped promisingly to 81%

Within moments Will heard the ping of a returned WhatsApp message on his phone. He'd not even had a chance to set it down. He could read the message content on the front screen, but he would need to open it to see the attached image which he couldn't discern in the tiny thumbnail embedded in the message alert.

Sender; Flick: Sorry I'm not missing you ... I have company...

Opening the message, the image filled his screen now, most of the image dedicated to a smoky grey cat stretched out, as only a cat could, across Flick's chest and stomach. The selfie photo of sorts had been taken at an odd angle while her face and neck we're missing Will couldn't help but have his eye drawn to the brief glimpse offered of tops of her pale thighs, which sat beneath the hem of a peach-coloured T-Shirt as she seemingly lay across her bed or her sofa. He resisted the urge to pinch and zoom the image to take a closer look.

Will closed the message, the scroll bar might as well have told him to fuck off having slowed now again at 89%. Phone still in hand he opened the app he'd only installed as recently as last night, while suffering from his induced insomnia. An App he'd Installed on both his and his wife's phone as she'd slept heavily alongside of him. He felt immoral he felt wrong doing so especially hiding the App from the front screen of her phone. Although to his personal credit he'd held off the urge to snoop through all of Kelly's personal messages, emails and photos while he had hold of the phone. To prevent such possibilities, she really should use a different passcode than 2305, Lexis birthday and month. Will pressed his thumb against the 'Loc8' app and it opened a map, immediately bringing up the little green dot that represented himself and accurately showing him his location to be exactly where Marchant's were located on the map. At the bottom of the map, he opened the 'Friends List' function. A scroll bar of one, Kelly, he tapped a thumb on her name and the map zoomed out, before slowly zooming back in, he recognised her location straight away. The Starbucks in the small retail site on the opposite side of the road from where the girls dance classes were held. Confident the technology worked Will closed the App. He'd felt bad but since the brief conversation he'd had with Ari the night previous he couldn't park the suspicion and the doubt she had placed in his mind. He'd seen the way Kelly had behaved around Marco, recalled that brief inconspicuous enough exchange of glances the two of them had shared in this very office. He consoled himself that as much as he trusted his Wife maybe Ari's warning should be heeded, more so because he already knew that he couldn't trust Marco, around anything, let alone around his Wife.

The scroll bar reached, 96 then 97% before the screen went black. A brief moment of panic before Will heard the reboot and his laptop begin to restart in the final stages of the hopefully completed update.

Once again Will's mind dwelt on the other aspects of the same snatched conversation held with Ari but concentrated on platinum blonde not her sleazy husband. Even on their departure from the 12-bed countryside sprawling property this morning he'd found her difficult to gage. She wasn't stand offish per say but it seemed that Will and Kelly had outstayed their welcome even having courteously declined her offer of breakfast. Dressed in a very casual pair of navy Adidas leggings, the three stripes down the sides which seemed to emphasise her natural physique, coupled with a slightly oversized white hooded sweatshirt. Will hadn't been sure if it was gym wear or just casual attire. She reminded him a little of the early morning runner, if he substituted platinum blonde for auburn hair amongst other features, actually of the two girls Ari was far more attractive he contemplated.

"Five Thousand Pounds"

Three words echoed around his mind as he watched the image of him Kelly and the girls in Greece last year appear as his screensaver and he typed in his password when prompted.

"Five Thousand Pounds" he said quietly to himself.

The figure she offered him as 'her price'. Her price for what he could only imagine, what only scarcely begin to imagine possible or fantasise about. Five thousand pounds presented near enough a sixfold increase on the price he'd paid for the escort services of Cheri Hernandez who he'd fucked, in what he now considered a moment of weakness, in this very office a matter of weeks ago. He couldn't financially or morally have justified making the number of bookings he could make with Cheri or one of the other girls listed at 'Elite. The very fact he pondered the proposal, dwelt on the immoral, dangerous suggestion spoke volumes. Something about her, her persona, her perfect physical features.

His phone still in his hand Will accesses his Address book, the seventh number on his phone by alphabetical listing. The number she'd entered into his phone directly herself.

Will acted on impulse, acted without considering the wider impacts, decisively he acted.

Against a text message associated to her number he typed.

Sender; Will iPhone: Your Offer... Five Thousand... Deal

Pausing only a fraction of a second Will stabbed his finger purposefully against the send button.

