Write = Get Reviews Forum My first chapter

robert forster	My first chapter 9 Years Ago Day 1 - 30th November - 19.50 I’m lying on my side facing the bedroom wall with one eye open. Praying that he'll leave me alone tonight. Footsteps from the hallway, stop outside my room the door handle turns. Hug my blanket tight, pretend I'm asleep. I know that he's come in, floorboards creak. My blanket gets pulled back he lays down behind me. Whispering for me to be quiet, stay still. I'm trying not to shake as he places his hand on my shoulder, onto my chest sliding down to my stomach. My iPhone beeps loudly it’s a text from Susan, must have dozed off had a late night. I wish I didn’t drift off like that, it’s frustrates the hell out of me. “Have you started yet?” Check the time it's ten past seven. “Gonna start now. I'll text when I'm inside” Sat in the dark isolation of my car, heavy rain drums against the misted windows. Parked nearby his house, three people have passed by none of them have noticed me. My Dell laptop sits on the passenger seat sounds like a hummingbird as it starts up. I logged into his wireless router about 45 minutes ago, it never fails to surprise me how many people stick with their default logins it makes things easier for me so I’m not going to complain. I walked past his house when I first got here holding my phone as if I was reading a text message checking it was definitely his Wi-Fi. I've been hacking networks since I was a teenager, what started off as a hobby turned into a full time job as an IT Security Consultant. It takes less than five minutes to reset his router, change the settings so that only my laptop can access the internet rendering the router useless for anybody but me. Now I just need to wait for ten more minutes, then it’s time to pretend. Check the news on my phone, tap the stirring wheel. I cannot stand waiting. Pull my hood up as I get out the car, quickly look around, the terraced road's empty. Open the boot pull out a high-vis vest which I slip over my jacket, place the laptop into a large holdall then go to his door and ring the doorbell ID card ready. “Hello, can I help you?” He's dressed in dark blue lounge pants and a white T-Shirt. “Are you Mr Thomas?” He nods back at me looking slightly confused “I’m from Lakeland Telecoms. I've been working in the telecoms cabinet at the end of the road and I think it might have affected your internet and telephone line” I show him my ID card. “I’ve just been speaking to a couple of the neighbours and I had to reset their equipment. Sorry for knocking at this time, but we had a late call out.” “I was just about to call the support line because my internet went off about 15 minutes ago. Is it something I can do? I've already switched it off and on but it’s not made any difference” “No, it won’t make any difference, the lines have been upgraded. I need to reinstall the memory on your router I have a flash card here but if it’s inconvenient I can arrange an appointment?” He hesitates for a couple of seconds mulling it over. “No, don’t worry, it's fine come in” He opens his door and steps aside. I enter his house, it's like walking into a sauna, the heat’s overwhelming central heating must be on full. Pale green carpet in the hallway looks well-worn and stained, hideous vertical blue, green and gold striped wallpaper makes me feel like I've gone back in time to the 80’s. “Can I take your coat?” “If you don’t mind, it’s a bit wet, sorry” I put down my holdall and take my coat off. “Don’t worry its fine, would you like a cup of tea to warm you up?” “No thanks, just a water will do if you don’t mind?” He’s nothing like I imagined not your average bearded shifty looking pervert. A couple of inches smaller than me, podgy and out of shape. He looks tired his blue eyes are bloodshot they seem to look in 2 directions at once. I notice he has what looks like a small mouth on the back of his bald head where his skin creases as he walks away from me into his kitchen. “Here you go” I take the glass of water and drink it down in one go the heat in the car has dried my throat. “Thanks. Can you show me where the router is please?” “It’s upstairs in the spare room” My heart starts to beat a little faster, my mind racing. ”Just in here” he flicks the light switch. The small room has a large desk with a computer underneath and a flat screen monitor sat on top. “The router's just behind this box” He kneels down next to the desk and starts to pull out a cardboard box. All the while I can feel the thick wooden cosh inside my pocket waiting for the right opportunity. Which is right about now. He’s pulling the box across the floor. The scenes already played out inside my mind I hold the cosh tight pulling it out my pocket, swivel my torso clockwise my arm behind my waist. Leading with my shoulder putting as much weight into the swing as I can without losing balance, aiming for the top of his head. I hear a dull thud as it smashes against his skull he falls in an instant sprawling across the floor. I can feel the veins on the side of my forehead throb. Text to Susan “Sorted” “I'll be there soon will text when I’m outside” Pull on a pair of rubber gloves I need