Copyright © 2023

by MATT SHAW and MICHAEL BRAY

Matt Shaw Publications

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

The characters in this book are purely fictitious.

Any likeness to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

www.mattshawpublications.co.uk

U-TURNS SERIES

Book One: The Girl in the Cellar

Written by Matt Shaw and Aron Beauregard

U-TURNS

INNOCENCE

MICHAEL BRAY

&

MATT SHAW

PART ONE

By Michael Bray

THE BULLY

Jake had never been a brave kid. He had managed to get through almost his entire school career keeping under the radar, doing just enough to get by without drifting into any of the cliques or groups. It was the last day of term before summer break, which meant six weeks of sun and no lessons. He had always kept out of trouble and would have done so on that day too if he had only been a few minutes later or earlier. If that had been the case, he would never have seen Steve Hibbert picking on the new kid. For a second, Jake considered ignoring it. Neither of them had seen him and it would have been easy to just skirt around them and make his way home, ready to kick his summer into action. Even as the idea entered his head, he knew that wasn’t an option. His father didn’t live at home anymore, but he had always told him that bullies were never to be tolerated and that he should stand against them. He looked at the new kid, his chubby face red, eyes filled with fear. His shirt had come untucked exposing his soft belly. Hibbert, a nasty piece of shit with no prospects who was just drifting through his school life, had hold of him by the tie, acne-ravaged lips twisted into a sneer. True as it was that Jake didn’t know the new kid and had never spoken to him, he also knew he couldn’t just leave things the way they were. It would ruin his summer because he knew he would dwell on it If he did nothing. Decision made; he approached the scuffle.

He could smell Hibbert first. The adolescent sweat was pouring off him in droves. The new kid – Jake was sure he was called Martin something or other – was whimpering, too afraid to say anything.

‘Hey, leave him alone, Hibbert.’ Jake said.

‘Get out of here, Jake. This is between me and fatty here.’

‘Come on. It’s the last day. You don’t need to do this.’

‘The fat fuck has something I want, and he won’t give it to me.’

This wasn’t his fight and although he was more than happy to take Hibbert on and was confident he could beat him; he would rather avoid the fight if possible. ‘Let him go.’

‘This isn’t your fucking problem.’

‘I’m making it my problem. Back off.’

Hibbert didn’t seem quite so confident at his chances in a conflict with Jake and let go of Martin. He glared; a sweaty rat not used to being told no.  ‘Can’t be bothered anyway. I’ll leave you faggots to it.’

With his final insult said, Hibbert walked away, pausing to glare over his shoulder a few times before disappearing around the corner.  Jake turned to the new kid, who was straightening his shirt. ‘You okay?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for the help. I thought he was going to hit me.’

‘Hibbert’s a dick. Best to avoid him if you can.’

‘Not so easy in a place like this being the new kid.’

‘Point taken. Hey, you walk home the same way I do, don’t you?’

‘Yeah, I think so. We’re in the same group for English last lesson on Thursdays.’

‘Yeah, I thought so. Come on, I’ll walk with you just in case Hibbert is waiting for you somewhere. I doubt it but you never know.’

‘Thanks, I appreciate it.’

The two of them walked out of the schoolyard. They did see a scattering of other students hanging around but no sign of Hibbert for which they were both grateful. The silence was awkward, the way it was when two people didn’t know each other well enough for the conversation to flow easily. Jake decided to stick to the basics.

‘So, why did you move schools? Starting in the middle of the year seems pretty shitty.’

Martin glanced at him as they walked. ‘My parents divorced. I stayed with my mum and she wanted a fresh start somewhere. This is that somewhere.’

‘Sorry to hear that.’

They crossed the road and started to walk across the open field. Jake felt like he needed to keep the conversation flowing if only to put Martin at ease. ‘So, what made Hibbert get on your case?’

‘He wanted something of mine.’

‘Sounds about right. Good for you for not backing down.’

Martin glanced at Jake again. He was breathing heavily and a light sweat forming as they walked across the field. It was easy to see why Hibbert had targeted him for bullying. Weakness poured off him. It was impossible to miss.

‘It was a film.’ Martin said between deep breaths.

‘That’s what Hibbert was after?’

Martin nodded. ‘Yeah, something he’d heard about me having and he wanted it.’

‘Fuck him. Let him go buy it himself.’

‘Oh, it’s not something you can just buy in a shop. It’s rare. One of a kind, even.’

Jake glanced at him but said nothing. They had come to the short line of trees at the edge of the field and followed the dirt path into it, coming out on the other side onto another field, the white painted lines for the football pitch used by the school dull and faded. It was clear Martin wanted to talk, so Jake remained silent and let him.

‘See I’m a bit of a collector of rare films. The one’s most people never have watched or would never want to.’

‘What kind of films? Like pornos?’

‘No, not pornos,’ Martin said, forcing a smile. ‘Let’s say, horror.’

‘I like a good horror film. What’s so special about yours?’

Martin focused on breathing. They were nearing the road where they would head in different directions. Without warning, Martin stopped and shrugged his bag off his shoulder. Jake watched as he rummaged inside it. He retrieved a videotape in a black box. Jake had never seen one in the flesh. He was accustomed to digital streaming or DVD. Martin held out the box to him.

‘Here. Just watch it. I’m not supposed to let anyone have it but you helped me so… just watch it and give it back when you’re done.’

Jake took the box. Written on the side on a white label in black ink was a single word: SNUFF

‘A videotape? How am I even supposed to watch this? I only have a DVD player and X Box.’

Martin didn’t answer. He seemed agitated and his face was contorted into a half grimace. ‘You’ll figure something out. Just do me a favour and don’t tell anyone you’ve seen this or where you got it from. Also, keep it a secret. Watch it on your own.’

Jake looked at the tape. ‘What the hell is on this? Why the secrecy?’

‘Just watch it. If you like horror…you’ll enjoy it.’ Martin started to walk away, leaving Jake with the tape.

‘Wait, how do I get this back to you when I’m done?’

‘Find me on Facebook if you want to talk more about it. Remember, tell nobody.’

Martin walked away, not looking back. Jake watched him go, a little bemused by the whole situation. He looked at the tape again, then shoved it into his bag and started to walk in the opposite direction towards his house. It was the start of summer, and his focus was already on making the most of the next six weeks without school.  For two weeks, the tape remained untouched in Jake’s schoolbag, forgotten as he enjoyed the holidays. It was only later, after a message from Martin that the world he knew began to unravel, and for the first time, he would discover the true meaning of horror and the consequences that would come from watching one old VHS tape.

VHS

Martin: HAVE YOU WATCHED IT YET???

Jake stared at the message on his Facebook account. In that instant, the forgotten tape came back to him. He responded to the message saying he hadn’t yet watched the video.

Martin: WATCH IT. LET ME KNOW WHEN YOU HAVE.

Jake remembered Martin as being meek and timid. There was an almost demanding tone to this string of messages, however, which seemed a little out of character. He typed again, a little put out by the demanding nature of the messages.

Jake: I can’t. We don’t have a VCR. Nobody has a VCR anymore. How am I supposed to watch a Video Tape?

Martin: Find one and watch it then come back to me. I’m sending you a friend request. Make sure you accept it.

Jake stared at the screen, unsure if he was more confused or annoyed at the insistence of this kid he hardly knew.

Jake: I’ll do what I can. No promises.

Martin: If you don’t intend to watch it then you can just give it back. Decide now and let me know. This isn’t a game.

Jake hesitated. This was a different person from the one he had seen on the last day of term and if nothing else that alone had made him curious.

Jake: All right, take it easy. We might have an old machine in the attic or something. I’ll look into it.

Martin: Good. Let me know when you’ve seen it.

Jake was thinking of a suitable reply when he saw that Martin had gone offline. He stared at the screen for a few seconds, then at his schoolbag at the bottom of the bed. He went to it and took out the videotape.  It was his first time seeing an actual tape. In a world of digital streaming, he had little use for such bulky things. With curiosity taking hold with every passing second, he set the tape aside and went downstairs, where he found his mother watching her afternoon game shows.

‘Mum, do we have a video machine?’

She glanced at him, still mostly paying attention to Bargain Hunt on screen. ‘You mean like VHS?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Nobody has those anymore. Why would you want one of those?’

Jake had already thought of this and was more than ready with his answer. ‘School project about old forms of media. We were given it to do over the holidays.’

That was enough to garner her full attention. ‘And you’re not leaving it until the day before to scramble around and finish? I’m impressed.’

‘Very funny. Do we have one or not?’

‘I don’t know, there might be one up in the loft but it’s a mess up there.’

‘Is it all right if I go up and have a look?’

His mother glanced at the screen again, then at her son. ‘Well, I suppose so since it’s for school as long as you’re careful and don’t make a mess. I’m not even sure if there is a machine up there, but…yeah, go look if you like, just remember to be careful.’

MARTIN

Martin hadn’t seen it coming. He had been minding his own business, walking home from the shops. Had he not been listening to music on his phone, he might have heard Hibbert and his friends shouting at him from behind. He might also have answered so that, at worse, he might have received just a verbal dressing down. Instead, his not hearing them had been seen as disrespect, and they intended to make him pay for it. Even when they were close, the volume of the music blasting in his ears gave no warning. The first he knew was the punch that came from behind, hitting him hard in the ear, shocking him more than hurting him. The second one, however, did hurt. As did the others as Hibbert and his friends set to deliver a beating.

II

The loft was as haphazard and dusty as Jake had anticipated. He stood on the ladder, head up above the level of the hatch as he surveyed the landscape of boxes and other assorted crap that had been thrown up there for the lack of anywhere else to put it.  he could see the bottom of the Christmas tree poking out of the black bags it was wrapped in and a few old board games, their boxes mouldering as they festered in their long-forgotten tomb. No sign of the video machine though, which meant he would have to go up and poke around. He clambered into the musty space, dust swirling in the glow of the single lightbulb. He was about to give up when he saw it in the corner. Jake pulled out the heavy VCR, thinking it surely wouldn’t still operate after all this time. There were a couple of tapes in the box also, a sun-faded copy of a movie called Spaceballs, which looked to be some kind of Star Wars spoof. There were also some tapes with handwritten labels. One of them had his father’s writing on it, the words “World Cup final 96” scrawled in marker pen. Jake figured these would be good to test the machine before he put the tape he had borrowed into it and risk it being chewed up or damaged. Taking the entire box with him, he descended back down the ladder and took the whole thing to his bedroom.

III

It took a couple of days to get the machine up and running. He had to change the plug and then couldn’t figure out how to connect it to his HDTV. After a little bit of time searching on the Internet, he found a place where he could order the cables he needed to adapt the VHS to work with modern technology. By the time they arrived, he was quite excited about getting the machine up and running. With the proper tools, connecting the VCR to his television was fairly simple. He powered it up and was greeted by a blue screen with lines jittering at the top and bottom. He recalled there was a dial on the front of the machine named tracking, and he used it to adjust the picture until it was steady. He picked up the tape of his father’s, the one labelled World Cup and placed it into the machine, then pressed the play button on the front and waited to see if it would play the cassette or chew it up. The tape worked, although it didn’t contain the World Cup as advertised. It looked like it had been reused to record some cheap-looking Australian prison drama from TV. None of that mattered to him though, the main thing was the machine worked. He ejected the World Cup tape and went to his school bag and took out the cassette Martin had given him.  Jake realised then that he was nervous about viewing. He had been told to only watch the cassette when he was alone, with his father at work and his mother out shopping with a friend, now seemed like the perfect time. He placed the cassette into the machine, hesitating for just a second, before pushing play and waiting to see what would appear on-screen.

