Frederick Hamilton - Spare Key

But it wasn’t enough and he burrowed deeper, using his free hand to scoop out the ruined remains, plunging his scalpel past the tattered optic nerves, jamming it into the soft matter that was deeper inside.

And when he couldn’t reach any further he pulled it out and slashed at the bridge of her nose, at the skin around the socket, widening the gap while her feet beat out a frantic tattoo as her entire frame started shuddering. Widening it until his fingers could fit. Widening it until he could drag out handful after handful of the gunk inside.

Widening it until he could clear it all out; destroy everything she had ever been.

* * * * *

Ben blinked and started as a gobbet of his cum splattered across his chin and the vibrator dropped from his hand onto the bed beside him.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit , his mind screamed through the mental equivalent of gritted teeth as he pushed himself up and wiped the semen from his chin. How long had he been gone? He looked down at the front of his shirt and the cum stains that now dotted it. How long?

Shit! He’d known it had been a bad idea; he just hadn’t been able to help himself. When he’d found the box under the bed and opened it and seen the vibrator there, it had just been too much. And then when he raised it up and caught the hint of the lingering scent, he’d instantly been transported back. Just heard her voice once more in his mind.

Mummy needs you…

And it had sprung up clear as day. He’d pushed open the door, heard the buzzing and she had been there, legs splayed. He’d been wanking before he was even aware of it and once he’d cum and the red had started closing in, he hadn’t resisted.

Which was stupid.

What if she’d come home? Seen him lying there? Ben realised he wasn’t really thinking clearly as he pushed himself to his feet; that if she’d come home and seen him, he’d probably be in hand cuffs right about now but still he felt nervous.

How long had passed? He stooped next to the clock radio but it had unplugged when he’d swiped it off the bedside table. He glanced toward the window and saw it was dark outside but that wasn’t very helpful.

There was a flicker and he looked up sharply, almost expecting to see her leaning against the door frame – and what exactly do you think you’re doing? It would sound so casual as she puffed at her cigarette but the hand would be there, hidden behind her back.

The doorway was clear though and Ben started to relax as he crept out of the bedroom. He still listened intently; certain he’d hear the click of the lock opening. That he’d see the door swing wide in front of him.

He moved forward until the clock was in view and then stopped dead when the time registered. 10:30, he read and forced himself to swallow.

Something was wrong. She should have been home by now. Surely…

He retraced his steps and perched himself on the bare mattress again to think. Something could have come up. Maybe she was meeting someone for dinner? Maybe…

Ben thought of every excuse he could but in the end, he had to admit that he just didn’t know. He hadn’t spent nearly as long watching her as he usually did and now that he thought about it, that fact left him a little confused. It was like finding the key had somehow added a dimension of urgency to his actions. That if he didn’t use it, it would disappear or something. As well as a layer of complacency that, as he looked back over his actions, startled Ben immensely.

The urge for a cigarette was overwhelming and Ben had a lit one in his mouth before he was even aware of what he was doing. He puffed hard for a moment and then it clicked. He was forcing himself to stay despite his doubts. He couldn’t very well leave now with the place reeking of cigarette smoke. If he did and she came home, she’d know immediately that someone had been in her flat and he’d lose his chance forever.

It’s just jitters , he told himself as he scooted back into a more comfortable position. It’s been a while. You’re just a little nervous.

He tapped his ash onto the carpet and took another drag on his cigarette, his eyes drifting over the shattered remains of the phone once more to fall on the opened box beside him on the bed. He’d been too entranced with the vibrator earlier to pay the photo albums in the box any attention but he did remember seeing them before, laying beside the bed on his first visit to her bedroom window.

It would be something to pass the time. It might be a bit late now but he could learn more about her . He knew it was wishful thinking to believe he would glean any explanation for her late arrival home but as he lifted the first one free, he couldn’t help hoping.

* * * * *

The clock read 11:15 when Ben was finally satisfied that he’d gotten the flat into an approximate facsimile of the condition it had been in when he entered. He’d refolded the clothes and placed them back into the wardrobe, replaced the jewellery, reset the alarm clock and repacked his duffel bag with the exception of the hunting knife, which was lodged within easy reach in his pocket. The cum-stained underwear and cloth were stuffed in his pockets. Along with the missing eggs, he’d just have to hope they were something she wouldn’t notice.

He’d found a can of air-freshener beneath the sink to take care of the cigarette smell but he sincerely regretted ashing on the carpet now. He’d cleaned it as best as he could but a faint ghostly outline was still noticeable. Again, he’d just have to hope she didn’t notice.

After remaking the bed, Ben had flipped through the albums once more before stowing them back in the box with the vibrator and sliding it back under the frame. Now as he made his way to the door, the Polaroids inside replayed across his mind and a strange, giddy feeling invaded his stomach. This was just too strange; too freaky. He needed time to process it. Sort things out.

But what he really needed to do was to get out of here now. It was just a possibility he’d never considered; one he’d never ever dreamed of.

He paused as he reached for the door handle and listened intently. It would be just his luck that after waiting for so long, she’d arrive just as he wanted to leave. He couldn’t hear anything though, just the sound of his own breathing and the pumping of blood in his ears.

It was okay; he could fix this. He’d just go to his flat, pack up his stuff – there wasn’t much it wouldn’t take long – and then he would move on. Just chuck his stuff in the car and go.

Things had definitely taken too much of a leap into left field for him.

He slid the hunting knife from the sheath in his pocket and stashed it in his sleeve as he twisted the handle. It was stupid he knew. She wasn’t going to be waiting out there with one hand hidden behind her back. But he wanted to be careful nonetheless.

And the giddy feeling in his stomach only grew as he saw the deadbolt on the door. Saw that the green circle was showing and that it hadn’t been locked. As he searched for a reason why she wouldn’t have snibbed it when she left, Ben suddenly felt like an animal that had been lured into a trap. The sight paralysed him for a long moment and Ben strangely felt the urge to burst into tears.

Just get out of here! his mind screamed and Ben pushed.

Oh God, she’s going to be waiting out there…

The door swung wide, revealing no one standing beyond the screen door and Ben snorted to himself; well what were you expecting? Though he still winced as the hinges on the door creaked noisily.