Financing the arrangement wouldn't be a problem, only three days earlier Marco Mancini had given him details to access a private account into which had sat the fifty thousand pounds that had been promised to appease Will in order to address the escalation in levels of narcotics being distributed via Marchant's fleet of vehicles, Class A drugs packed up alongside of Marchant's traditional and legitimate operations. Astutely and selflessly, Will had used a chunk of the money to pay off in full the two joint credit cards held in his and Kelly's name. Alongside of a Holiday between now and Christmas he had promised himself a perk, a treat, he didn't need a new car, he'd considered a new watch, to refresh his suits, but at this moment in time he could think of no better way to spend five of the remaining twenty-eight thousand pounds than buying Marco Mancini's delightful looking fiancée and discovering every inch of her perfect body. It was the kind of trick he wouldn't put beyond the Italian himself.

His email opened up before him automatically, he scanned his eyes quickly over the full page of new emails discerning importance by sender alone. Noting the email containing the updated forecast from Maya amongst the sea of red. He needed to check the figures she'd provided, hoping for accuracy from her this time around.

His phone vibrated twice consecutively as well as two discernibly different audible tones in confirmation of messages received. Immediately distracted he picked up the phone again. One text message from Ari one WhatsApp message from Flick

Ari's response, he opened first, three single words to almost mirror his blunt short message.

Sender; Ari: The Dark Star Tonight 10pm

Will took a breath of contemplation not expecting her to respond so quickly or to offer such a pressing timescale.

From Flicks message, despite it being the weekend, he knew he'd triggered her.

Sender; Flick: What are you doing there on a Saturday ...Anything I can help with?

Will smirked, quickly sending his reply.

Sender; Will iPhone: Just a little unfinished business that couldn't wait.

**********

Maya Cruz grimaced holding back the tears that threatened her fragile mental resolve.

Her body felt numb and cold, so unbelievably cold. Her cold naked body was weak, so physically inexplicably weak, she couldn't concentrate her brain so confused as she was as she lay in a near catatonic state.

She grimaced again, as with her head propped up somehow, she frantically willed her body to move, desperately attempting to shift her arms and legs just a fraction as they lay stretched out before her across the stainless-steel slab which she was strapped down to. Even without the thick black leather straps that held her wrists thighs and ankles, she realised she wouldn't have been able to move. She couldn't comprehend her predicament; couldn't understand why she physically couldn't move her body. She held off the tears of worry and of frustration that threatened to spill.

The only explanation she could reason with and muster was that the physicality immobility was as result of whatever had been repeatedly injected into neck, sides and thighs, with the constantly recycled dirty looking syringe. The needle regularly injected at intervals since she'd been dragged to the confines of the narrow stainless steel lined room.

Hours of prolonged mental anguish having been removed of the plastic film she'd been trapped and hung in solitude in with only her fear for company. Mercifully, if she could feel gratitude, she no could longer feel the lancing pain from the wounds to her both of her shoulders.

Her dark skin seemed pale under the strip light set in the high stainless-steel ceiling.

From behind her she heard a door unlock and slowly creak open.

"Wh...What do you want from me?" Maya uttered pleading before her assailant even came into sight.

She assumed it would be a him, she assumed the figure clad in white was a male, just by stature and physical ability alone. The same figure clad in the protective coveralls that all Marchant's Processing employees wore for health and safety rather than any corporate identity. A rubber gloved hand slid under her jaw as she was approached from behind.

"Please oh dear lord please ...I'll do anything ...My Mother ... My Mother she needs..." her words lost as a filthy brown rag was forced deep into her mouth. The gag tasted putrid causing her to dry heave immediately. All the while she fought to break the inexplicable paralysis of her body. The thoughts of her mother only brought fresh tears to her eyes. She wouldn't understand Maya's unexplained absence, she would be concerned, she would be in need of her medication.

Focus shifted, as her eyes watched the white clad figure move to stand alongside her right-hand side. She begged and pleaded with fresh impetus into the gag as the gloved hand slid firmly over her stomach. She could see what played out, but not feel it. Was this sexual? Was this some kind of perversion? She suppressed the sickening thoughts that ran through her mind.

Her body held down legs wide apart under her paralysis. At this moment in time, she was powerless to prevent whatever sick perverted fantasy she would be made to endure. Maya urged her body to respond to her will.

Maya's body failed to respond.

She noted the light blue rubber gloves to the elbow of each arm, a new addition to the outfit that completely obscured his features. Still, she pleaded into the fowl tasting gag as the hand left her numb body.

