Depravity (14 page)

The man then shocked Kevin senseless by throwing something else at him. Kevin just about managed to catch it before the package smacked him in the forehead. Kevin turned the clear plastic Tupperware dish around in his fingers. All of a sudden the horrible man was being nice to him? He looked up silently questioning the unexpected gift of food, only to discover the man in front of him smiling.

“What's with the gawking, Shitbag? Anybody would think that I never feed you.” He screwed up his face. “I hope you're not thinking that?”

Kevin violently shook his head, not wanting the bastard to take this prize out of his hands.”

“No, of course you're not. Stop pulling a face then. You look like a dead fish. I expect you to eat all of that. Believe me, you're going to need your strength. The man picked up the end of the hose and rolled it up, making his way towards the open shed door.

Kevin continued to turn the box around, watching the contents tumble. Through the frosted plastic, he saw a packet of crisps, a blue packet. That meant salt and vinegar. His favourite. He looked up, watching the man's huge bulk block out the afternoon sun, wondering why he was suddenly being so nice to him. There was an apple in there too, as well as a, what he hoped, were some sandwiches, wrapping up in aluminium foil. He moved away from the soaked stone floor and sat down on his old overturned metal bucket.

Just unclipping the plastic lid brought back so many pleasant, nostalgic memories. Back when he was a lot younger, his mother always used to give him a box, just like this at lunchtime. He was even allowed to eat the contents whilst he sat on her knee. He could still remember the warm feel of her ponderous breasts on the back of his head as he tucked into his apple, or slurped on his fruit juice.

There would be no cushion of warm flesh to comfort him on this occasion. Not that he was all that bothered, just the fact that could actually eat some normal food for change gave him enough contentment. There was only so much human meat he could stomach.

His father had even put in a snack-size packet of biscuits as well! In his excitement, Kevin hadn't noticed them until now. His smile grew wider and he almost forgave his father for the wet punishment he'd just endured when Kevin found the man had packed in his favourite, a single packet of custard creams. The cautious part of him, examined the plastic, just to make sure that they hadn't been tampered with.

He carefully unwrapped the foil to reveal two sandwiches, each one sliced diagonally. The cuts were just perfect. Had his father really taken the time to prepare this? He wasn't exactly the most dainty of men. He kind of imagined his father slicing these in two with a huge axe, still coated with the wet gore from his last victim.

They looked rather splendid. His rumbling stomach agreed and told him to eat them and be quick about it. His crisps and biscuits could wait until later. He knew full well that if he didn't obey his body, there would be no serious thinking, no pondering as to why his father had been so nice to him all of a sudden.

He first poked his forefinger through the tuna mayonnaise, probing for unwanted added ingredients like ground glass or bits of metal.

It took him just seconds to demolish all four sandwich sections. He even licked a few bits of tuna trying to escape out of the foil. This was so strange, since when did his dad become the ultimate sandwich maker? It pained him to admit that the fat man's sandwiches were light years better than what she used to create for him, back before they both went through the change.

Just the right amount of mayonnaise, a pinch of salt and plenty of good quality butter on the whole-wheat bread. The only thorn in this otherwise splendid meal was when Kevin noticed the dried blood under his fingernails. It brought back the annoying reminder that despite this bonus meal, the forlorn hope that his dad had somehow regressed back to before. This food was just a flash in the pan, never to be repeated.

Kevin dug around the detritus on the floor, grinning when he found the broken end of a wooden peg. It didn't take him that long to clean out the remains of Mrs Kirkwood. He didn't want any of her to contaminate the rest of his food. The fact that his dad probably made those sandwiches still dripping with the old woman's juices had occurred to Kevin but as far as he saw it, as he hadn't been present, there was no way of knowing so he didn't let it worry him.

The biscuits stayed in the box while he pulled open the crisp packet. He couldn't help himself, Kevin just had to taste the crisps.

This food gift had to be a temporary peace offering, a carrot before the fat man showed him the stick. Kevin filled his mouth with crisps, not even wishing to contemplate what form the stick could be. Could it be as bad as what his dad had done to that woman?

Mrs Kirkwood had awoken at precisely four this morning. That's when his dad used the master key to enter the room, with Kevin following his dad inside.

She had never been the most compliant of guests. On her first night, the woman had requested a different room, complaining of a strange odour that just wouldn't go away no matter what she tried. Mrs Kirkwood did look most upset and throughout the whole episode, she wouldn't stop apologising to his mum or his dad.

From his usual position behind the reception desk, he watched everything, he especially enjoyed how both his parents so tried to keep their tempers in check. Did the old woman know just how close she had come to dying right there and then? Nothing could be done though, there were other people present, also, it really wasn't the woman's fault. If there was a bad smell then that would be his parents fault for not cleaning out the room properly. He actually felt sorry for the poor woman.

That pity turned to bemusement and then soon shifted to annoyance the next morning.

His dad had allowed him to leave the cellar a full hour before breakfast. Even before Angela had awoken. This meant he could sit on his usual spot and watch all the fun and games involving the woman who wanted to change her rooms.

Mrs Kirkwood complained about the hard chair in the dining room. She complained that her egg wasn't soft enough, she even accused the Patterson family, sitting at the table next to her, that one of them had put salt in her coffee. To top it all, the woman even found the time to stand up and announce to the rest of the guest doing their best to ignore her that this just had to be the worst hotel she'd stayed in.

Kevin watched the proceedings with great interest. He so enjoyed people watching. Her posture told him that this woman expected to leave this hotel without paying, that the hotel owners would do anything to keep her happy and appeased.  He got the impression that she did this kind of thing often. Kevin placed his elbows on the desk and settled his head between his hands, while mentally projecting the image of what his dad had done to the entire Brown family. They were the ones who stayed in the room last. Apart from the little girl, the rest of them were now hung in the walk in freezer. Both he and Angela had eaten that girl whilst she was still fresh.