The tape faded in on a side shot of a skinny Hispanic man tied to a wooden chair with tape around his ankles and his wrists taped behind the backrest. Other than the blindfold, the man was naked. The quality of the image was poor and grainy, which somehow made it worse. Although he couldn’t understand what the man was saying, it was clear he was pleading for his life in Spanish. Jake realised quite quickly that this wasn’t a movie or film set. This was a real situation. As he watched, two masked men walked into the shot armed with hunting knives. The prisoner squirmed in the chair, sobbing. Jake didn’t need to know the language to understand he was begging for his life. The men let him beg. It was clear they were in no rush, and in a location where they knew they would not be disturbed. One of the two men, clad in a balaclava with a baseball cap over the top, turned to address the Camera and spoke in rapid Spanish. To Jake’s surprise, subtitles appeared on screen to translate the words of the masked man. It seemed he wanted everyone watching this tape to understand what was happening regardless of the language they spoke. As Jake read the subtitles, it transpired that the restrained man was a drug runner for a cartel called El Serpiente, and had been caught skimming profits from their cocaine smuggling operation. The masked man went on to explain how this was beyond unacceptable, and like any crime, there must be a suitable punishment. He then says that this tape should serve as a warning to anyone thinking of crossing them in the future.

Jake’s instinct screamed at him to switch it off and not watch anymore, yet he was morbidly curious about what would happen. He had never experienced real death before. The only context he had was in films or TV, and those were always over-dramatized with clever camera angles and soaring musical scores. This was quite different. This was gritty and real and because of that, it was terrifying. The man who had been speaking to the camera said something to his colleague who proceeded to grasp the man’s hands where they were tied behind his back and hack them off below where they were taped. Even as grainy as the image was, there was no question that it was real. Jake felt nausea swirl in his gut but still couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. The anguished screams of the man were bad, but worse still was the sound of the blood pouring from the stumps where his hand used to be splashing on the floor. It sounded like an impossible amount of liquid to come from a person. The man who had cut the hands away handed the severed appendages to his colleague, who in turn held them up to the camera as they both laughed. The man who had cut the hands away removed the blindfold from the victim so he could see what they had done. On seeing his own severed hands, the man began to beg again as the sound of his blood hitting the floor continued without any sign of slowing or stopping. Tossing the severed hands on the floor, the masked man again addressed the camera reminding those watching never to cross El Serpiente. Then, without warning, he pulled out a gun and shot the man in the head. Unlike in the movies where the brain and blood splatter, the man simply stopped moving, his chin resting on his chest as blood poured from his mouth and nose and the entry wound on his forehead. That few seconds of silence was in a way the worst part of the video before it faded to black. Jake was about to switch it off when a series of stills appeared on screen, photographs taken elsewhere. It looked like a street corner by the side of the public road. It showed the same man from the video, lying there,  he had been hacked up into pieces head and torso separated from each other, arms and elbows separated at the joints, and of course, the severed hands placed carefully on the chest palms up with the man’s severed genitals placed in them. Unlike the grainy video, these were clear and crisp in detail or at least as far as VHS quality could be. Nauseous and shaking, Jake stopped the tape and sat for a moment as he tried to process what he had just witnessed and why Martin, someone he barely knew, had seen fit to give it to him to watch. Jake knew even if he never watched the tape again, the images he had seen would stay with him forever.

As if sensing he had done what was asked of him, Jake’s phone vibrated with a new message.

Martin: HAVE YOU WATCHED IT YET?

Jake was in no mood to discuss what he had seen. he needed to understand why Martin thought it would be something he would be interested in. He typed out his reply, hoping it would buy him the time he needed.

Jake: CABLES HAVE ARRIVED BUT NOT WATCHED YET AS PEOPLE IN HOUSE. GOING TO WATCH TONIGHT WHEN THE HOUSE IS EMPTY.

He hoped that would be enough.  He waited for Martin’s reply, desperate to be left alone to contemplate.

Martin: NO PROBS. LET ME KNOW WHEN YOU’VE WATCHED IT.

Jake couldn’t think of a suitable reply, so he chose not to say anything. He sat on his bed and tried to figure out what to do next.

CANDYFLOSS

Candyfloss had been working the streets for almost eight years. She was twenty-four now and had seen pretty much all there was to see. A breeze ruffled her short leather jacket, the cold biting hard. She shifted position on her corner, watching for any potential clients. There were her regulars, of course, middle-aged businessmen who were looking for something taboo, and taboo she was. She looked young. She could pass for underage without even trying. If she put her makeup on and dressed the right way, putting her blonde hair into pigtails and caking her blue eyes with makeup, she could look as young as fourteen. They liked that, the seedy businessmen, the respectable-looking ones who had a dark secret to hide. It didn’t matter to her of course, paedophile or not. She was only interested in the money and with them, she had found her niche.

A car approached in the familiar crawl she recognised from a potential client. She stood up straight, stepping towards the curb ready to show the goods. The car, a black Mazda, slowed. She bent to look in, just as the car sped away, the four teens inside shouting the kind of obscenities at her that she was used to. She gave the car the middle finger as its laughing occupants disappeared into the night. A drizzle started to fall, and Candyfloss pulled up her hood. It was going to be a long night.

Another hour passed before another car slowed beside her. The danger of her chosen profession never bothered her apart from this moment, when she first approached the car to see what was awaiting her inside. Usually, her clients were harmless, but occasionally there had been issues. People not wanting to pay or just being weird or forceful. She had thought about getting a pimp but always talked herself out of it. If she was the one on her back doing the work, she shouldn’t have to share her hard-earned cash with anyone else. She approached the car she saw that the window was already open allowing her to see inside.

‘Looking for something?’ She asked, remembering to lean forward and push her breasts together to draw attention to them. They weren’t that big, which suited the Pedos, but the regular clients liked to see a bit of real estate.

The man driving glanced at her and then looked away. She had seen this situation a million times. The thirty-something businessman bored with his girlfriend or wife and wanting something different. Some, of course, had deeper issues and were looking for ways to satisfy those urges towards young girls in the most legal way possible. Candyfloss wondered which category this one would fit into.

The man cleared his throat ‘How old are you?’ he asked as he finally made eye contact with her.

Kiddy fiddler.

Candyfloss smiled and uncrossed her arms, realising her flat chest would help make this sale.  ‘Don’t you worry about that. What matters is, do you like what you see?’

‘Yeah, yeah, I do. How much?’

‘Depends on what you want.’

‘What I want? Oh yeah…. Just regular sex. No extras.’

‘Fifty.’

‘All right. also, there’s something else.’

‘Go on.’

‘Are you…shaved. Down there.’

She remembered when hearing depraved stuff like this used to shock and disgust her. Now, it was all just a part of the job. ‘Yeah, it doesn’t grow yet.’ She said, playing up to the character this particular client wanted. She knew he wanted to go ahead, but sometimes they needed a few extra seconds to commit.

‘All right, get in, but in the back, please. I don’t want to risk anyone I know seeing you.’

‘Fine. Do you know a place to go? If you don’t, I can show you where we won’t be disturbed.’

The man looked agitated, but also hungry for her. ‘Yeah, that would be good, thanks.’

‘That will be an extra ten, and I need everything paid in advance.’

‘Yeah, I understand. Business comes first,’ the man muttered as he shifted in his seat to pull out his wallet. He opened it and took out the cash. Candyfloss could see a faded picture of the man with what she assumed were his wife and children. That wasn’t her problem, though, all that mattered was that he paid up. Money secured in her bag; Candyfloss climbed into the back seat.

‘Where’s the place you know?’ the driver asked.

‘Go straight and turn right at the end of the street.’

The driver put the car into gear and did as instructed, driving towards the T-junction. Candyfloss made no effort to make conversation. She found most customers preferred not to. The driver slowed at the junction and made the right turn as requested. They were moving into the less well-lit areas now, an industrial area away from the orange glow of streetlamps. During the day, it would be crawling with builders and workers, but now, after dark, the area stood silent, ghosts of cranes barely visible against the night sky.

‘Okay, turn left here. It’s an unused building site. Nobody will disturb us.’

Again, the driver did as instructed, before bringing the car to rest next to a wire fence. Beyond, the disused building site stood silent.

‘All right, this is it. Do you want me to come and do it in the front or are you coming in the back?’

‘I’ll get in the back,’ the driver said. Candyfloss half smiled. He almost sounded scared. She waited as he got out of the car, taking a second to check her phone, not that she was expecting anyone to call. As the door opened, she slipped it back into her bag, ready to get the job over with. ‘Okay, how do you want to……’

The man who had gotten into the car wasn’t the driver. He was a big man, Hispanic with a shaved head. ‘You won’t be needing that,’ he said, snatching her bag from her.

‘What the fuck? Who are you? What the hell are you doing?’ She screamed, already reaching behind her for the door handle. Money and the shit in her purse could be replaced. Her life could not. She managed to open the door but before she could make moves to escape, the space was filled as another man climbed in beside her. Like the first, his head was shaved but he was even bigger. He grabbed her arm, pinning her between the two men in the middle. ‘Don’t bother fighting’, he said in choppy English. We don’t want to have to hurt you. Candyfloss was afraid. She knew whatever was about to happen wouldn’t end well. She looked past the man on the driver’s side through the window. There was a third man, also shaven-headed, but slim. He was chatting with the driver of the car. The two appeared to know each other. The skinhead handed a roll of cash to the driver, who took it and walked away into the dark as the other man replaced him in the driver’s seat of the car. He turned to face her, his eyes dark and cruel, nose misshapen from what looked like multiple breaks over the years. On the side of his neck was a crude tattoo of a snake.

‘Now listen, don’t fight. And don’t scream. If you do, we’ll have to hurt you, and we don’t want to do that, understood?’

Candyfloss nodded. ‘Please…I don’t want any trouble.’

The driver grinned his entire row of top teeth plated in gold. ‘Pity. A young girl like you comes hanging around here in the dark, then trouble is likely to find you.’

‘Please…’

‘How old are you?’ he snapped.

This was difficult. If she told him the truth with the idea that raping her was their intention, then it might just seal her fate. If, however, she used how young she looked to her advantage and lied, she might just escape.’

‘Fourteen. I’m fourteen.’

‘Fourteen, huh?’ the driver said, his face betraying no reaction either way.

‘And what’s your name?’

‘Candyfloss.’ She whispered.

The driver laughed. ‘Candyfloss, huh? Why’s that? Because you’re sweet and fluffy or because too much of you is a bad thing?’

She had no answer for that. She was watching the man beside her look through her bag. The fact he was ignoring the cash frightened her as there had been, until that point, hope this was just a robbery. The man found her purse and opened it, pulling out her id.

‘Says here her name is April, and she’s twenty-four.’ The man said, handing the ID card to the driver.

‘April and twenty-four huh?’

‘Please, just let me go.’

The driver handed the id card back to the man who put it back into her bag and zipped it closed. ‘You know, April, I think I’ll stick to calling you candyfloss. I like that name.’

‘Please, just let me go. I’ve got nothing, I’m not worth anything.’

The other man beside her, the bigger of the two, spoke up. ‘Isn’t she too old?’

The driver shook his head. ‘Doesn’t matter. She looks the part which is enough.’

‘Are you going to rape me? You don’t have to. If you promise to wear protection, I’ll do you all, just one at a time.’

The driver laughed. ‘There will be no rape, so don’t you worry about that.’

‘Then what is this?’

‘I’ll explain on the way.’ The driver replied, turning the car around and heading back the way they had come. As they set off, the man holding her bag opened the window and tossed it out onto the ground.

‘On the way where? What are you going to do to me?’

‘We’re not going to do anything to you as long as you behave and don’t cause a scene. It’s all up to you.’

She knew it was pointless to fight. Even if she hadn’t been pinned between the two large men, just one of them would have been enough to overpower her. The driver spoke like she had a choice, but she suspected he knew as well as she did that she didn’t. She remained silent as he drove the car back the way they had come.

Candyfloss remained quiet. If rape and robbery wasn’t their intention, then that left Murder. She knew there might only be one chance to escape and if that meant playing along for a while until that chance came, then that’s exactly what she would do.

The driver glanced over his shoulder at her, then returned his attention to the road. ‘Credit where it’s due, you’re keeping calm about this. That’s good. Acceptance makes it easier.’

‘Makes what easier?’

‘The process.’