Mayas eyes filled with panic as she saw him take a long wide cleaver from under the slab on which her body was held down to. She watched with fear as the tip of the cleaver was raised over her chest between her breasts. Maya hollered into the gag, but not in any pain as the clever was plunged swiftly down stabbing the tip of the blade deep into her chest, immediately drawing a puddle of blood to the surface of her skin as she heard her rib cage shatter.

Desperately she urged her body to respond now to the situation she faced but her mind and her body continued somehow to be unable to communicate. Breathlessly she hollered out again and again, her screams muffled, as with his left hand pressing back down on her chest his right hand dragged the cleaver down through the centre of her body with ease, splitting a wide chasm from her chest to her waist. Thick dark scarlet blood poured from the open wound running down the sides of her body.

Breathing frantically, unable to concentrate on screaming for the horror that she witnessed. Whimpers finally took over accompanied by heavy sobbing as Maya kept frantically urging her useless unresponsive body into action.

Why couldn't she feel this?

Was the pain that intense her mind had shut down on the agony that should rack her body?

She heard the cleaver set down on the stainless-steel surface next to her.

The right rubber gloved hand procured and clutched a smaller thinner scalpel like knife now.

Maya's vision blurred by tears and the waves of nausea which seemed to strangle the air in her throat.

She watched not wishing to believe, she heard the sickening wet sounds as his hands plunged into the open wound in her stomach.

Maya witnessed him pull the thick coil of her own bloodied intestines through the slit he'd carved in her body. Retching hard she felt her throat and her mouth fill with a metallic tasting liquid that she realised to be her own blood.

The gloved hands hacked the sharp blade of the scalpel, inside of her.

Maya Cruz was barely alive when her liver was cut from her. The last rasping restricted breath she took was prior to her left kidney being removed.

Her lifeless eyes remained open looking down across her body.

Her heart had long stopped beating when it was hacked from her chest.

The rubber gloved hand set her heart down next to her lifeless body in a neat short line alongside of her liver and kidneys.

The rubber gloved hands coated almost to the elbow in Maya Cruz's blood wiped across the front of the pristine white thick cotton jacket before prising the gag freshly stained with Maya's blood from out of her mouth.

The gag unfurled a little as it passed between her soft full lips which had slowly started to turn blue.

**********

Stood at the far end of a the already heaving bar of the Dark Star Will Marchant tentatively sipped the Jack Daniels and Coke that the long-haired blonde barmaid had set before him moments earlier.

He calmed himself, took a deep breath into his lungs, almost tasting a deep breath of the warm thick air around him.

Looking around the Club which he'd arrived at twenty-five minutes earlier than had been proposed. The place was packed already even at just gone half past nine. Loud dance music invaded his senses, all around him patrons laughed and joked all enjoying the associated trappings of for them a no doubt familiar Saturday night experience.

Eyes drawn elsewhere he never saw the thick set doorman pick his way through the mass of bodies. As his wide paw like hand tapped him albeit gently on the shoulder he near jumped.

"She'll be with you shortly," the doorman gruffly offered over the noise of the club.

"Thanks," Will managed to compose himself enough to say in response as without further engagement the doorman stepped away, in no time he was lost from sight amongst the revellers stood three to four deep all around the bar area.

Will took a long swig from the strong double measure bourbon in a vain attempt to composure himself.

Patiently waiting.

**********

Flick Bowerman cautiously opened the door to her small little flat on the sixth floor of the high-rise tower block that overlooked the grim vista of the Hillcliffe Estate. Technically her flat didn't fall within the boundaries of the estate. It was close enough to the deprived area though to benefit from low affordable rent as well as a high proportion of overspill crime.

In the background the TV she'd muted to answer the door flickered away, a film she'd seen a dozen times before hand.

His silhouette filled the doorway against the twilight that fast turned to the dark of night, she recognised his physique, and she swung the door open a little further.

"Hey," she meekly offered, "I wasn't expecting to see you this evening."

"Was drinking at the Highwayman I had a deposit to make ...so I thought while I was in the neighbourhood."

"Well, um sure..." she pushed her unbrushed hair from her face behind her left ear, suddenly conscious of the rather scruffy appearance she'd been sporting all day, a long-oversized peach coloured tee with a pair of black leggings she'd only donned later in the day. "What a pleasant little surprise".

As he leant forward and kissed her, she accepted the kiss but could taste the excess of ale and stale cigarettes on him.