Sam West: Home Intruder

“Don’t you dare die on me,” she whispered, “don’t your dare.”

It wasn’t fair. They had their whole lives in front of them, but now he was dying.

And you will too, she thought in cold certainty.

She heard the front door slam shut and she winced as if she had been struck. The kitchen door swung inwards.

“I didn’t say you could move, bitch.”

The nuzzle of the gun kissed the temple of an ashen-faced Boko.

He’s alive. But the gunshot …

“Linda’s boyfriend has decided to join us. Isn’t that great? I’ve never done a foursome before.”

Jaz checked him over for blood. He wasn’t bleeding, as far as she could see. He was crying though, like that big fat coward she knew he really was.

“He shot Jow, oh God, please let me go.”

Jaz glanced past them down the hallway. Sure enough, the body of an old man lay crumpled in an unnatural position on the ground before the front door. Jason must have shot him, then dragged him inside the house.

Jow. That old guy from the pasty shop …

The sight of the dead body honed her senses in a way she didn’t expect. Instead of renewed terror she decided there and then that she and Ed were not going to die tonight.

Keeping her hands to her husband’s wound, she lifted up her gaze to Jason. There must have been something in her eyes he hadn’t seen before, for he grinned at her in a way that was nearer a snarl.

“Like that now is it? Very well.” He nudged Boko’s temple with the gun, making him cry out and stagger forward.

Jaz noticed how Boko had barely even glanced at his unconscious girlfriend on the floor. Or ex-girlfriend. Whatever. Jaz could not give a shit about either of them. The man was so scared in fact, it didn’t even seem to register with him that she herself was naked. And she had the feeling that was extremely unusual for Boko.

The bastard’s terrified.

He’s not the only one.

“Sit down Boko, palms flat on the table, there’s a good boy.” Boko did as instructed, sobbing the entire time. “Very good. Now, Jaz, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, it’s your turn to play. But now we have an extra person that has joined the game, so your choices are altered. Would you rather cut off your husband’s cock, flay Linda, or hold Boko’s hand down on the electric hob for thirty seconds?”

“What the fuck is this shit?” Boko said between sobs.

Jaz regarded him dry-eyed, coolly going over the options in her mind. Linda was unconscious, and God willing she might remain so during the ordeal. Searing Boko’s hand, however, would arguably be over much quicker, cause less permanent damage, and, more importantly, be a damn sight easier than skinning someone.

“I’ll take Boko’s hand.”

“What? You fucking bitch! You can’t do that!”

“Would you rather I flayed your girlfriend?”

He didn’t answer her. “Just let me fucking go,” he bellowed.

Linda stirred on the floor, and all three of them turned to look at her. She mumbled something incoherent, and hauled herself up onto her elbows.

“Boko?” she slurred, staring up at her ex with bloodshot, dazed eyes, her forehead swollen and dented from the knock it had taken against the table edge.

Boko went to stand up. “Enough of this fucking shit…” he started to say.

Jason aimed the gun at his head. “Don’t be fucking stupid. What’s a little bit of scorched skin between friends?”

“Please don’t hurt me,” Boko said, his gaze darting frantically between Jason and Jaz.

The bastard couldn’t give a shit about Linda, she thought angrily, her decision only concreting further in her mind.

Jason casually wandered over to the electric cooker and turned on the front right element, the gun trained on Boko’s head all the while.

“Wos going on?” Linda groaned, now sitting upright and ineffectually clutching her torn clothes to her naked torso.

“Don’t fucking do this,” Boko continued to babble. “Just let me go, I promise I won’t say anything.”

“C’mon, over here,” Jason said, flicking the gun at him in a come hither gesture. Boko didn’t move. “Now, fuckwit! You too, Jaz.”

Snot bubbled in the man’s nose and he continued to whimper and plead pathetically.

Jaz glanced down at her unconscious husband before joining Jason by the stove.

I love you, baby. I’ll do whatever it takes, I promise.

“Good girl. Come on Boko, don’t be so pathetic. What would you rather, a little war wound on your hand or a bullet between your eyes?”

Boko came over snivelling. Jason nodded at her and she knew it was up to her now. Without hesitation she grabbed Boko’s wrist and planted his hand, palm down on the element. Boko let it happen. He must have known, subconsciously or otherwise, that he had no real choice.

Jaz actually heard his skin sizzle, like sausages on a hot grill. His howl of pain turned high pitched and inhuman. It made her head swim but she did not let go. The smell of cooked meat assaulted her nostrils - so savoury that, to her horror, it made her mouth water. She held on for grim life as smoke curled up from his hand. He lurched sideways, leaning heavily on her. It suddenly occurred to her that his hand was welded fast to the element.

The macabre moment felt like it lasted for hours when in reality it couldn’t have been more than ten seconds.

“Okay, you can let go now,” Jason said over the screaming that was beginning to sound like an old-fashioned kettle on the boil.

She didn’t have to be asked twice and staggered backwards, her bare rump connecting with the table edge. With an ear-splitting scream, Boko wrenched his hand free. Most of the skin was left behind on the element and sizzled away like spilled dinner. He held his trembling hand up to his face and screamed afresh. The heat had cauterised the wound, leaving behind a blackened sheen. White bone could be glimpsed beneath the ruined palm.

It was too much for Boko. His eyes rolled back in his head and he went down with surprising grace for a big man, like he knew he was passing out and was able to control his landing.

Because of the drama by the stove, none of them noticed right away that Linda was upright and hobbling down the hallway towards the front door.

“Hey bitch, where do you think you’re going?”

Linda had reached the end of the hallway, not that she could go anywhere. Not only was the door locked, but it opened inwards and Jow was blocking it anyway.

From the way her bare shoulders trembled, Jaz could see she was crying.

“Get back here now, Jesus Christ, these bitches are running wild.”

He laughed as he said it and a steely resolve overtook her. It had surprised her how easy it had been to do that to Boko’s hand. And she liked Boko a lot more than she liked Jason Jacks.

She kept her glaze lowered so he wouldn’t see the hardness in her eyes. Linda approached them, still clutching the remains of her bra and top to her chest.

“You lied to me. You said that you were going to make it so that me and Ed would be together,” she said, stepping over her unconscious (ex) boyfriend like he didn’t exist.

“I wasn’t lying, baby. You’ll be together forever. In death, that is. Oh come now, don’t look so angry. There is another way to be with him. If you kill Jaz, then he’ll be all yours.”

Her eyes looked glazed with madness. “Yes. Mine. I love him so much.”

Jaz bit down the tears. Not of fear anymore, but of sheer frustration. She was so fucking tired of this.

“So ladies, what I would like you to do is this. A fight to the death to win the love of the object of your desires.”