to focus stay sharp. Roll him onto his back, his chest is moving up and down. Quickly check the other rooms. The bathroom smells of stale piss and has a pale green plastic bathroom suite. What is about the green? His bedroom has a large wardrobe which almost takes up half the room and a double bed with green bloody bedding. I pull the curtains closed and go back to get him. He’s not as heavy as I thought as I drag him into the bedroom, lifting him to the bed. Pull a couple of heavy duty cable ties out of my pocket wrap them around his ankles and wrists I need something to keep him quiet. Check the drawers find a pair of rolled up socks, which I squeeze into his mouth pulling a belt from a dressing gown that hangs from the back of the door, tie this around his head. It’ll do for the time being he’s well out of it. I haven’t seen anything to suggest that anybody else lives here, just the one bed no ladies touch or anything to suggest otherwise. The small terraced house smells, a weird combination of damp and stale food which gets stronger as I go downstairs, the wallpaper offends me. The hallway leads to the kitchen which in contrast to the green hallway is mostly sky blue. I need to check the cupboards see if I can find something to help me, quickly open each cupboard find what I'm looking for in the cupboard under the sink. A large bottle of turpentine. Pull the blinds closed, back door locked. I need to find what I came here for the conversations he had with Susan laid it on pretty thick. Time to dig. Carry my hold-all and turpentine upstairs, check in with him he hasn’t budged. Boot up his computer using my flash disk, reset his password. I log on as Stephen his desktop is sparse he has a picture of Mickey Mouse set as his background. Click on the browser and open his favourites quickly scan the list one of the sites catch my eye ‘www.justchat.co.uk’ let’s click on this. The site loads up displaying his username ‘john21blue’ which confirms what I already knew, that this is definitely him. Susan’s been chatting with him for the past 4 months. Dig a little deeper. Check the browser history most of its standard stuff, although there are some date gaps, he's probably been private browsing. I'll just run a search instead, search for all image files including hidden folders. The screen starts to fill with small icons I flick through the first couple of pages which are mostly harmless, but as I page down I notice children's faces, children's bodies most of them semi-naked as I page down they become fully naked, pages and pages of them. No matter how much I try to prepare myself and plan ahead nothing can prepare me for this. The images turn my stomach I have to stop myself from throwing up there's well over 7000 images and that's just in one drive I flick through a couple more pages, it's all I can manage they range from full frontal nudity to full on sexual acts some of the children look as young as 2 to 3 years of age. Turn away can’t cope my stomach tightens up I feel dizzy. Close my eye and count to ten. The back of my head feels wet I rub my scalp it's bone dry. I want to kill him, I want to rip his f***g throat out. My phone beeps "I'm here" stand up, turn the screen off I need to get away. The room's spinning. I go downstairs the wallpaper seems to be moving like the walls are breathing my hand shakes as I open the door. Susan stands in the doorway like a soaking wet scarecrow She rushes past. "Are you Ok? You look like st" she knows that I'm rattled like she senses how I feel. "It’s the pictures I couldn’t deal with them, they're so f***g sick" I try to block them out. "Why did you look at them?" She replies. "I was checking to see if it was definitely him, it just got worse the more I looked" "You need to get a grip of yourself, isn't this why you’re here?" This is why I love Susan, she's always straight to the point. No bullshit. "I know I'll be Ok, it just fs me up how anyone can get kicks of looking at kids that way" "Take a deep breath you’re here for a reason Tom try to remember that" She shakes her head like a soaking wet dog, takes her coat off but keeps on her leather gloves. "Did anyone see you?" "Do you want a slap? I’m always careful "She snaps back at me "So where's the dirty b**d?" "Upstairs he didn’t put up much of a fight, but I didn’t really give him a chance" She follows me upstairs and into the bedroom. He still hasn’t budged. "Well he looks nothing like his profile picture" She pulls out her phone and unlocks it. "I don’t even think the picture's him? He looks nothing like that?" She hands me her phone. The man in the picture has a full head of hair and looks quite slim. "There's no chance he's 21 he looks about 30 have you found his wallet?" "No I've just been on his computer" "Why are these men so desperate? I just knew he wasn’t right. I told him from the start that I was 14 and played along. He kept saying that I was his special girl asking me if I was a virgin and if I’d kissed many boys. Makes my skin crawl" "I know, I don’t think I'll ever understand what kicks they get from this type of stuff, but I do know one thing I'm going to enjoy hurting him. Why don’t you take a look around