She asked him to elaborate more but they drove in silence for a while. Candyfloss watched as the city gave way to the countryside. Eventually, they pulled up outside a large concrete-walled warehouse. A couple of other vehicles were in the car park. The driver shut off the engine and turned to face her. ‘Here’s the deal. We all need to go into this warehouse now. It’s important you behave. Girls like you, the streetwise ones, they sometimes act like this, all nice and docile when really what they are doing is waiting for an opportunity to try and escape. Hell, I don’t blame you, I even commend it.’

She looked past him, assessing the building, possible places she could run and hide.

‘Hell, if I were in your shoes and I’d come to this point, knowing I was about to exit the car and walk into a big, darkened building with a couple of big motherfuckers like these two, I’d be looking at this as my one big opportunity to run which is why we have to take precautions.’

Candyfloss was about to ask why when she felt a sharp pain in her arm. As she had been distracted, the man who had initially taken her bag had injected her with a syringe.

‘What is that, what did you do?’ she said, as the world quickly started to dim around her.

‘Relax, it’s just a sedative. Just to make sure we have no complications.’

He said something else but his words were lost as she slipped into unconsciousness, her one chance at escaping blotted out in an instant.

JAKE AND MARTIN

Martin was frustrated. It had been a full week since Jake had told him he’d watched the tape and since then he had been doing all he could to avoid discussing it. Then, out of the blue, Jake suggested they meet up to talk.

From the park bench where he was sitting, Martin saw Jake approach. It was the first time they had seen each other since the final day of school, and only the second time they had ever met. Martin waited as Jake sat on the bench beside him.

‘So, you watched it then?’ Martin said, glancing at Jake.

‘I did. I wasn’t sure what to think at first, but I watched it a couple more times anyway. It’s…. Sick.’

‘Yeah, it is a little. Pretty tame compared to some of the others I’ve seen though.’

‘When you get them from? This isn’t the kind of thing you can find on YouTube.’

Martin laughed; it was a dry emotionless sound. ‘No, you won’t find this anywhere on the regular internet. I got it from the deep web.’

‘What the hell is the deep web? I never heard of it.’

‘Most people haven’t. The Internet as you know it, Facebook, YouTube, Reddit, and all that stuff, is really only a small percentage of the available web. If you have the right software, you can get underneath the surface and find all sorts of things you wouldn’t believe.’

‘What kind of things?’ Jake said. He had arrived with the sole intention of giving the tape back to Martin, but now was genuinely interested in this whole deep web thing and wanted to know more. Martin glanced at him and Jake noticed the bruise under his eye.

‘What happened to your eye?’

‘Oh yeah,’ Martin said, gingerly touching the fading bruise. ‘Hibbert and his arsehole friends caught me walking home from the shop last week and finish what they started on the last day of term.’

‘That guy is a Dick. You okay?’

‘Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, enough about him, I hopefully won’t have to deal with it until we get back to school now.’

They were silent for a moment, watching a group of similar-age kids play football across the park.

‘So, tell me more about this deep web thing.’

‘Getting on there is easy, just uses a piece of free software to access the sites. It’s not for everyone though, there is some sick and twisted stuff on there. It’s a hive of paedophiles and hackers, not to mention drug pushers and pretty much any other illegal or questionable activity you can think of. As I said, the Internet as you know it is only the beginners’ Internet. The deep web is where everything else is, where people don’t necessarily want their results to come up in search engines exist. If you don’t know what you’re doing, you could end up in serious trouble.’

‘I don’t even understand how it can be allowed to exist. If the kind of things you say are on there, shouldn’t the police have closed it down?’

Martin chuckled. ‘It’s not that easy, the security and the lengths the site owners go to in order to ensure they can’t be traced is phenomenal. Essentially, everything on the deep web is completely anonymous and untraceable. It’s anything goes. No rules, no policing and no limits apart from how far you might be willing to go.’

‘Fuck, that sounds…. Hell, it sounds interesting. Could you show me how to get on there?’

Martin looked uncertain, the briefest frown appearing before he looked away. ‘I could show you, as I said, getting access is easy. The tricky part is navigating the countless rabbit holes that either lead to nowhere or to places where just accessing could get you arrested and facing serious jail time. You can’t just go on and start clicking. It doesn’t even work that way. There is no search engine as such because the sites don’t want to be found. It’s the exact opposite of the regular web where people want their sites to appear on Google and such. On the deep web, anonymity is key. There are stories of people who went too far down the wrong rabbit hole and ended up in serious trouble.’

‘If you know your way around, surely you can point me in the right direction. I only want to look to satisfy my curiosity. I have no intention of going down any rabbit holes or going too deeply into this. I’m just curious to know what it’s all about.’

Martin frowned, clearly conflicted. ‘I don’t know if this is a good idea.’

‘Then why even show me the tape? Surely you must have known I’d want to know more about it and where it came from. I take it there is more of this kind of thing. The gore stuff.’

‘If you know where to look. Not all of it’s true though, another thing rife on the deep web is fraud. Lots of places claim to offer you products and services in exchange for money then will just rip you off. As I said, it’s a minefield unless you know where to go.’

‘Then show me, help me get access. I don’t expect you to be responsible for what I do or don’t find on there.  At least if you show me, someone who’s been there and done it, I’ll at least be aware of some of the pitfalls. Come on, Martin. You can show me something like this and then not tell me how to experience it myself.’

‘No, I suppose not. I could come to your house and show you how to do it though. It’s too tricky to talk somebody through the process.’

‘Yeah. Thanks, Martin, I appreciate this.’

‘No problem, just please don’t tell anyone else about this. Although it’s not illegal to use the deep web, some of the content on there definitely is. Can I trust you not to share the information on the places I show you? The gore sites, the places where you can see things you can’t see anywhere else?’

‘Of course, you can trust me. I won’t say a word.’

‘All right, I’ll show you how to do it. When is a good time to come around and set up the software on your computer?’

‘Are you busy now? My parents are at work and I have no plans.’

‘Busy?’ Martin said, snorting a laugh. ‘I’m the bullied kid, remember? Nobody wants to mingle with the bullied kid. If you want to do it now, I’m happy to set the software up for you.’

‘All right, let’s go.’

‘No problem at all. Lead the way.’

II

Martin was right. Setting up the software and computer was easy. As was logging on to the deep web. The hardest thing was navigating. As Martin had said, there was no search engine or any obvious way to find what you are looking for. Lots of it relied on typing in specific addresses and hoping the links were not dead and went where they were supposed to go. If not for Martin helping him, he would have given up, but with a little guidance he was able to find his way around and in the last five hours since Martin had left, he had been browsing the so-called rabbit holes. Martin had also been right when he mentioned the questionable content he would find. On more than one occasion, Jake stumbled onto forums which were blatantly run by and designed for paedophiles. Just knowing such disgusting sites existed and worse, seemed to be incredibly active made him feel nauseous. He was mostly interested in seeing more of the gore videos. Martin had said the video was given to him by a friend who had initially shown him the dark web and its uses, however, most of the content was available to stream if you knew where to look. It was amazing how quickly he became desensitised to the violence on offer. The more he saw, and there was no doubt this was real, the more he wanted to see.

he promised himself he would just watch a couple more then take the software off his computer and forget about it. There was too much to do with his life other than watch other people come to any number of grizzly ends. He was looking forward to getting back to normality and enjoying the rest of the school holiday.

III

They had been back at school for almost three weeks before Martin saw Jake again. During that time, Hibbert had beaten him twice and ridiculed and embarrassed him more times than he could count. The downside to this was that he had been labelled as the bullied kid, the soft touch, and as a result, had lost any respect his fellow pupils may have had for him. It was during his lunch break when, as always, he was eating alone, he saw Jake a few tables away. Even from a distance, Martin could see that he was pale and looked exhausted. Deciding it was pointless for them both to be eating alone he moved over and sat opposite Jake.

‘I’ve not seen you in school for a while. I take it you’ve been sick?’

‘No, I’ve been here, just keeping a low profile.’

‘Yeah well, you look like you’re sick.’ Martin said, noticing up close that in addition to the pale skin, Jake’s eyes were also bloodshot with dark rings underneath.

‘I’ve been having trouble sleeping, that’s all.’

‘Come on, we both know that’s not why you’re so exhausted. You’ve been browsing the deep web, haven’t you?’

Jake didn’t answer. He sipped his can of Coke and stared into space.

‘It’s okay,’ Martin said. ‘I was like that at the start. It’s easy to become addicted.’

‘I need to stop. It’s taking over my life.’ Jake’s words were almost a whisper or a plea for help.

‘Then you should stop. It’s supposed to be a bit of fun, not an obsession.’

‘Let me ask you something,’ Jake said, his eyes suddenly intense. ‘How far have you been? Down the rabbit holes, I mean.’

‘I’m not sure what you’re asking,’ Martin’s instinct screamed at him to be cautious. It was obvious that something within Jake had changed, and until he knew to what extent that was, he decided to play it safe.

‘You know what I’m talking about,’ Jake said, a sly smile appearing on his lips. ‘The rabbit hole. Where really depraved stuff is.’

Martin shivered even though it wasn’t cold. ‘I don’t know much about that. I just stay where I know it’s safe.’

‘There is so much more, you know. I want to do you the same favour you did me

with the first tape. I want to show you something that will blow your mind.’

Martin wasn’t sure what to even say to that. This wasn’t the same kid who had helped him out with Hibbert on the last day of term. That was a confident, carefree guy. What sat opposite Martin now, was something else entirely.

‘It’s fine, as much as I appreciate it, I’ve seen pretty much all there is to see.’ He said finally, wondering why he was feeling the same tingle of fear as when he saw Hibbert coming down the school corridor.

Jake shook his head. ‘Not this. I guarantee you’d never seen anything like this before.’

‘All the same, I’ve got other issues at the moment. Thanks anyway, though.’

‘I noticed the bruises. Hibbert again?’

‘Who else?’

‘That guy is a Dick. Have you tried talking to anyone about it?’

‘As if that would help. If anything, it would probably make matters worse. I figure he’ll get bored soon enough and move on to somebody else.’

‘I remember you saying something similar before the holidays.’

‘Just leave it,’ Martin snapped. ‘I’ll handle it.’

‘Fair enough, it’s your business.’

Martin felt bad snapping at Jake. It wasn’t his fault, with his popularity in the toilet, he needed all the friends he could get. He decided to send out an olive branch.

‘So, tell me about this rabbit hole. What did you find that was so impressive?’

Jake smiled for the first time during the conversation, and even that was horrifying. There was no humour behind it. No real joy. Martin imagined tiny puppeteers manipulating Jakes’s facial muscles to make the basic shapes of a smile, but not quite pulling it off.

‘You busy after-school?’

‘I think we both know the answer to that.’

‘Good. Come over and I’ll you what I found. You won’t believe it.’

‘You should be careful on there you know. The deeper you go the more chance you’ll find something you don’t want to see.’

Jake grinned, and once again, Ice flashed through Martin’s body. ‘Don’t worry about that, I know what I’m doing. Believe me, you want to see this I know you’re the only person I can trust with it. So can you come over?’

‘I need to go home first; I can come round just after. Say around five?’

‘Yeah, that works. See you then.’

Any further conversation was ended by the sound of the school bell signalling lessons were about to begin for the afternoon. Martin spent most of the time in a daze, wondering just what he had done by showing Jake the deep web, and only hoped that whatever he had found there wasn’t anything that would get him into too much trouble.

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE

Martin opened the door to Jake’s room after Jake’s mother had let him in. If she was at all worried about her son, she showed no sign of it. Maybe she had been too busy to notice. The curtains were closed against the brightness of day, the golden sunlight trying to squeeze through the gaps in the curtains to no avail.

Jake was hunched over his computer. He glanced at Martin walking in. ‘Good, you’re here. Grab a seat.’ Jake said, motioning to the bed. Martin did as he was told perching on the end so he could see both Jake and the computer screen.

‘What’s this you’re looking at?’

