Luke Delaney - The Keeper

The narrow cupboard by the back door held a number of illicit items. After a moment’s thought he selected the electric cattle prod he’d found and repaired when he first bought the buildings and land from the local council for a bargain price, other potential buyers having been put off by its history of animal cruelty and slaughter. The land was everything he’d been waiting and praying for — everything he’d been saving for, putting aside most of his earnings for years until finally he’d amassed enough to buy it, the land and buildings that meant he could begin to prepare for a life with Sam. Once he’d bought the land he’d immediately started his search for her, but it had been difficult to tell who Sam was now — so many years had passed and her mind had been so poisoned, any one of them could be her. He had no choice but to work his way through them until he found the real one. No matter how many of them tried to make him look a fool. He knew what to do with people who tried to make him look a fool.

With a final glance at the double-barrelled shotgun that held pride of place, he grabbed the keys to the cellar from their hook and closed the door. Then he stumbled to the bathroom, pulling the cabinet open and taking out a first-aid box. He opened it and removed one of the syringes and a large phial of alfentanil. Taking the safety cap from the syringe, he expertly eased it into the phial, drawing out fifty millilitres of the anaesthetic before replacing the cap.

Now that he had everything he needed, he made his way outside, striding across the yard, the syringe in his trouser pocket, the cattle prod gripped in his hand. But when he reached the metal door he froze, the absolute clarity of what he had to do suddenly deserting him, the enormity of it almost too much comprehend.

You have no choice, he told himself . She will destroy everything. She’s too dangerous to ignore. He knew he was right, and with that belief his strength and purpose returned. He unlocked the padlock and pulled the cellar door aside, jumping down the stairs two at a time into the darkness below, his usual caution and fear swept away by the need to rid himself of her.

Both women felt the change in his bold approach. For a brief moment Louise allowed herself to believe it was their rescuers pounding down the stairs. But as the overhead bulb flooded the cellar with light she saw her hope was a false one and tried to push herself deep into the corner of her wire cell. Like a snake charmer watching for the cobra’s strike, her eyes never left him as he crossed the room, his right hand gripping a strange-looking rod. She soon realized he wasn’t remotely interested in her. It was as if she didn’t exist. He had come for Karen.

His eyes appeared quite red as they reflected the light from overhead, his face expressionless as he moved towards her, intent on some sick purpose. Karen cowered in what was now the safest place in the room for her to be. He pointed the cattle prod at her. ‘It’s time for you to leave,’ he told her.

Karen knew what he meant, knew he wasn’t going to simply release her so she could tell the world what he had done. There would be no happy reunion with her friends and family. ‘No,’ she begged him, ‘please let me stay. I’ll be good. I’ll be very good. I’ll do all the things you want me to. I’ll make you happy, just like when you first brought me here, remember?’

‘Don’t talk to me.’ His voice was steady and cold, without feeling. She was nothing to him now, merely a problem he needed to deal with.

‘Don’t do this, please, I’m begging you,’ Karen almost shouted, her tears slurring her words, horror and disbelief etched into her contorted face.

He opened the hatch in the side of her cage. ‘Put your arm through,’ he ordered. ‘Put your arm through and I won’t hurt you. Do as you’re told.’

‘I can’t,’ Karen wailed, ‘please God, I can’t.’

‘Do it or you’ll make me very angry,’ he growled, lips narrowing as the feelings of anger and disgust towards her began to crawl back into his soul. ‘If you make me angry I’ll have to use this until you do as I tell you.’ He held the cattle prod close to the wire so she could see it, although he doubted she would know what it was.

‘I don’t want to make you angry,’ Karen pleaded, ‘but don’t make me give you my arm.’

‘Damn you,’ he suddenly yelled, making both women flinch with fear. ‘Damn you to hell — do as you’re told.’ Without warning he thrust the cattle prod through the wire and into Karen’s ribcage. Her scream was deafening in the confined space, the pain it described lingering in the room as she fell on her side, back exposed as she tried to protect her burning ribs.

His eyes grew wider as a smile fattened his lips. He thrust the prod towards her again, his smile turning to a snarl as he pushed it hard into her back. Her second scream wasn’t as deafening as the first, the pain in her spine causing her to arch unnaturally backwards, squeezing her already empty lungs.

Louise watched the torture from her own cage with both fear and rage. ‘Leave her alone,’ she shouted. ‘You fucking coward, leave her alone.’ But her demands were ignored, as if she wasn’t even there.

‘Put your arm through the hatch,’ he told Karen, sounding calmer now as the room fell silent. After a few seconds she began to stir, struggling to her hands and knees and crawling the three feet to the other side of the cage, her fingers curling around the wire as she slowly dragged herself to the height of the hatch and slid her arm through, quietly crying in surrender. ‘Good,’ he said, pulling the syringe from his pocket and discarding the cattle prod. He tugged the cap from the needle and took hold of her arm. ‘Keep still,’ he warned her and began to search for a vein.

It was proving harder than he thought. He regretted not having brought something to use as a tourniquet to swell the blood vessels in the crook of her arm. Tutting in exasperation he plunged the needle in, but was sure he hadn’t found a vein. He pulled it out without care and pushed it deep into the crook of her arm a second time, the pain making her struggle. ‘Be still,’ he hissed into her face, but again he’d missed his mark. Sweat was dripping from him as his frustration mounted. He wrenched the needle free and immediately shoved it back in, a satisfied noise leaking from his mouth as he saw the needle had found its mark. Too quickly he pushed the alfentanil from the syringe and into her vein, the surging drug agonizingly painful as it made the blood inside her body feel as if it was turning to ice, rushing around her body, slowing her breathing and relaxing her muscles, her mind spinning as if she was seriously drunk. He pulled the needle free and released her arm, watching her as she slid to the floor, conscious but defenceless.

Like a predator wary of its wounded prey, he deactivated the cattle prod and used it as a stick to poke his victim, stabbing it hard into her back and ribcage. Karen groaned each time he jabbed her, limply trying to ward away the stick. Satisfied, he smiled a sickly grin and moved to the main door of her cage, unlocked it and entered.

For a few moment he stood over her, still cautious, still using the prod to ensure she was no threat to him. Then he suddenly snapped into action, discarding the cattle prod and rushing at her, just as he’d practised, grabbing a fistful of the hair on top of her head, slipping his other hand under her jaw, dragging her across the floor of her cage and into the main body of the cellar.

Louise shrank into a ball, pressing her eyes shut and covering her ears against the screams.

‘Get up,’ he told Karen, quietly at first, then louder. ‘Get up.’ He knew he wouldn’t be able to pull her up the stairs; the effort of dragging her from the cage had drained most of his strength. ‘Get up!’ he screamed.