see what you can find". I go back into the spare room and fold down the aluminium chair it looks like one of those director’s chairs it’s sturdy so it'll be fine for what I need it for. Carry the chair into the bedroom, I need more space I like to move around. Shove the bed against the wall that’s better. He still hasn’t budged even when I moved the bed, but I can hear him breathing like he's in a deep sleep. His head lolls around like a new born baby as I lift him from the bed and place him into the chair. I try to push him as far back as I can to stop him from sliding out. I get my holdall and put it on the floor. Grab a pair of cable cutters, clip the cable ties from around his wrists, his arms fall to his side. I need to order some more handcuffs I only have two pairs left. Pull his arms behind the chair, cuff them together. I always find that the legs normally cause me a problem. I need to learn a good technique for tying somebody up. I settle with cable ties two for each leg attached to the chair legs, if he starts to struggle I can always restrain him. The makeshift gag will be fine, there's no point in putting a blindfold on him I want him to see what I'm doing. Now it's time for the technical stuff. I noticed that he had a printer which I can put to good use. Highlight five pictures, it’s not difficult to find disturbing ones, most of them are sick. I don’t flinch this time my minds set on what I need to do. Print the pictures, which I pin to the wall either side of his eye line. The pictures serve three purposes I want him to see why this is happening to him. I want the police or whoever finds him to understand why this happened and finally it serves as further inspiration to me. Not that I need any. Take the laptop and webcam from my holdall place them on the set of drawers. Adjust the webcam, point it towards Stephen. I want the camera to see me from behind, don’t want to give too much away. I'm almost ready to start, sometimes I wonder if it’s worth all the hassle, but what's the point in just killing a pervert? What would be the point in that? The world would be rid of another sick b*d, but would anyone really care? I want people to see this, I want an audience, I want the sick ones to fear me. I open an IRC client and login to a couple of random chat rooms. Susan comes back into the room. “Did you find anything?” “I found his wallet with his driving licence, he did lie about his age, he’s 26 but you got his name spot on his full name is Stephen George Thomas" “Did you see the pictures?” “Only the ones on the wall, the sick b*d make sure he suffers” She replies. Are you staying around I’m going to wake him now” I kneel down and place my tools in a row at Stephen’s feet. Put a pad and marker pen next to them. “I’ll stay for a bit longer” She sits on the edge of the double bed and pulls out her phone the blanket just about creases she rarely eats, looking at Susan from behind at her skinny frame, you could assume that she was a teenage girl but looking at her dark eyes you see her real age. I reach for my balaclava and pull it over my bald head the wool itches. Quickly check everything’s where it should be, check the webcam through the browser its fine. Click the broadcast button, highlight and copy the IP address. Switch to the IRC and paste the address into a couple of chat rooms. Within a few minutes three people are viewing the webcam. I close my eyes and focus my mind on what needs to be done. Hold a bottle of smelling salts under his nose, let him breathe in the fumes. Prod his head which rocks back and forth, no response. Slap the side of his head impatiently “Come on wake up” he starts to stir. Rolling his head, eyes squinting. I slap him hard across his face, he stares back at me shocked. Moving his shoulders up and down struggling to break free. His moans are muffled, breathing sharply through his nose. “Don’t struggle this won’t take long” I kneel down and grab a hammer and chisel, dig the chisel tip into the thick muscle above his left kneecap. He struggles, his leg moving from side to side. I can feel the anger rising. “Stop f*g struggling” I demand. Dig the chisel deep into his leg almost ripping his pants. His eyes begging me for mercy. I softy tap the hammer against the top of the chisel, he whines like a scolded dog. "What's the matter? Would you like me to stop?" He nods back at me. "Do you know why this is happening to you?" He shakes his head. "Really?" I turn my head towards the pictures. "You like these pictures do you?" He's crying, shaking his head. "Do you touch yourself looking at these? I can smell piss, he’s pissed himself. Dirty fr. "What's wrong? Are you scared?" He nods "Do you think that these children where scared?" In a swift movement I hammer the chisel, smashing it deep into his thigh under his kneecap. I swear that I can hear it pop. His scream is muffled, eyes open wide the terror of the situation written in a frozen expression. I let go of the chisel it stays firmly rooted. "Did these kids beg for mercy do you think?" I grab another chisel digging the sharp edge deep into his right thigh. Bring the hammer down straight away, no teasing this time but the chisel doesn’t