Jake turned in his chair towards Martin, that twisted grin from earlier making a horrific reappearance. ‘Have you ever heard of a red room?’

‘Yeah, rooms where they take people and allegedly tortured them to death. They are bullshit though. Scams are designed to get you to part with your cash. Either that or they’re set up by the police to catch people planning to log on and watch. Trust me if that happens, you're fucked. Either way, they’re not real.’

‘What would you say if I told you I had found a real one?’

Fear bristled again in Martin in a way Hibbert could only dream of causing. ‘I’d tell you not to believe it, and certainly not to part with any money unless you never want to see it again.’

‘I don’t think you understand,’ Jake said. ‘This one is legit.’

‘I know they all say that and some of them seem very convincing. Just don’t make the mistake of falling for it.’

Jake shook his head, fully turning towards Martin. ‘I know it’s real because I’ve already watched one live.’

Silence.

Martin had no idea what to say. He looked from Jake to the computer screen and then back at Jake. ‘What you mean?’

‘I found a forum and got talking to a guy on there. We were chatting about snuff films initially, best videos, where to find the good stuff, that kind of thing. Anyway, we got to talking about the red rooms and, as you say, all the fakes out there, most of them not very good. The guy goes on to tell me he knows a place where they do it for real. A place for invited members only. You can imagine, I was sceptical, and told him as much, but he says he can prove this one is real, and as he is a member, could invite me.’

‘Don’t tell me you fell for it. Come on, Jake, this is how these scammers operate.’

‘At first, I told him no, it wasn’t worth the risk and I wasn’t about to throw money away, then he told me he could invite me into the first half-hour of the stream and it would be free of charge, after which I could either pay the money to see the rest or back out and think it over. It was too good an offer to refuse, so I told him I’d go ahead.’

‘Jesus, this is so dangerous. You shouldn’t be doing stuff like this. What if it’s an undercover police sting or something? Do you know what kind of trouble you’ll be in if you get arrested for paying to watch someone die, even if it’s not real?’

‘Hang on, let me finish. Last Saturday is when it was supposed to happen, and in truth I expected him to no show, yet twenty minutes before the show was supposed to start as agreed, he sent me a link.’

Martin couldn’t speak. He was trying to take this all in but even though the words were going in he was unable to make any sense of them.

‘I clicked through and found myself on a page with the video window to the left, and a scrolling chat box on the right. There was a lot of excitement and anticipation in the chat, with people saying they were looking forward to it and discussing what would happen. The guy I’d been talking to, who had given me the link, messaged me privately to say he could see that I had clicked into the red room, and that I should make a username and interact in the chat. I didn’t want to do this of course. I just wanted to watch but this was one of the rules, so I had to follow it. I chose something pretty generic. Ob3erver one, I think, compared to some of the names in there, names like Necrophile4life and kidyfiddlerforfun, I hoped that my username would go under the radar as intended. The video panel showed a concrete room with a single wooden chair in the centre. There was an overlay on the screen with the countdown stating it was just 15 minutes until the show began.’

Jake paused, eyes flicking from Martin to the screen. He cleared his throat and went on. ‘I don’t mind admitting that I was scared. Terrified. If I could have backed out I would, but I knew it was probably more dangerous to leave at that point than it was to stay. It all became academic anyway, as an admin message popped up in the chat to state that the red room had been filled everybody present now had to stay for at least the first fifteen minutes. They went on to explain how it would work. When the show began, the victim would be led into the room and placed on the chair. It would then be up to those present in the chat to tell the two torturers in the room what they wanted to be done and how they wanted it to happen provided that they were willing to pay the fee of course.’

‘Jesus, this is insane. Please tell me you didn’t take part.’

‘It seemed everything had a certain cost from the low-value purchases such as pulling teeth or fingernails starting from around fifty dollars each, or in our currency, say thirty-eight quid, and scaling up from there, with the top tier items such as rape, dismemberment of limbs going for thousands with various levels in between. It was done on a scale to ensure maximum value for money. You’re not allowed to go straight into the high-level dismemberment as all the low-value torture methods had to be sold first, gradually increasing intensity and violence until, if the victim was still alive, the high-end items could be accessed.’

‘That’s sick. Disgusting actually.’ Martin felt as if he were somewhere else, and that Jake’s words were a distant whisper far away, or a radio not quite tuned in to the station.

‘That’s not even the end of it. Because there were multiple people in the red room all wanting to have their depraved needs carried out on the victim, it wasn’t just a case of simply paying for what you wanted to have done. For example, you could pay your fifty dollars to have a tooth pulled, but fifty other people may also have bid for that privilege, so they work on a system where you can put in a high bid to try and price out your competition. Think of it like eBay. You place your highest bid and hopefully win. This applies to all levels, so any of the items available rarely go for the price listed. Often, the people in those rooms have the money to ensure that they win and get to message in with what they want to be done to the victim and then see it happen live on-screen.’

‘Fuck, you shouldn’t be messing with this kind of stuff. Do you realise you could go to jail for this? It’s not a game, Jake. This is serious, even if it’s fake like I’m still convinced it is.’

‘You think I don’t know that? As I said, if I could have backed out I would, but I was stuck there. Even then, I didn’t think it was real until they brought the girl in.’

‘Jesus,’ Martin whispered.

‘Have you ever tasted fear? It was a new experience, but I could taste it, the bitterness in the throat as they led that poor trembling girl in.’

‘Did you watch what they did to her?’

‘Course not. I couldn’t. I put my earphones in and listened to music and looked at my phone until the fifteen minutes was up and I could log out. Even then, something I will never forget were the sounds of that poor girl begging for her life.’

Jake paused, letting the silence linger. It was as if nothing outside that room existed.

‘You should have seen some of the comments in the chat, Martin. Some of the things they were saying. The things they were asking for and then laughing when it was taking place. Jesus Christ, is it any wonder I can’t sleep anymore?’

Martin was about to speak when Jake cut him off. ‘And don’t tell me it’s fake. I know the difference between cinema and reality. This was no CGI. This was real. It was happening in real-time.’

Martin suddenly understood why he had been asked to come. It wasn’t as he suspected, to take part in looking at some depraved content on the deep web, it was to help Jake get out of the problem he had discovered.

‘Okay, we can fix this. Maybe there’s a way to report the site, or we can give the link you were sent to the police.’

Jake exhaled and lowered his head. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It is not something to apologise for. If anyone is to blame, it’s me for showing you this stuff.’

Jake frowned, and then understanding hit him. ‘I don’t think you understand. It’s not because of how nasty it was that I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep because I can’t stop thinking about what I might have missed. I can’t watch alone, otherwise I’ll end up just looking away again.  I want you to watch the next one with me. Tonight.’

‘No. I have no interest in watching that. The best thing we can do is get rid of it, report it to the police and get rid of the software. You’ll soon forget this ever happened and move on with your life.’

‘I can’t. You don’t understand how much this is affecting my life. As you said, you brought me into this world. I never asked for it, I never knew anything about it until you give me that execution video. You owe me this at least.’

‘You can ask me to do this it’s not fair. Watching a snuff video is one thing, actively taking part in live torture and murder is a whole new level.’

Martin went to stand, but Jake grabbed his wrist. His fingers were cold.

‘You owe me, Martin. I’m your only friend, don’t lose that by not helping me resolve the situation you helped create. You don’t even have to watch, just be in the room while I look at it. If someone else is there I won’t be tempted to look away. I can finally get this out of my system for good.’

‘I understand that and I’m sorry, but I just can’t get involved.’

‘You’re already involved, Martin. If I go down for this and if you don’t help me get it out of my system, I swear I’ll take you down with me.’

Martin pulled his wrist free from Jake’s grip.

‘I had nothing to do with this. I warned you about the rabbit holes and to stay clear of them. This is all you.’

‘I know you did, and I wish I’d listened, but we’re here now. Please watch this with me tonight let me get over it we can move on. I’m begging you, Martin. Help a friend out.’

‘Fine, I’ll do this, but this is the only time. You watch and get it out of your system, then we take off the software remove it for good and never speak of it again. Those are the only circumstances I’ll agree to go ahead with this.’

‘That works for me. Believe me, I just want this to be done with. I appreciate your help. I’ll never forget it.’

‘Let’s just get it over and done with. What time tonight does it start?’

‘Nine o’clock, but you have to be logged in twenty minutes early.’

‘Fine. I’ll come back at half past eight. Remember, this is a one-off. Do what you need to do to get out of your system and be done with it, okay?’

‘Absolutely. That’s all I want.’

Martin didn’t feel like responding. He was frustrated, angry and more than a little scared. Nausea swirled in his gut at the thought of what he would witness a few hours from now. Desperate for a way out, he made his way home at a brisk pace, the cyclone of thoughts on possible outcomes swirling around his mind only seeming to increase in quantity and velocity as more time passed. Everything about it felt bad and he only hoped that both he and Jake would come out of the other side.

THE RED ROOM

Candyfloss was chained to a bed. She had been awake for a while but was still drowsy from the drugs. It wasn’t quite enough to fully dispel the fear which lingered within her, yet rather than the life or death matter it should be, it was a distant inconvenience. She looked around the room, the walls peppered with black mould. There were no windows, and the only door stood at the foot of the bed and was closed. She knew she should be screaming, yet there was a blissful indifference radiating from within. She exhaled and let her head fall back onto the grubby pillow. Time passed, yet she didn’t how much. She had been drifting in and out of consciousness, dreaming happy times from a life forgotten. At some point, she became vaguely aware that somebody else was in the room with her. She lifted her head, recognising the man but unsure why or where from. She had a brief flash of him possibly driving her somewhere, the details fuzzy.

‘Good. You’re awake. You also haven’t given us any trouble, which is in your favour.’

‘Do I live here?’ She slurred.

The man smiled and took a step further into the room. ‘Not really, in fact, it’s a good job we gave you something to take the edge off.’

‘Do we know each other?’

‘Not yet, but we will soon enough. Now you’ve behaved yourself, so I’m going to be straight up with you. You’ll be coming down from the drugs we gave you shortly, so I’ll tell you this now, so it has time to sink in. You’re going to die here today.’

‘You’re mean’ she slurred again, eyes rolling back into her skull.

The man smiled and sat on the end of the bed. ‘I’m going to give you the same talk I give all the girls who come here. The same opportunity. When this sinks in, when the drugs have worn off and you realise what’s about to happen, you’ll want to remember this. As I said, you’re going to die here tonight. Nothing will stop that. What I can do, is make it easier for you. I can make the hurt less. I can’t fully take it away as we have paying customers expecting to see it, but we can give you this same drug you’re on now to take the edge off. It will still hurt, and you’ll still feel it, but it will be bearable. On the other hand, if you fight, if you make it difficult for us to do what needs to be done, we’ll make sure you go in there clean and drug-free. Trust me, you don’t want that. If so, you’ll feel everything.’

‘I’ll think about it.’ She was still slurring and had no real concept of what was being said to her.

‘You do that. You think it over and let me know when I come for you. Something tells me you might be more open to the idea then.’

Candyfloss nodded and let her head fall back on the pillow as she drifted away to wherever her chemical-fuelled brain took her.

YOU GET WHAT YOU PAY FOR

Martin and Jake had hardly spoken. Martin sat beside Jake on a chair he had produced from downstairs for his pending arrival. They stared at the screen, the video feed blank, the chat full of disgusting comments. There was much Martin wanted to say, to ask. More than anything, he wanted to find a way to talk Jake out of watching the stream. He had considered and rejected countless ideas already and was struggling to think of more when he saw Jake take a credit card out of his pocket.

‘What’s that for?’ Martin asked.

Jake looked at him, his eyes somewhat dead and devoid of emotion. ‘What do you think?’

‘Where the hell did you get a credit card from?’

‘It’s my dad’s. I lifted it out of his wallet.’

‘You said we were just going to watch. You never said anything about taking part. Do you even realise what would happen if you got caught for this? You’d go to jail.’

‘Relax, I’m just buying some bitcoin. I’ll probably use it for something else.’

