Short Story 2

Six years. Ellen shuddered. Six years she had lived below the blood and gore; beneath the pain and the horror that came from the sick and twisted mind of Thomas Brandy.

The same Thomas Brandy she had greeted every few days when they left the apartment block at the same time. The same Thomas Brandy who had, a few times, sat out on her porch with her for a smoke. The same Thomas Brandy that she had left alone in her apartment for less than a ten minutes, to watch her baby, while she ran garbage to the garbage chute down the hall.

Another shiver ran down her spine and she felt sick.

It could have been her. Any of those mutilated bodies found up in his apartment could have been her.

Breathing deeply, she tried to calm herself as she reached for another roll of packing tape, to seal the last couple of boxes.  Her apartment was almost completely bare now, minus the bed and table.

The truck would be here in the morning. She glanced over to Teal, sleeping in an open suitcase. Teal was just short of twenty-four months old; the only lasting reminder Ellen had of her late husband.

She stood up slowly, her hand brushing the newspaper that still lay on the table from a couple of days ago. She flicked her eyes over the front page and the headline still made her jumpy and nervous. "Twenty Nine Mutilated Corpses Found In Mans Apartment”.

She glanced at the ceiling. She had been assured by police that the room above her was in the process of being sterilised; but somehow, she still expected blood to drip from her ceiling like a bad horror movie.

Teal whimpered in her sleep, then began the crying of an infant that had no other way of communication.

“mummy, mummy,” she began to cry. Ellen dragged her eyes away from the ceiling and walked over to her.

“There, there,” She comforted her, holding her on her shoulder as she paced the room.

The night wore on.

The sun streamed through the window, throwing beams of light around the room. Ellen rolled over and rubbed her eyes. She had slept in her clothes last night, forgetting to leave out pyjamas before sealing all the packing boxes. Teal was still sleeping soundly in the small suitcase that Ellen had set on the floor for her.

She dragged herself out of bed and walked over to the window, taking one last look at the city below.

She used to think it was so fantastic to live in the big city. But now, as she looked below, sure, she still saw the clean, glinting windows of the thousands of high-rises that led into the horizon, and the fluorescent signs that decorated the sides of buildings and the streets below, which, even though it was still quite early in the morning, were bustling with life and excitement.

But now Ellen could also see the underdog of murder and crime which lay below.

Her phone rang. She flipped it open and put it to her ear.

“Ellen…”  The voice purred into her ear like molten lead.

“Ellen…. How are you?” She didn’t reply, trying to place the voice.  “As you may have noticed,” the voice continued, “I have been away for most of this last week for business matters. Needless to say, I will, of course, be returning. Would you be interested in joining me for some tea upon my arrival home?”

Ellen sat down on the edge of the bed, “I’m sorry sir,” she began, “but I cant recognise your voice. The phone line here’s awful bad. Who are you?”

She heard the man on the other end chuckle.

“Why, Ellen. It’s me. Thomas.”

Her heart hammered in her chest and her palms began to sweat, her fingers shook as she held the phone to her ear.

“Thomas. I’m sorry but I don’t know a Thomas. You must have the wrong number; if you-” She was cut short by his voice. His tone had changed to a more serious one, “Ellen. How rude of you to forget our friendship. I’ll have to help you to remember. I should be returning home shortly, I’ll drop by when I get in, shall I? Wonderfull. Thankyou for your time, Ellen.”

He hung up. Ellen held the phone up to her ear for some moments after that, wondering how and why he was calling her. The papers had reported that he had been sent to jail.

She took a deep breath and got to work.

She picked up Teal, still sleeping, and placed her in the only open box left, a box of clothes. Picking up the roll of packing tape, she bend down and kissed Teal on the cheek.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” she whispered to her, as she drew the flaps of the box closed and taped the top lightly shut. She crossed her fingers, “please don’t cry,” she prayed to Teal.

Ellen heard a knock at the door, less than ten minutes later. She began to shake.

Thomas knocked again. “Anyone home?” he called out, his voice echoing down the hall. “Hello, Ellen? I-”

Ellen swung the door open and plastered a fake smile on her face. “Thomas Brandy. What brings you here?”

He smiled in return and walked into the apartment. His eyes swept over the stack of boxes in the corner. “I see you are moving out.” He stated. “Something not to your liking?”

Ellen turned to him, “Thomas, why are you here? He grinned at her. This was not quite like the smile he had shown at the door. This was cunning and evil and glinting with anger.

“You know me well, Ellen.” He looked her straight in the eye. “Too well. You see, I killed twenty-eight people in the apartment above yours. You know that now. But you also know my name, where I work, and what I look like.” She blinked.

He leaned in closer to her and she could feel his breath washing over her in rancid waves. “You’re a threat, Ellen. And I cant have that, now, can I?”

As she realised what he meant, he took her by the arm and threw her against the wall. The slam took the breath out of her, and she doubled over as his fist went straight into her face. Again. And again. She fell to the floor in agony, blood gushing from her lacerated face.

Suddenly Teal screamed. Thomas let go of her arm for half of a second as he turned toward the noise; but that was all she needed. Ellen dragged herself up and ran out of the room, praying he would follow her and not search for Teal.

He ran after her. Hiding behind the corner, she waited until he ran past her, down the hall, before swinging round the corner back into her room, slamming and locking the door.

His screams punctuated the silence. “ELLEN! I WILL KILL YOU ELLEN, DON’T THINK I WONT.” She was sobbing behind the door, “No,” she cried, “no you wont. Leave us alone,”

“I WILL BE BACK HERE IN TEN MINUTES WITH AN AXE AND I WILL CHOP THIS DOOR DOWN. DO YOU UNDERSTAND, ELLEN? I WILL GET YOU! I WILL GET YOU ELLEN! I WILL GET YOU!”

His voice faded out as he descended the stairs and Ellen knew she didn’t have much time. She couldn’t take Teal and leave the apartment, he may just as well be waiting below for them.

She grabbed her phone and called the police.

Ellen and Teal had hidden in the bathroom, terrified. Ellen had her handgun beside her. A shiny little colt she had been given for when she went hunting with her father, many years ago. She looked away from it.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. The knocking became more frantic until there was an almighty crash. Ellen was confused for a minute until she heard footsteps over the tile in the front room. Thomas had broken the door down.

“Ellen!” He yelled, and Ellen heard footsteps walk quickly towards the bathroom. Teal opened her mouth to cry.

She would not let Teal get destroyed by Thomas Brandy. She could not. The idea of him skinning her alive, like he did with one of his victims, or cutting off her fingers and toes one by one, then bits of her limbs, bit by bit, until she finally died of blood loss like another one of his victims, the idea of that horrified her. Her little baby could not suffer like that.

The bathroom doorhandle began to turn. In tears, Ellen picked up the colt and held it to Teals’ head for a second before she pulled the trigger.

The wall in front of her was suddenly painted in a deep crimson, the small hole in the forehead of her child turned blue then began pouring blood onto the floor.

She raised the gun to her head, screwed her eyes shut and pulled the trigger as the door opened.

The man that entered the room in was a police officer.