“I'm fucked I'm buggered I'm fucked... and it don't feel good!” I cried down the phone to Verity. “That ginger-turd Brian has the fucking book! He came strolling by last night with it, taunting me, letting me know my freedom is attached to a chain he's fucking holding. Oh, God... this is a tragedy. Oh fucking God.”

Verity was silent, it seemed she was listenening to my anguish, maybe waiting for the right time to interrupt it, maybe searching for the right words.

“So Brian has the book... So what? I mean, in the back they were just throwaway sketches right? No talk of dismemberment or window boxes or anything like that? You assured me. Just a few silly sketches and notes of taking John out with drain cleaner, rat poison etc. If that's the truth you're not fucked or buggered! Imagine the giant leap of imagination required to go from a few sketches to actually thinking you've killed John! You're paranoid, really, panicking.... or you lied?”

“Lied? About the sketches? What was in them? No, I told you the fucking truth!!! Every damn word of it, and I'll show you if I get the book back. The closest any sketch came to what really happened was the one where I offed John by putting his head in with the filthy ashtray he used to leave overflowing in the bedroom. But that was sheer coincidence and there was no mention of dismemberment or window boxes or any such thing! There wasn't. As for panicking, I don't think I am. Why on earth would Brian pass the house reading the book, letting me know he has it? If he thought nothing of it it would not even be an issue. No, the little cockslurper is suspicious, he knows something's not quite right. That's it, and with the book he's showing me: I think this, and you drew that, and I'm starting to think these innocent sketches may not be so fucking innocent after all! That's what he was doing! That's the message he was giving out.”

“Or just trying to rattle your cage? Kinda saying: look, I know a pathetic length like you is not capable of murder, but I've evidence here that could suggest otherwise, make your life hell with the authorities! If he really thought you had done something Tristram, and he despises you as much as you say he does, he would have already shopped you to the cops, no?”

“Not necessarily, no. Maybe he just come back across it? Maybe its only just clicked? Maybe he wants to draw it out, make me suffer to the hilt, let me see and study the face of my executioner? He's like that. A real sadistic little fuck. Even his cock has evolved to punish people, promising so little at first and then swelling to a size that would rip an elephants arse in two! That's his game. No, I'm gonna have to do something drastic... something outrageous to get that book out his filthy little hands. Without it it's just his word. Yes, I'm going take my revenge on Brian, for everything he's done, the trouble he's caused and the ordeals he put me through playing masochist to John's orchestration. Oh, just you watch what will happen if that fucking shitstalk passes by with that book tonight... and I hope he does. I really hope he does!!!”

Verity seemed distant. I could hear she was still there, still listening, but she was somehow detached as if she couldn't believe the incredible things that were coming out my mouth. When she finally spoke she seemed nervous, as if something had gone badly wrong.

“What d'you mean by all that?” she asked “Taking revenge... getting the book back... if you see him tonight? What are you thinking Tristram... what the hell is going on in your crazy head? God, you're talking like you'll abduct him, or... or bash him over the head and drag him in yours!”

“And maybe I will. Maybe that's exactly what I'll do!” I spat. “Maybe that IS the only answer. Maybe this road I've taken is never-ending, repetitive and the only way to secure my longterm freedom is to dispose of the people who are a threat to it. After all, that's why I disposed of John: I didn't want to be put away. I done it out of desperation...”

“Tristram, look. LISTEN!!! You must not do anything to Brian if he passes tonight, you got that? D'you hear me? You must not confront him AT ALL, that's what will get you caught! Brian's messing with you... trying to put the shits up you. Believe me, he's nothing on you, it's a bluff...'

“A bluff? He strolled by here with the fucking book, the book John had given him, the same one I'd scrawled fucking murder plans in! How can it be a bluff, how?”

Verity was silent again. For a moment I thought I had pissed her off, that she was going to go into a tirade of how selfish I was, lambast me for becoming so animated just because it concerned my own freedom. I gave her 'the eyes' down the phone and secretly cursed her for being so morally just. That's when she said:

“You want to know how it can be a bluff, huh? Well, I'll tell you: Brian doesn't have the fucking book: I DO!”

On those words I flushed pale. My heart fought around like Houdini. The wall began to move. My face was trembling and cracking up. I let the receiver fall and never managed to pick it back up.


  1. Whaaaat?


    Your electricity better not go off again before we get to the bottom of this!

  2. Mrs Winthrope: Going back to the night the discovery of the book was first mentioned, it was after John had thrown his wheelchair battery through the window. Verity arrived and John started accusing Tristram of planning to jill him. He said he had found a book with sketches in. The book disappeared that night, John wanting a safe, third party to guard it. Verity was there, not Brian. It seems John gave it to her, that's she's had it all along. What Brians got will be e xplained in the next post. X

    Wildernesschic: If it'll go in floppy, I will! lol X

  3. LOL Tristy, I meant fuck me thats good.. and Fuck me you are in a mess.
    I would never ask you to do something so abhorrent,
    I had a raging temperature when I read it, I have not been reading posts too ill, but just had to check in on you.
    I repeat Fuck me LOL xx

  4. I said it before, I'll say it again: that kid is a little shit.


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