‘Probably? You don’t sound too convincing. This isn’t some sort of video game where you have micro-transactions or DLC. You’re potentially becoming an accessory to fucking murder.’

‘Just relax. You don’t need to worry about this.’

‘Jake….’

‘Just drop it.’

Martin knew it was pointless to argue. It was obvious enough that Jake was determined to see this through regardless of the consequences. There was some kind of gritty reality to the setup. Most of the obvious fakes that popped up throughout the deep web were filled with sensationalist statements and badly photoshopped gore images to try and sell the product. This couldn’t be further from that. It was a bare minimum set-up. No fanfare, no attempts to oversell, just a plain white page with a video window and a chat box. Martin’s gut tightened as more nervous anticipation surged through him. He glanced towards the door, testing out and rejecting excuses to leave in his head as everyone he thought of seemed inadequate.

‘Jesus, look at you,’ Jake said, laughing. ‘You look terrified. I hope you’re not thinking about bailing out on me.’

‘This is all wrong, why do you need to watch this? What will you achieve?’

‘I thought you, of all people, would understand. You brought me into this, remember? If you hadn’t given me that video to watch, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.’

‘Don’t put this on me. Fair enough, I gave you that video to watch, but that and this don’t even compare.’

‘In what way is this different? You sent me a video of somebody getting murdered, which is exactly what we're about to watch right now. I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal about this.’

Martin was angry. Most of his life was spent being timid and deferring to other people, sometimes he snapped and forgot about his physical limitations. ‘Of course, it’s different, the video of the execution I sent you was at least 10 years old. It was over and done with and there was nothing that could be done to save the victim. If this is as described, and this is all about to happen live, then there is still a chance to save whoever they take into that room and do God knows what to. Can you honestly say your conscience can live with knowing you could have helped?’

‘Stop talking such shit. We can’t help this person any more than we could help the guy on the torture tape. We don’t know where they are, and I’m not talking about the city, but the country. What’s about to happen could be taking place anywhere in the world. How do you suggest we go about stopping it when it’s about to kick off in the next five minutes? We can’t report it to the police as it will incriminate us too, and even if we did, these kinds of streams will be encrypted and untraceable. By the time the police had even arrived, it would already be too late for the victim.’

‘That’s no justification for taking part.’

‘Who said anything about taking part? I just want to watch.’

‘Yet you conveniently got your hands on some Bitcoin? Are you telling me that’s just a coincidence?’

What is it to you? I asked you to come here when I was watching it. Nobody is forcing you to look, just get off my back and leave me to it.’

‘I’m having nothing to do with this.’ Martin said. He stood, walked to the bed, and turned back away from the screen.

‘Fine, suit yourself.’

There was an awkward silence to allow the tension to dissipate. It was Jake who broke it.

‘Hey, what username should we use for the chat?’

‘We?’

Okay, me. What username do I use?’

‘Why do you need a username if you’re not getting involved?’ Martin said, hoping his annoyance was transmitting across to Jake.

‘I’m just going to say hi. Don’t you get the excitement of it? I know you don’t agree, but…you have to admit it’s a buzz.’

‘Do what you want. I’m keeping out of it.’

Jake shrugged and turned back to the screen. ‘Oh, I got it, perfect username for us and how we met. SNUFFANZ how does that sound?’

Martin stopped listening. He couldn’t shake the anxiety and sense of dread that this was all going to end badly.

III

Even though he knew it was coming, Martin grimaced when Jake said the words he had been dreading.

‘Hey, it’s starting.’

Martin still didn’t want to watch, but at the same time, there was a morbid curiosity, a desire to see if it was, after all, just a scam or a clever fake of some kind. Fighting the instincts still screaming at him to get out of there, he moved towards the foot of the bed so he could see the screen.

It was the same concrete room as before. Filthy walls, a single chair in the centre of the room. The only other piece of furniture was a small table with a laptop on it. The camera was facing straight at the chair. One of the men turned to look at the camera.

‘And for tonight’s treat…. Candyfloss.’

Two other men led her in, blonde hair dirty and stuck to her face. She was completely naked. She didn’t struggle. Her eyes had the glazed look brought on by drugs. They sat her into the chair, her head lolling as she was tied.

Martin and Jake looked on. One in horror, one in anticipation. As they watched, the chat window exploded.

RAGER6: WOW.

Mindybusiness: We’ve got a young one!

Demonic1: Perfect. I’d fuck her and then kill her. Or maybe the other way around.

CulticLeader: Lol. Who else is up for gang rape?

FleshFlayer6: This bitch is going to die so sweetly.

Martin watched the comments come. He was glad to see Jake made no effort to join in the sick conversations. With Candyfloss seated, the masked man turned to the camera.

‘And now, tier one options are available.’

Martin watched as the chat once again exploded to life. He glanced at Jake, who was staring with a strange mixture of revulsion, excitement and anticipation. Still the chat rolled on.

Filthyhole: rip fingernails off (£35)

CulticLeader: Pull out an eye. (£30)

Sodomistic: Let her go. LOL (£0)

WizardSlv: Blowtorch her fingernails off and make her eat them. (£75)

Gimpylatex: I’m with CulticLeader. Do the eyeeeeee. (£40)

RAGER6: Whatever happened to a good old-fashioned beating? Rough the bitch up a bit! (£30)

The requests kept coming. All the while, Candyfloss sat in the chair, unaware of what was about to happen. After a few moments, a buzzer sounded. The masked man spoke again.

‘Round one has concluded. The high bidder was… WizardSlve. His request, to burn off her fingernails with a blowtorch and feed them to her. His high bid: was £75. This will commence on receipt of funds. Remember, Cryptocurrency payments only will be accepted.’

Martin and Jake looked on. Former hoping to spot signs of fakery, latter knowing everything about to happen was real. The man on screen spoke again. ‘Transfer has been confirmed.’

The other masked man immediately went off screen. A few moments later, he came back wielding a blowtorch. It hissed to life as he activated it. Back in Jake’s room, Martin watched on in horror as any hope that this was some kind of elaborate fraud disappeared by the second.

The man with the blowtorch grabbed Candyfloss by the wrist where it was tied to the chair and without hesitation, set the blowtorch flame to her hand.

Candyfloss screamed.

No amount of drugs could shield her from that sort of agony. The flesh on her fingertips shrivelled back, splitting and exposing the bones underneath. The fingernails also blackened and curled back as they were exposed to the intense flame.

Martin couldn’t decide what was more horrific. What was happening to the poor girl on screen, or the way Jake seemed completely unmoved. He leaned closer to the screen, eyes fixated on the spectacle. The chat too, seemed untroubled by what was happening.

Necromatic: Oh shit! Yes! Good shout, Wizard!

Filthyhole: ok, this was better than just ripping them off. Sick. Lol!

Sodomistic: Burn, Baby! I’ve had hotdogs split like that on the Barbecue.

RAGER6: Anyone else feeling hungry right now?

Filthyhole: Good shout, RAGER6. Wonder what it smells like?

Back in the room, Candyfloss had gone into shock. She was trembling in the chair, but no longer screaming. Her hand was a mess. The masked man with the blowtorch shut it off and set it on the floor. He then peeled away the blackened remains of three of Candyfloss’s fingernails, which caused her to scream again as they pulled away from the stubborn knubs of flesh at the end. He then grabbed her by the hair, pulling her head up. Her cheeks were streaked with black makeup where she’d been crying, her eyes glassy but fully understanding of what was happening. The masked man didn’t care. He jammed the fingernails into her mouth. Candyfloss gagged and tried to spit them out, but the man wouldn’t allow it. He held her jaw shut.

‘Swallow.’ He said.

Again, she tried to spit them out, one of the blackened mails sticking to her chin. With the patience of someone feeding a toddler, the man scooped the wayward nail back in and covered her mouth, pinching her nose until she swallowed. Satisfied, he allowed her head to loll back down, chin resting on her chest, drool seeping from her mouth.

The masked man hosting the event, now satisfied, turned back to the camera. ‘And now, tier two requests are open.’

As before, the chat exploded into life. Martin read some of the comments, none of them apparently caring a thing about this poor girl.

‘Alright, we’ve seen enough. Shut it down now.’ He said. Jake, however, either didn’t hear or chose to ignore it. ‘Jake, come on, enough, shut it down’

‘Hang on, just give me a second.’

‘Don’t you realise how wrong this is?’

‘Just wait. Please.’ Then, as Martin watched, Jake did the thing he had hoped he wouldn’t. He started typing in the chat.

RAGER6: how about the old pull her teeth with pliers?

Necromatic: Nah, tier 1 stuff that. Boring.

SNUFFANZ: Take a sledgehammer to her legs. Break them both. (£300)

Sodomistic: boring. No imagination here.

Filthyhole: We’re only at level 2 remember? Don’t want to finish her off too soon. I second the leg break.

Martin looked on in horror. ‘See what you’ve done? You’re a participant now. You’re involved.’

For the first time, Jake looked a little concerned. ‘Nah, not to worry, it will get outbid. It’s pretty tame compared to what could happen.’

‘I don’t see anyone else bidding.’

Jake stared at the chat; excitement replaced by concern.

CulticLeader: I say we cut her hand off and have them finger her with it.

RAGER6: Nahh, way above tier two that is, Cultic. She’d bleed out before the good stuff starts. Save it for later.

Necromantic: What about the eye pop? Anyone willing to stump for it?

Sodomistic: LOL Noob SNUFFANZ overbidding for the leg break. Nobody is going to outbid 300 at tier 2. May as well save your cash, peeps for later.

Gimpylatex: I’m with Sodomistic. SNUFFANZ is either rich or stupid. Paying Tier 4  money for a tier 2 punishment.

Martin stared at the chat. He could sense the tension from Jake. ‘You see what you’ve done?’

Jake glanced at him, and Martin could see the fear. ‘Someone will outbid. Surely, they will.’

Back in the room, the buzzer sounded. The masked host turned to the camera as the chat fell silent.

‘Round two has been completed. The high bidder is, Snuffanz with the request to break both legs with a sledgehammer. His high bid, was three hundred. This will commence on successful transfer of funds.’

Martin grabbed Jake by the shoulder. ‘What the fuck have you just done?’

Jake glanced at the screen, then at Martin, unsure what to do.

‘Shut it down, now.’

‘I can’t, not now I’ve won. They’ll come after me if I back out.’

‘You can’t go through with this, Jake. This isn’t some game.’

In that second, the confusion dissipated, replaced by the dead inside boy who had fallen so deeply into the rabbit hole. ‘I have to follow it through. She’s going to die anyway; a broken leg isn’t going to be what finishes her off. After this, I promise we’ll log off and be done with it.’

Martin had no words. None of it made sense. He could only watch, as Jake started the process of paying the money for the grim service he’d just paid for.

PART TWO

By Matt Shaw

THE REAL WORLD

Jake pulled the Virtual Reality headset off mid-game. He felt sick. Not because of the game he’d been playing but rather, the motion. He preferred the games where you teleported from space to space, not where you moved around in an open world; especially one as realistic as that. The sickness wouldn’t put him off playing the game any further, but it would be one of those titles where he’d play here and there instead of giving it long stints. Besides which, even if the sickness hadn’t forced him to step away for a bit, dinner was due to be dished up. The last thing he wanted to be was late to the table, especially after his mum had told him there probably wasn’t any point in starting the game just yet. Might as well wait until after dinner. I don’t want to be calling and calling you. He promised she wouldn’t have to call him and, he’d been true to his word.

Jake set the headset down on his computer desk. He caught sight of himself in the full-length mirror on the nearby wall and shocked himself. So realistic was the game, he’d gotten used to seeing his in-game reflection as a teenager. Here he was, back to his nine year old spotty self again. He laughed at the sudden shock at such a sight because, over Christmas, he’d watched a Tom Hanks film called Big. In the movie, made well before he was born, a young boy wished he was big. The following morning, he woke as an adult. After living that life for a while, he finally wishes to be small again and - yeah… Same thing for him. One morning he gets up, looks back in the mirror and there he is - a young child again. Jake couldn’t help but wonder how many people were going to experience the weird sensation of being shocked at your own reflection, thanks to how life-like virtual reality was getting. He shrugged. Not important. He stepped away from the mirror and pulled his bedroom door open. He froze and his heart skipped a beat. Another thing about the virtual reality headsets? They can block out the real world, both sights and sounds. From across the hall, behind another closed door, he could hear his sister crying. She was almost always crying. The times she wasn’t? She was screaming and cursing.