go straight in. He shifted his leg causing the chisel to go straight through the thick muscle at the end of his thigh, blood bursts from the rip in his leg. "I told you not to move" I wonder how many people have logged in. Check the browser 43 people are watching Write a message for the people watching over the internet. Hold the pad in front of the webcam for a couple of seconds. “This man's SICK he needs YOUR help” I drop the pad and quickly turn, my mind racing I see everything at once. Reach down for one of the chisels, stab it hard into his shoulder "You really are a sick fk" twist as it penetrates the muscle. Let go, the chisel falls onto his chest, still partially buried. Stephen’s face has turned a deeper shade of red, his head rolling around, tears and sweat streaming down his face. Step back and watch as blood spreads over his white T-Shirt. I feel myself start to drift. The explicit images burn into my mind. Sick f**k. I grab the chisel from his shoulder and thrust it deep and hard just under his ribcage, there’s little resistance. Pull it out, stab back in again through his stomach. I feel detached like my hands belong to someone else they become a blur. In and out, in and out, over and over again blood starts to flood. His stomach ripped apart like a butchered animal. The colour's draining from his face, his chin resting on his chest, breathing deeply gasping for breath, his life slipping away. I step aside so the webcam can embrace the entire scene of this pervert slowly bleeding to death. Grab the quilt and sheets from the bed, place them around his feet, keep one of the sheets separate near the doorway. Open the bottle of turpentine, pour some over his head and the bedding, the fluid merges with his blood and sweat. Susan's left I was too caught up in the moment to even notice. Stephen's unconscious which is probably for the best. Give him some small mercy. Tear a length of sheet which I light up, for a very brief moment time seems to stand still. The burning sheet appears to fall in slow motion. Flames spread quickly crawling up Stephen’s legs, embracing his body the flames cover him within seconds. He appears to struggle his body seems to be caving in under the pressure and strain that its been put through. Convulsions force him to shake uncontrollably. I unplug the webcam, the shows over. Close the laptop, pack it away along with the webcam and tools. Take the balaclava off, wipe the sweat from my forehead. I can smell his flesh and clothes burning it's a foul stench. The flames fascinate me they smother Stephen’s body, he shakes and sways finally slumping as the flames burnt intensely. I need to move quickly, pick up the hold-all and sheet. I trickle the turpentine down the stairs as I make my way down. Go into the kitchen turning the knobs on the cooker they hiss like angry snakes. Pour the remainder of the fluid over the sheet which I set alight and throw into the kitchen. Head for the front door picking the glass up that I drank from can't leave any clues. I look out of the small window at the side of the door, no movement. Open the door pull my hood up, creep off into the night. Driving back to my hotel, the passing cars and city lights are a blur. I need to prepare for tomorrow I have a busy day scheduled. The only problem I have is that I’m too wired to sleep. I might need a sedative of some sort.
brezybaby3	Re: My first chapter 9 Years Ago you had a great story right up to the point the torture started. then I personally had to stop reading. If you had just set the house on fire with him tied up that would have been sufficient for me. Technically, it is a very stilted read. Need more description and less telling.
Phil M	Re: My first chapter 9 Years Ago Once I'd started reading this story I was compelled to carry on to the end, even though violence at this level is not my sort of thing. For me it seemed as though Susan is the instigator of Stephan Thomas being identified, found, then murdered. Assuming Mr. Thomas never came in contact with any of the children in the pictures he had on his computer, and never actually met Susan, then, him being murdered is by far the greater of crimes committed in your story. I would read further chapters just to find where it leads from this point. You have described a character who, with his knowledge and experience of IT, and a hate for people like Mr Thomas, as surely given you plenty of mileage to carry on writing this story. It could progress in a number of ways I reckon. Where will it it end, is what your readers will really be thinking. And, have we got the nerve to read it then! Hope you don't mind me saying, but you may be using double quotation marks where single quote marks would be better, from my understand of their use. This is important as there is a lot of conversation in the story when Susan is in the house. Reading the story out loud to yourself or a friend might also help with how it reads in places. I can understand what is happening in the first paragraph set in italics, but why is it there, is it a dream the central figure is having before being woken by his iPhone?. A cracking story though, from beginning to end. Well done mate.