fabian cortez’s

TORMENT3

Part 1

Escape

Chapter 5 - Recognition

Do you believe in me?

I believe in you

You will believe in

Me, when you see

What I can do

I’ll take away your pain

Carve your name with

Pride

I’ll do it as you bleed

There’s no place

You can hide…

Anon 2006

“Hello, yes, no, no, I want to remain anonymous. Please listen, I have to report a murder. No I didn’t know the victim? Yes, that’s right. It was a young man in his room at Rona’s Rest Spot Motel. His name; it’s Tom Jackson. No, that’s all I know. That’s no problem. Okay, no of course, I won’t approach him. How do I know about this? Well, I was there at the time. My name, well I just told you I want to remain anonymous. Alright then my name is….”

04.00 Rona’s Rest-Spot Motel

He flicked the last burning nub of his Lucky Strike cigarette into Tom’s room now doused in gasoline and ran gently to the car. He’d considered waiting, taking the body with them and disposing of it elsewhere; but in the end tried and trusted would do. Kim had come through well, on the task at hand. Carving Tom up and filling him up with gas had been no problem for her. She’d seemed distracted, her mind elsewhere full of trepidation, yet it was all gone now. She was confident in her demeanour to an almost disturbing degree. Still, that didn’t matter to him. His cigarette set the blaze going and they drove away.

Tom’s horrified look stuck in his mind, his disgust at himself and why he was there with him made no sense. This would not happen again, he’d been innocent, his only crime was being with Peter, being close to him and allowing himself to be vulnerable. He’d been fighting for years for decent people. Tom had been one of them; now he was dead because Peter couldn’t face himself and his own demons. He told himself he’d been seduced, that this man had somehow undermined his strength of will, that he’d been taken in skilfully by a manipulative cunt, who deserved what happened. He remembered his last words.

“Tom, you’re a manipulator, and I can’t let you do this to someone else, Tom looked confused, but didn’t get a chance to answer. Peter screamed his name and plunged the knife into his stomach, hacking around in the process. He had to ensure all of Tom’s internal organs were cut to ribbons, and end it quickly. He stabbed again and again unable to stop himself. He was desperately trying to remove the image in his mind of being with Tom; of being vulnerable with him. He’d let this man in, someone who didn’t know him, couldn’t know him; and if he had, he’d have looked on him with disgust and fear. “Better to end it now, better he doesn’t linger on it afterward.” He’d said quietly to himself, trying to reason out his actions. He, without doubt would become one of the fucked up of the world because of the knowledge, because of Peter.

No matter how he hacked away at the body, the image remained. It had taken Kim to cut Tom’s lifeless face up; She felt more than willing to do so now, as Peter had trusted her enough to explain what had happened. This had made her to some degree whole again because of it. Most of her fears were allayed, and although she knew he hadn’t told her everything, she found herself trusting him again.

Now she was where she wanted to be; involved every step of the way. She’d wrenched each of Tom’s teeth out with pliers first, then battered his features with a hammer, until they were nothing but an unrecognisable mess of sticky mashed up flesh and bone, finally ripping open his skull with its claw side. She’d felt it all necessary, so as to ensure that he was completely unrecognisable.

This would buy them more time, and aside from anything else she felt invigorated & vital as she mutilated him. It was like a drug to her and she found herself loving it, feeling sexually charged, even turned on to the point that she could have fucked Peter there and then in the room with Tom’s corpse laying as an audience on the bed. All sympathy she’d felt for Tom, as someone who didn’t deserve to die had disappeared.

Peter’s thoughts moved on to what really bothered him; what bothered him underneath; what truly disgusted him; and that was, that they’d been sexually involved. Why had he been attracted to him? How could he dare touch him intimately like that, take him in his mouth, allow him to ejaculate on him. He was repulsed at the thought.

“Mother, your Mother; It’s because of her,” rang through his mind.

Then he knew, it was her bisexuality; her whoring around in front of him as a boy. That is what had affected him so badly. This would not happen again. There was no way he would allow this to happen again!

Yet, none of his newfound knowledge could justify the actions with the facts; he knew that. He’d explained as much as he could within reason to Kim as they’d completed the job. Then as they drove away he’d even gone so far as to say “I love you Kim Ryan,” as the words flowed from his mouth he was taken aback, because he found himself to some degree meaning what he said.

Kim turned to look at him and could see the sincerity in his eyes, felt that his words might actually be heartfelt, and warmed to him. She took his hand gently for a moment and replied. “I love you too Peter; always.”

As they drove on up the road a short distance from the motel, a parade of fire engines and police cars passed by them, obviously rushing to the scene. Shortly after, an explosion could be heard coming from the same direction. As Peter had already arranged during Kim’s maniacal rampage on Tom’s body, what was left of Tom’s remains had now been obliterated.

On Route to Rona’s Rest-Spot Motel 04:10

She saw it in her rear-view mirror and thought nothing of it at first. After all there were so many blue cars on the road, what might make this one any different. Then that same feeling crept over her again, and Lynda Rodgers knew in her core that it was the same one that had been driving by, shortly before Jed was killed.

Tom Jackson’s room exploded into a fireball just before she arrived at the scene, and her suspicions were confirmed. She turned her car immediately around, causing all the traffic behind her to come to a screeching halt “Jesus that was fucking dangerous” she shouted to herself; thanking God almighty that there hadn’t been a pile up. She sped down the road in the direction she had seen the blue go; feeling that instinct would point her in the direction of the right vehicle. But as she drove along it was nowhere to be seen. It was almost as if it had never been there to begin with.