Worried she’d sense him standing there, Jake quickly hurried across the landing and down the stairs.

II

The dining room was quiet despite Jake sitting there with his mother. There was a time, before his sister got sick, when they’d all sit down together, and they’d talk about their day. Back then, Jake wished he could eat his dinner in front of the television. He hated talking about his day, and he hated hearing about their’s. Today, with things the way they were, he missed it.

He reached for the tomato sauce bottle resting in the middle of the table. His mum watched as he took it and proceeded to empty half of it onto his dinner plate. She frowned. ‘I didn’t think you liked tomato sauce?’

Jake shrugged. Someone - he can’t recall who - once told him that a person’s tastebuds changed when they got older. Maybe his had changed and he needed to give the sauce another go? Whatever. He looked at his plate, all splattered in red and smiled. His mind immediately transported back to the game he’d been playing. All the “red” pooling on the floor of the Red Rooms. Ah, that’s where the name comes from, it clicked. He dipped a fry into the sauce and put it in his mouth. Despite the realistic images from the computer game coming to mind, he wasn’t put off eating. His mother said nothing, such was her disinterest in his sudden “like” of ketchup.

The door opened. From upstairs, Jake could hear his sister screaming. Her vocals went silent when his father stepped in and closed the door behind him. The real world was cut out once more and, it was just the three of them. Jake watched his dad take his seat. Quietly, he picked up his own knife and fork and - without a word - he proceeded to eat. Jake watched, unable to take his eyes from his pale dad. Just as they never used to sit in silence, his dad never used to look so ghostly.

‘How is she?’ Maria, Jake’s mum, asked. She was referring to Jake’s sister, Emily.

James, Jake’s dad, sighed. He wished he could say Emily was getting better but, it would have been a lie. If anything, she seemed to be getting worse. His sigh answered the question without the need for further words. Instead of carrying on an unwanted conversation, he turned to Jake instead. ‘How’s the game?’

‘It’s good. Thank you for getting it.’

‘Welcome, bud.’ James smiled. Both James and Maria knew Jake was struggling with everything that was happening with his sister. They didn’t usually go out and drop sixty pounds on a game, unless it was a birthday or Christmas present, but - they felt like Jake really needed a distraction from all that was going on. Especially if Emily was getting worse. ‘Sorry it’s not the new Grand Theft Auto.’

‘It’s fine.’

‘I told you I don’t want him playing that sort of stuff,’ Maria said. ‘We’ve already got one…’ Her voice trailed off when she caught James’s hard stare. There was no need for her to rant about the game James hadn’t bought. She’d have been fully justified had he actually purchased it. As it was, neither James nor Maria really knew what they’d bought; the same could be said for any of the games the kids were playing these days. The only reason she knew GTA was because of the media coverage it got due to the graphic content. What she didn’t realise though, was that if virtual reality was as mainstream as “normal” gaming then, this game would definitely have been flagged for its content and condemned via the media outlets.

‘What do you have to do in this game?’ James asked, not because he cared but because he wanted a bit of “normal” after paying Emily a visit in her room. He always did this; acted as normal as possible after going into her room. A way to forget what he had seen, or perhaps a way to convince himself that not everything was as bad. If asked, he would have said it was probably a bit of both.

Jake knew they’d stop him playing if they knew the exact details so, he purposefully kept his summary short and sweet: You play as a teenager. You’re given a video-tape…’

James laughed. ‘Do you even know what one of those is?’

Jake ignored him. ‘You have to discover where the tape came from. It’s good.’

‘I miss the days of Sonic.’

‘We still have that!’

‘No, you have remakes of it and crappy sequels. The original was where it was at. And, when I was finally allowed it… Mortal Kombat.’

‘What’s that?’

‘A fighting game.’

‘We don’t need to be filling his head with that kind of nonsense,’ Maria said sternly. On perfect cue, there was a loud thud from upstairs. ‘Should I go up?’

‘It was just the headboard on the wall. She’s fine.’

‘I should check,’ Maria argued.

‘I said, she is fine.’

Jake was grateful for the change in topic, given it meant he didn’t accidentally let slip about the other characters you played within the virtual world. His mum and dad didn’t need to know about the best bits; specifically the part where you changed character when “you” were watching the torture scenes. During those moments, “you” were transported into the body of the person doing the torture. That was the best bit by far. So much red.

James continued, ‘He’ll be here soon enough and then we can all go in to see her.’

Jake snapped back to reality - having had his mind momentarily drift to one of the many virtual-violent encounters he’d had. He asked, ‘Even me?’

James shook his head. ‘No. I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

‘I want to see her.’

‘Maybe soon, kiddo. I promise.’

Maria shot James a look. She hated it when he made promises he couldn’t be sure to keep. She said nothing.

HOPE

The red Ford Fiesta pulled up alongside the curb, just in front of number twenty-three. The driver, Father Gabe, was grateful for the illumination on the house number given most of the other houses had none. What with it being both dark, and raining heavily, the last thing he wanted to do was get soaked looking for the correct address.

It was the first time he’d been called to the house and, he didn’t know any of the family members who lived here. All he knew was that the teenage girl - a young lady by the name of Emily - was unwell and her parents were frantic. Even though they weren’t members of his congregation, Father Gabe still felt a duty of care to pay them the visit they requested. With the way the heavens had opened on his way over, he wished he’d stayed home but then, if he had done so, it wouldn’t have made the Church of England look particularly compassionate.

He switched his engine off and sat there a moment, wondering as to whether the rain was going to ease a little, to save him a proper drenching up to the door. He looked to the skies; they were hidden behind a blanket of heavy, black clouds. There was no way there’d be a let up and, he realised, all he was doing was delaying the inevitable.

With the keys pulled from the ignition, he pushed the driver’s door open and quickly climbed from his seat. He slammed the door shut and promptly made his way up to the - thankfully - covered porch-way of the quiet-looking house.

Even though he gave sermons every Sunday to a fairly large congregation, Father Gabe still felt uneasy heading into situations without being fully prepped as to what exactly was expected from him. He knew the daughter was unwell but, other than that, he was going in blind as the parents didn’t want to discuss her ailment over the phone. For all he knew, he was there to read the girl her Last Rites but, that would have been a guess. Maybe - hopefully - they just wanted him to sit by her bed and read some prayers for her. A hope that, in doing so, she would make a miraculous recovery? Truth be told, he didn’t really want to be reading the Last Rites to a young woman… It was bad enough doing it for someone who’d lived a full and happy life. But someone so young? It was never going to be a “nice” part of the job. Still, all being well, they’d just want some prayers. With a feeling of apprehensive still firmly swirling in the pit of his stomach, he knocked on the door.

II

‘Thank you.’ Father Gabe took the cup of tea that was offered to him. He was sitting on the settee in the family’s living room. Maria had brought him the tea and, whilst waiting, Father Gabe and James had been passing the time with small chat - mostly about the weather, although James did accidentally call it “God-awful weather”, for which he was quick to apologise as he was unsure whether it counted as blasphemy. During the time, waiting for the tea, Father Gabe did not bring up the conversation of Emily and nor was it offered.

‘Jake, buddy, can you turn that off?’ James called across the room to Jake who was sitting in front of the television, watching some random show which James didn’t recognise.

‘But it’s nearly finished.’

‘And that’s why we let you have a television in your room. Go on. We have to talk to Father Gabe.’

Fed up with always being sent away whenever the “adults needed to talk”, Jake switched the television off and left the room. He didn’t go upstairs though. Instead, he sat on the bottom step and listened in, ever curious why a vicar was sitting in their living room. Up until this point, they’d never been a religious family so, what had changed?

Father Gabe sipped his tea. Milky with two sugars, just the way he liked it. ‘That’s good. Thank you.’

‘We’re sorry to call you out on an evening like this,’ James said - cutting to the chase.

‘Honestly it’s not a problem.’

‘We didn’t have anyone else to turn to.’

As James took the lead in conversation, Maria went and sat next to him. On instinct, he reached over and put a caring hand on her leg.

‘May I ask the problem?’

‘It’s our daughter, Emily. As we discussed on the telephone, she’s not very well.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Father Gabe had made such a statement when they’d been talking on the phone but, it didn’t hurt to say it again.

‘The thing is, all the doctors - and there have been many… They say she is fine.’

Father Gabe couldn’t help but look confused. If the professionals said she was fine, then why was he here? ‘Okay…’

‘But, we know our own daughter and…’ Unsure of the words to say, James turned to Maria for some help.

Maria chimed in, ‘That’s not our daughter.’

‘I’m sorry but, you’ve lost me.’

‘She’s… changed. She isn’t feeling herself.’

It all started to click into place. Father Gabe nodded to what James was saying. Times had been tough for many people in recent years. Students were falling behind in lessons because of the lockdowns a few years ago, cost of living was going up, there were wars happening overseas which were impacting the lives of those living in this country too… The world was a stressful place, there was no denying it. As such, many people were suffering with their mental health and Father Gabe could only hazard a guess that this was going to be getting worse as the months and years continued. That is, unless the government stepped in and did something drastic but - currently - they were more interested in swapping and changing out who was leading them. Everything was a shit-show, not that Father Gabe would voice his feelings in such a way. Not out loud anyway.

James continued, ‘We thought you might be able to talk to her. You know, bring her back to us…’

Father Gabe took another sip of his tea. As much as he’d like to sit there until it was finished, he wasn’t there for a social. He was there to help two strangers who’d reached out in their hour of need. They might not have been believers, or at least members of his congregation, but - perhaps this incident might help to convert them. ‘May I meet her?’

James nodded. ‘I can take you but…’ He hesitated.

‘But…?’

‘I’m sorry in advance. For if she says anything… Offensive.’

Father Gabe smiled. He often worked down in the community hall, helping out those who were struggling. If Emily was to say something rude, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d heard whatever it is she had to say. That was almost certain. Even so, he said, ‘Thank you for the warning. We’ll be fine.’ He stood up.

Maria got up before James. ‘It’s this way.’ She led Father Gabe from the room and visibly jumped when she turned the corner and saw Jake sitting on the bottom stair. ‘I thought you were in your room. Go and play. Go on.’

‘I want to see Emily too.’

‘Not yet. You can’t. Soon.’

Jake was never comfortable to just go into Emily’s room, given the fact she was always crying or screaming but - it didn’t mean he didn’t want to see her. She was his sister after all. The problem was, neither his mum nor his dad thought it was a good idea. He thought with a stranger there, he might finally have been allowed in too. Pointing to the vicar, he asked, ‘Why can he see her, but I can’t?’

Maria snapped, ‘I said, go to your room!’ With the suddenness in which she spoke, and the tone in her voice, Jake turned and ran up the stairs to his room. Moments later and the door slammed. Maria struggled to hide her embarrassment. She said to Father Gabe, ‘I’m sorry about that.’ Her embarrassment was not down to her son making a show. It was down to the way she had shouted at him.

Father Gabe shrugged it off. ‘I’ve seen worse.’ His words brought Maria some comfort. If he had seen worse than perhaps, he was the right person for the task at hand? Perhaps he could talk to Emily and bring her back to how she once was?

‘This way.’

EMILY

‘It is important to wash your sex toys after use. Did you know that?’ Fifteen-year-old Emily was laying on her bed. She was secured to the frame as if she was recreating a scene from the motion picture, The Exorcist, albeit without the green-soup and obligatory head-spinning. She was leaning forward. The way she spoke, her tone in particular, was purposeful - to taunt Father Gabe who was standing in the doorway with a shocked look on his face.