No matter how hard he projected that thought, the silly woman refused to pick it up. He silently sighed, knowing he'd done his part in trying to help her out. Was she even aware that she had signed her own death warrant? He didn't even need to watch his dad's left hand clench and unclench to know that she wouldn't live to see another day.

It was the whole irony of the situation that put a smile on Kevin's face. Mrs Kirkwood would have been one of the rare individuals allowed to leave the hotel unharmed. Waking up to discover Kevin wearing a dress five sizes too big for him leaning over her head must have been a bit of a shock for the woman.

Not as much of a shock as having a huge hand clamped over her mouth, followed by a rabbit punch in the guts. Through what must have felt like a nuclear explosion going off in her stomach, she heard no hissing, no snarling or gloating. Both of them worked with speed. Aware of the incredible risk factor in transporting their target out of the designated public areas.

They secured tape over her mouth and bound her wrists and ankles, before slipping a draw string cloth bag over the woman's head. The woman didn't weigh that much but this advantage was offset by her wriggling like she was on fire.

His dad punched her again then slung her now still body over his shoulder while Kevin softly opened her door.

The fat man accused Kevin of being over cautious, telling him that moving the targets into a safe area had never presented any problem. Even if one of the bunnies were light sleepers or suffered from insomnia, and just happened to walk out at the exact moment when they were moving a body, so what?

It just meant more flesh to play with.

He pushed Kevin out of the way and trampled along the carpet, making no attempt to soften his movements, while Kevin stood there, his hand still gripping that metal handle, terrified that one of them would open their door. His dad reached the last door, turned around and grinned at Kevin before raising his fist and braying on the door. Kevin yelped and raced towards his father, hearing shuffling noises coming from inside the Patterson's room.

His dad just chuckled whilst he carried the woman's body down the stairs.

Kevin heard a door clicking open once they'd both entered his dad's jointing room. The man looked down at Kevin, still grinning as the door clicked shut. There were occasions when he wasn't sure if his dad was trying to prove a point or playing a prank on him.

Mrs Kirkwood managed to stay alive for almost three hours. For the first time since the change, his dad didn't kill her immediately. Perhaps if she hadn't been such a whiny little bitch, the gobby woman might had been given a quick and relatively pain-free execution. Then again, if she had kept her mouth shut, she would have left their hotel and tootled down the road in that fucked up car she'd turned up in. Her mouth running off had put her shivering naked body on dad's stone slab.

Kevin thought his dad tried to make a statement in the woman's final hours. Kevin wasn't too sure as to whom his statement was directed at though, as it's not as though Mrs Kirkwood would be leaving this room in one piece.

He had stripped her and got the woman's body on the slab before she was even aware of her fate. Perhaps his two punches had done more damage than he intended? Not that it mattered. Once he was satisfied she wasn't going to move, he grabbed his favourite Stanley knife and cut one inch slits into each side of her face.

In the blink of an eye, he'd really given the daft cow something to complain about.

Kevin turned the crisp packet inside out and licked off the tiny crisp crumbs and flavour residue. It could be a while before he tasted these again so he intended not to waste even a single speck.

Why didn't his dad fuck the old woman? He pondered on that thought whilst watching the man peel the skin from the top of her thighs. It wasn't because of her age. His dad had never care about that before. The fat man would push that cock of his into any hole. In fact it was pretty much a certainty that once his blood was up, his pants would be around his ankles. Not this time though, and that fact worried Kevin more than it should have done.

Annie Kirkwood was sixty-nine, and was so looking forward to her big seven '0' in August.

The woman had over eleven thousand pounds in her savings account, owned two houses and been married four times. Kevin had discovered all of that and many other interesting facts whilst doing the inventory on her possessions, including that Annie Kirkwood was on her way to visit her younger sister and was due to get there in five days time. She had bookings for another five hotels in her bag. Kevin took pride in knowing that their intervention had saved another five hotel owners a great deal of stress and anxiety. The woman wouldn't
be annoying anybody else ever again, dad had hung what was left of the shredded carcass in the freezer. He told Kevin that she was to be the first person to go through his new wood chipper.

Kevin placed the Tupperware box beside him, stood up and slowly made his way over to the shed doorway. Okay, so this was a little strange. He saw no sign of his dad. He had rolled up the hose and just vanished. Kevin wasn't too sure what to do. He placed a hand over his mouth to suppress a yawn before turning back. He still had his custard creams to eat yet.

Kevin thrust his hands into the pockets of the overalls and discovered they weren't completely empty. He sat back down, his left hand clenched around something long, cold and solid. He placed the Tupperware box back on his lap and pulled out his fist. “What do we have here?” he said uncurling his fingers.

It was the key to his parent’s private rooms. His heart began to beat a little faster. Kevin hadn't been allowed up there for years. They'd been no explanation as to why his visiting privileges were cut but he did have the suspicious feeling that perhaps Dad might have suspected Kevin and Mum were getting a little too close.

There was no way that this had been left in these pockets by mistake, no way at all. Dad didn't make mistakes. This was the fucking stick! He began to sweat, not daring to move. Kevin looked at that single packet of biscuits and felt the chewed up contents of that box suddenly wanting to jump back in there. Once found, he couldn't ignore it. Kevin had to go. He'd been summoned, this was how things worked.

Why couldn't he have found this damn key after he'd finished off every item in his pleasure box? It so wasn't fair. There's no way he's be able to eat those biscuits now. Kevin dug around the mess on the floor until his foot found the lid. He clipped it on the container and placed the box on top of his bucket before making his way out of the shed. Fucking hell, this felt as though he'd just eaten his last meal before his execution.