Father Gabe took his eyes from Emily and glanced over to where Maria was standing a few feet away, further into the bedroom but as far as she dared go in. She had an apologetic look in her eyes and shame written all over her face.

‘Hey, fuck-face, I’m talking to you.’

Father Gabe turned back to Emily. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘I said, it is important to wash your sex toys after use.’

‘Well, yes, I could imagine. Good hygiene is important.’ Father Gabe wasn’t entirely sure what else he should be saying.

Emily laughed. ‘Is that why you baptise babies?’ Her laughter continued. ‘Because they’re your sex toys. You fuck ‘em. You put your hard dick in their tiny little arseholes, pushing in and ripping up their insides.’ She winked at him. ‘I’m no baby but, if you want to try someone a little older, I’m game to be stretched open. Only fucked once and I can’t say I enjoyed it but then - I was a little prudish back then. I reckon now… Undo these restraints and I’m sure I could show you a thing or two… And, if you want, I’ll even make coo-coo-gah-gah noises like a baby. What do you say? Want to stick it in me?’

Maria burst into tears and hurried from the room. Father Gabe took a step in. James stood by his side. ‘I’m sorry but I promise you, this isn’t her. Every day she has been getting… worse. But before all this started… She was a quiet girl. She wouldn’t say boo to a goose let alone… Well…’ James reiterated, ‘This isn’t her.’ He added, ‘We thought it might have been a brain tumour, or something… You know, pressing on her brain but the scans are all clear. As we said before, the doctors are saying there is nothing wrong with her but, this isn’t our daughter.’

‘Blah blah blah… Are you honestly saying you’d rather listen to his horse-shit than give me little slit a good, old-fashioned tongue punch? Hey… You’re a man of the cloth. If it makes you feel better, once you’ve got your dick wet on my delectable cunt-juices, you can wipe your prick clean on your cloth and make yourself all holy again.’ Emily laughed again. ‘Or maybe you’d rather come to the Dark side… It’s way more fun over here.’

Father Gabe shook his head. ‘I’m sorry.’ He turned and left the room. James followed and closed the bedroom door behind him. Emily immediately started screaming again.

‘I’m sorry,’ James was quick to say, ‘I should have warned you exactly what was happening.’

Father Gabe turned to the frantic father and asked, ‘And what exactly is happening here? You have your daughter restrained to the bed…’

‘You saw her for yourself, that’s not our daughter. I’m just hoping she is still in there.’

‘You’re talking like you believe her to be possessed. Is that what you’re trying to tell me? That your daughter is possessed.’

‘You saw her!’

‘I saw an angry young lady. Without knowing her personally, who am I to say she wasn’t always like this.’

James stared at Father Gabe in disbelief for a moment. Then, ‘You don’t believe us?’

‘I don’t know you. All I know is you’ve restrained…’

James cut him off. ‘She would lash out. She scratched her mother’s face. We didn’t have a choice! I tried to get her help, but the doctors refuse to acknowledge anything is wrong with her.’

‘How old is your daughter?’

‘She’s fifteen.’

‘Perhaps all this is down to hormones?’

James laughed, almost insulted at what he was hearing. ‘Yes, Father, because we don’t know how hormones work, right? We saw her change and quickly tied her down… This isn’t hormones.’

‘I’m sorry but, I’m not going to be able to help you.’ He side-stepped James and made his way down the stairs to where Maria was waiting in the living room. She came out, tears in her eyes. ‘I’m sorry but I can’t help you,’ he said again - unsure if she’d heard their conversation.

‘What? But you’re our last hope. Who else are we supposed to talk to?’

‘I would suggest a therapist. I can listen to problems, but I am not a therapist. And certainly not to a young lady whose own parents are saying she is possessed.’ He said again, ‘I’m sorry.’ He got to the front door. He didn’t wait for James or Maria to open it for him. Instead, he twisted the handle and pulled it open himself. He stepped out into the rain, leaving James and Maria standing there - no choice but to watch their final hope walk from their home.

Maria openly wept. James put his arms around her.

II

Emily hadn’t always  been like this. Once upon a time, she was a typical teenager. She would have her off days, as most teenagers do, but for the most part - she seemed to be well balanced. That’s what made this change even more shocking; it seemingly came out of nowhere. The viciousness and savagery with the way she spoke was like nothing James or Maria had heard before and, honestly, it scared them. They knew this wasn’t hormones. Anyone who knew Emily knew this wasn’t hormones. It was something else; something darker.

With the way Father Gabe had looked at James and Maria, they could have found themselves questioning their actions but they knew, deep down, that what they’d done - by restraining her to the bed - was for the best. Not just to protect themselves but to protect her too as, it wasn’t just her mum that Emily lashed out at. She scratched feverishly at her own skin too; screaming over and over that she could feel “it” inside. Those outbursts had been at the start of whatever episode this was. She used to scream that she could feel something inside her. She cried, saying that the voices were being cruel and tormenting her. And she begged them to make it stop. That day, the screaming changed. There was no more sorrow in her words, there was no more fear in her tone. All of that had disappeared, only to be replaced by what could only be described as hate. That was when her parents stopped Jake from going into the room. Soon after that, Jake’s father bought him the computer game; a way of taking him from this world whilst they figured things out and tried to fix his sister. A way of keeping him happy at least.

Emily was upstairs, tied to her bed.

Jake was playing his virtual reality game, doing whatever it was the game entitled him to do - not that James nor Maria fully understood it.

As for James and Maria, they were sitting in the dining room. Neither one of them talking to the other. She had a large glass of wine, cradled in her cupped hands and James was staring down at his glass of whiskey. Before all of this came about, he used to have his whiskey on the rocks. These days, he had it neat.

There was one question which frequently came to both of their minds and, until this evening, it was something neither had outwardly asked. It was Maria who brought it to the surface. ‘Is it something we’ve done?’

‘What do you mean?’ James knew exactly what she meant; he was just using delay tactics whilst he tried to find the right thing to say.

‘Could we have caused this?’

Were James and Maria the perfect parents? No. Were they the worst parents out there? Definitely not. Like all parents, they would make mistakes here and there but - nothing to turn their child into this. Both of their children knew they could go to their parents, if need be, both knew the difference between right and wrong and both were fairly presentable in their own right. Perfect children? No. But was there even such a thing? All James could say was, ‘We didn’t do this. Whatever is going on upstairs… This is not our fault.’ There was a small part of him which wondered whether it was drugs. She’d gone to a party with her best friend, Leah, and… That was when everything started to change. At least, to James’s memory it was the last time he could recall seeing Emily as her “normal” self. Within days of getting home from the party, her behaviour started to change. Of course, they’d asked if she had taken anything to drink, and she’d said she hadn’t. They asked about drugs and, again, she denied this. When asked about the party specifically, she clammed up. Her skin went pale - like she’d seen a ghost - and she said she didn’t want to talk about it.

‘Okay then, how do we fix it?’

James had no answer other than to say, ‘I guess we talk to the shrink.’ Father Gabe’s advice about seeking “therapy” hadn’t been the first time such direction had been given. James had been reluctant to seek out a counsellor though, in case whatever was said made it onto his daughter’s permanent record. A hope that this was nothing more than a weird phase. With how long it had been going on, and how her mood was getting progressively darker - it was clear it wasn’t a phase. She needed help. If said help could get the “old” Emily back, then - it was worth the risk of notes going on her permanent record. ‘I can phone around in the morning. See if there are any who will do a home-visit.’

Maria wasn’t happy with this but, like James, she knew they really were out of options. She downed her glass of wine. James downed his whiskey.

THE CURIOUS

Candyfloss was screaming at the character Jake was now playing as. On the side of the screen, it gave a list of options as to how he could torture the naked woman but - Jake wasn’t paying any attention. His mind wasn’t distracted by the female character’s naked form either, something which had caused him to get excited previously. He was sitting in the game world, thinking about his sister and the way everyone was being with him.

Jake knew why his parents had bought the game for him. They were trying to keep him quiet and, for an hour at least, it had worked but… In his head, he kept asking over and over - Why would they call the vicar in? How on earth could a vicar help his sick sister? It was during such thoughts he started to panic. There was a very real worry that she was dying, and the vicar had been brought in to talk about God and Heaven, in an effort to make her feel better. Jake had seen stuff like that in films before so, it made sense. Whilst he didn’t always get on with his older sister, he didn’t want her to die… He removed his headset. The screen inside, sensing no one was wearing the device, immediately turned black.

Jake was back in the real world, sitting on the edge of the bed. He set the headset on the mattress behind him and quietly walked over to his closed bedroom door. He took a hold of the handle and quietly twisted it round before pulling the door open a smidge. The hinges creaked and he froze.

In stark contrast to earlier when he went down for dinner, there was silence from the room across the landing. Instead of presuming she had fallen asleep, Jake immediately started to panic that she’d passed away already. But then, he couldn’t hear his mum and dad crying from anywhere? All he could hear was the television on down in the living room, where his parents had moved to. Mindless crap on the television - as per usual - in an effort to escape the cruelness of their day.

His mum and dad wouldn’t be watching television like that if his sister was dead. They’d be in her room, sitting with her body until someone came to take it away. Or they’d be crying someplace. Or they’d be knocking on his door to break the news to him. He should have felt better, knowing she wasn’t dead but - he still had that unpleasant, heavy, sinking feeling. Just because she wasn’t dead yet, it didn’t mean she wasn’t dying. And what if she was? He still wasn’t allowed to see her. He still didn’t get the opportunity to tell her he loved her, and to say goodbye? He might have been young but, he was old enough to understand this would be a moment to regret, for the rest of his life, if he didn’t get to see her one last time. Why would they stop him from having that chance? It didn’t make sense. It made even less sense that he wouldn’t be able to see her if she was sleeping either. She couldn’t say anything cruel; she couldn’t lash out and try and hurt him physically. He’d still be able to say what was on his mind and… He forced himself to stop thinking things through. Whether his mum and dad wanted him to see her or not - it didn’t matter. They weren’t here right now. They weren’t here to say he couldn’t.

Quietly, he crept across the landing and over to her closed door. From behind the wooden panels, the sound of silence. With a shaking hand, he reached to the handle and gripped it firmly in his sweaty fingers. He’d go in quietly; he wouldn’t wake her up. He’d watch over her whilst she slept, and he would think all the things he’d wanted to say to her… That way he felt like he’d seen her and got it off his chest, and he wouldn’t have disturbed her so - even if his mum and dad did find out - they couldn’t be mad.

Nervous of the state Emily was in behind the door, he twisted the handle and stepped inside the room.

II

Emily was staring straight at her brother. A sinister smile spread across her face and bottomless blackness in her eyes.

‘I’ve missed you,’ she said.

Jake didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected to find her awake, let alone sitting up (as much as her restraints allowed) staring straight at him, as though she’d been expecting his visit. What shocked him the most was how she looked. Her skin was pale and dry. Her lips, cracked from dehydration. Even from across the room he could see the flakes of skin hanging. Her hair, usually shining beautifully thanks to her love of shampoo, was greasy and knotted. She was a shell of his sister. Such was the shock of seeing her in this state, he was almost tempted to turn and run from the room. But what good would that have done? He’d come here to talk to her, to tell her how much he loved her before she went to Heaven.

‘Well? Have you not missed me too?’

He hesitated and then nodded.

‘Come in then.’

Without stepping another foot in, he told her, ‘Mum and dad have been keeping me away.’

She laughed. ‘Did you sneak in to see me?’

‘Yes. I thought you were sleeping, and I wanted to see you.’

‘Well, I’m not sleeping as you can see. And I’m happy to see you so… Why don’t you come in properly and sit with me for a while?’

‘Okay.’

Jake closed the door behind him and walked over to her bed. The sight of her restraints didn’t come as a surprise as he’d overheard his father admitting tying her down for her own protection. He didn’t like it though. He stood at the end of the bed.

‘You can come closer than that. Sit with me.’

Jake hesitated again. Cautiously he approached. Emily didn’t lunge for him, nor show any signs of aggression. She smiled, showing off a slime on the front of her teeth from where they’d not been brushed for some time. Jake perched himself on the edge of the bed and, for a moment, they sat in silence.

‘I’ve missed you,’ Emily said.

‘I’ve missed you too.’

Emily laughed. ‘Really? Even with all the times I have been horrible to you and pushed you away?’

Jake nodded. ‘Yes.’ He could barely look at her with her face as it was. Perhaps this was why his dad wanted to keep him away? He wanted the lasting memories of Emily to be happier for Jake. He wanted him to remember her as she was, not as she is. Jake didn’t regret coming into the room but, he wished he’d had a little more warning as to what to expect. It was his own fault for coming in without permission so, only himself to blame.

‘Well, I am sorry for all the times I had a bitch at you. Do you forgive me?’

Jake didn’t answer her. In truth, he didn’t really register what she’d said. Instead, he sat there with his own burning question desperately screaming from the forefront of his mind. Unable to hold it in any longer, he asked, ‘Are you going to die?’

Emily laughed. ‘Am I going to die? No. I’m not going to die. Why would you ask that?’

‘They brought a vicar in.’

‘Mum and dad got it wrong. Did you not see how quickly he left? Had I been dying; don’t you think he would have stayed longer?’

Jake shrugged. He didn’t know how any of this worked. The only time he’d really encountered death was in the games he played, or the programs he watched. He’d been shielded from death in the real world.

‘Do I look like I am dying?’

Jake looked at her. Unsure what to say - the truth, or a lie - he shrugged.

‘You don’t think I look good?’ Emily looked down her body. She’d long since kicked off the blanket covering her so - she was only laying there in her nightie. Just as her face was pale, so too were the other bits of exposed skin. ‘You don’t like how I look?’ Still looking down her body, Jake couldn’t help but to follow her gaze. The moment he did, she parted her legs. Instantly, his mind flashed back to images of Candyfloss in the Red Room; pictures in his mind only, minus the screaming. ‘Have you ever seen a naked woman before?’

THE DEVIL COMES

Embarrassed, Jake instantly turned away.

‘It’s okay. You don’t need to be shy.’

If only for false bravado, he said, ‘I’m not.’

‘So have you ever seen a girl naked?’

‘In my games.’

Emily laughed. ‘In real life?’

‘No. I’m only 9!’

‘You’re ten soon!’ Emily paused. The look on her face changed as the smile slowly disappeared. Lust took over. ‘You can look, if you want.’

‘No.’

‘I won’t tell if you don’t tell. Go on. Take a look.’

‘I don’t want to.’

Emily giggled. ‘I’m wearing panties. It’s okay.’

‘I don’t want to!’

‘If you loved me you’d look.’

Thoughts of Candyfloss still floated in Jake’s head as he imagined what it would be like if you looked up his sister’s nightie. Would it look the same? There was no denying that he liked looking at Candyfloss when she had her clothes removed in the game. At one point, he even missed the option as to how he wanted to torture her because he was too busy staring at her naked body. But - that was a computer game and whilst it was lifelike, it wasn’t real.

‘Please take a look for me.’

Jake hesitated a moment with his mind torn in two. On one hand, he wanted to run from the room. On the other… He leaned down and peered up her nightie. True enough, she was wearing white panties; a little stained from where they’d not been changed for a while. The gusset covered her vagina. To help her brother see better, Emily parted her legs as far as possible; a move which pulled at the underwear slightly, giving a faint hint of a bit of labia. Just as Jake had felt a funny stirring when playing the virtual reality game, he felt it now too.

‘You can pull them to the side if you want. Have a proper look at it.’

Again, Jake hesitated. He knew what he was doing was wrong but - only in that he knew his mum and dad would be angry with him if they caught him. They were downstairs though, their minds focused on whatever was on the television.

Emily reassured him. ‘It’s okay.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘It will help you in the future.’

‘It will?’

‘When you meet a girl you like, you won’t be nervous because you would have seen one.’

A couple of years ago, if that, Jake would have found all of this repulsive and run away. After all - girls had cooties. Today, he was more curious about the way of the world and - that included not finding girls as disgusting as he once did.

‘It’s okay. You’re probably not ready to look at one yet. I understand…’

‘No…’ Jake quickly repositioned himself on the edge of the bed so that he could get a better look between Emily’s legs. With a nervous, shaking hand he reached up and carefully pinched the edge of the gusset. Emily let out a little sigh as Jake pulled the fabric to the side, exposing her delicate little vagina. He said nothing. He just sat there, staring at it with his mind racing at a million miles per hour.

‘Did you want to touch it?’

Jake felt uncomfortable between his legs as his penis pressed against his pants; much the same way it had done when he first glimpsed Candyfloss laying before “him”. Even so, he couldn’t help but nod. He did want to touch it, just as he’d wanted to reach out “for real” when he was playing the virtual reality game his parents had got him.

‘You can touch it.’

Without really knowing what to do, Jake clumsily started prodding at Emily’s vagina with one finger. Emily sighed in fake-pleasure, giving her brother all the signs that he was doing something right and how much she was enjoying it.

‘That feels nice. Do you like how it feels?’

‘Yes.’

Emily started to giggle. Unsure why, Jake stole his gaze away from between her legs and up to her face. She was staring at the small bulge in the front of his pants. ‘And what’s that?’

Embarrassed, Jake quickly grabbed a piece of the blanket and put it over his lap. ‘It’s nothing.’

Emily teased him. ‘It’s okay. I know what it is. You don’t have to hide it. I’ve seen them before.’

‘You have?’

Emily nodded. ‘May I see yours?’

‘I don’t want to show you.’

‘You’ve seen and touched me. That’s not very fair if I can’t see you, is it?’

‘I don’t want to…’

‘I’ll have to tell mum and dad that you tricked me.’

‘What? But I didn’t! You said you wouldn’t tell!’

‘Well, I guess I lied.’

‘Please don’t!’ Jake knew he’d be grounded for a long time if she told his mum and dad about what he’d done. Especially if she pretended she hadn’t asked him in the first place. On the verge of crying in his panicked state, he said, ‘I’ll show you, but you can’t tell mum and dad.’

‘If you show me, I won’t tell them.’

‘Promise?’

‘Pinky promise.’

Reluctantly, but with little choice, Jake threw back the blanket. He lifted his bottom off the edge of the bed and pulled his pants down to show his hairless cock standing to attention.

Emily smiled. ‘It’s cute.’

‘It is?’

‘I wish I could touch it.’ She pulled at her restraints. They didn’t budge. ‘Do you know what feels really nice?’

‘What?’

‘Have you ever played with it?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Have you ever wrapped your fingers around it and stroked it up and down?’

Jake frowned. ‘No.’

‘You should try it. I think you’ll be surprised as how nice it feels.’ When Jake didn’t immediately move, Emily urged him, ‘Go on. Use your best hand and, with your other hand you can touch me again. I promise it will feel nice.’

Jake didn’t know what to do but, at the same time, he didn’t want to not do as she said. The worry of her talking to their parents still fresh in his mind. With his right hand, he gripped his little man, and, with his left, he started to poke at her vagina again. Immediately, she started with the fake-sighs of pleasure. As Jake slowly, with uncertainty, pumped at his penis - he too started to sigh, genuinely surprised at how nice it felt.

‘How does that feel?’

‘It’s nice.’

Emily smiled. ‘I told you. Now, do you know what would feel really nice?’

SCREAMS

James and Maria were used to the sounds that came from upstairs. When Emily first started “changing”, her cries sounded similar to that of a wounded animal, desperately trying to get help. Over time the cries and screaming changed. The fear disappeared. In the fear’s place, everything that came from Emily’s mouth was filled with bitter hatred and toxic venom. What Father Gabe had been subjected to was merely the icing on the cake for how nasty she could be.

Just because James and Maria were used to the screams, it didn’t make them any easier to hear. Gone were the days of trying to subdue her. Instead, they did more to try and mute the sounds out. Television volume was increased, music was played throughout the house, noise-cancelling headphones were worn to bed. None of what they did muted the noises entirely but, it helped a little and - their brains did the rest to make it more bearable. With the noises from the room being almost constant, their brains had gotten so used to it that it did its best to block the remaining sounds out too. It wasn’t an ideal living situation for anyone but, with no one offering help and James’s earlier reluctance to get therapists involved - it was the best that they could do.

Now, watching the television, James’s mind was more focused on how all of this had been handled than it was to the noises coming from upstairs; the constant banging of the headboard, as though Emily was trying to get their attention. The animalistic grunts - another new noise to add to the ever-growing sound bank of their damaged daughter.

James was thinking back to the moment they approached Father Gabe. Such was his reluctance to get the mental health team involved, he’d been more willing to believe in demonic possession before science. Looking back, it could have been amusing that he’d gone down such a route first if it wasn’t for the fact it was so tragic. What made it worse was, he’d pretty much convinced Maria that the Church of England had been the better choice in regard to finding help. Now he was sitting there, unable to truly focus on what was happening on screen, thinking what a fool he’d been. Worse than that though - he was questioning how much suffering he’d inadvertently caused his daughter by delaying getting the real professionals onboard. Would she have been “fixed” (or on the way at least) had he accepted help from therapists and such when it was first offered? He tried to push such thoughts from his mind as they didn’t help anyone, least of all himself. He was having a hard enough time dealing with all of this without adding another layer of guilt over the top too. As such, he kept his thoughts to himself. Maria didn’t need to know.

Maria had her head in a book. Some fantasy story to take her away from the shitty reality they all faced. At least she was able to focus on the words. James was almost envious. He picked up the television’s controller and killed the power. ‘I think I’m going to…’ Before he finished the sentence, to say he was going to bed for an early night, both he and Maria couldn’t help but hear Emily’s screams. These were not the hate-filled screams they’d grown accustomed too. They sounded more like their daughter - before all of this… Back when she used to sound scared.

James leapt up and dashed from the room to see what was happening. Maria followed just as quickly, with a fear of her own as to what they were going to find this time.

II

The bedroom door swung open with so much force it bounced off the wall, leaving a mark in the paint. James yelled, ‘What the fuck are you doing?!’ Maria came round the corner and screamed too, not that the noise had any words hidden within.

They’d been confronted by the sight of their son on top of his sister. His penis as deep inside as a tiny little pecker could be. She was screaming - not from pleasure, or pain, but disgust and fear. As she strained against the restraints she screamed over and over, ‘Get him out of me! Get him out of me!’ Her skin, no longer as pale as it once was. Her eyes, filled with more soul than they’d had for a long time now.

James ran over to the bed. He grabbed Jake by the legs and pulled him away from his sister. As his son’s prick slipped from the mouth of his daughter’s vagina, it spat a final stringy shot of semen over her lips. The first dribble of the initial shot trickled out of her hole as she continued screaming. ‘What have you done?!’

With his legs still gripped tightly by his furious father, Jake spun his upper body round to face his dad. When James saw his son’s face, he released his grip on Jake’s legs and fell back in shock. All innocence lost.

The boy’s face was contorted, aged by at least sixty years. His eyes - once blue - were black and soulless. His teeth, yellowed-stained and sharpened to a point. His tongue, two inches longer and forked. James yelled in terror as his “son” lunged for him.

Human-meat on his brain now, Jake sank his razored teeth into his dad’s face as both Emily and Maria screamed. As Jake’s powerful jaw clamped shut, the front of James’ face peeled off as easily as the skin of a succulent peach, and just as moist. In a frenzied attack, Jake continued biting down on his dad’s face until there was only the back half of the head remaining, tissue on display, with the back half of the brain.

Maria had long since turned and run. Her legs wouldn’t stop carrying her until she was half-way down the street, out of breath but - mercifully out of Jake’s reach… Slowly, Jake turned to his sister who was still screaming. He licked his “meal’s” left overs clean from his lips with a single swipe of his forked tongue. His beady eyes fixed upon a different kind of snack; a tasty little pie, complete with cream.

Jake pounced.

- End