Frederick Hamilton - Spare Key

‘The fucking pussy’s crying. I thought you said he was up for this?’ one of the boys called and Jacob felt his heart go cold. It only made it worse and he slid out as his dick went limp.

He tried to stick it back in but it was impossible and when he felt the hand on his shoulder he started to blubber.

‘No, no, no, no, no.’

It dragged him back and although he was glad to be off her; glad he didn’t have to look at those blood-drenched features anymore, he was terrified. The hand released him a few metres away and he just crumpled to his knees.

He thought he’d pass out as his brother hunkered down beside him.

‘What the fuck’s wrong with you?’ Michael hissed in his ear as a shriek ripped through the air from the congregated group. Jacob didn’t want to know what they were doing. He just felt dizzy and sick and there was a strange roar in his ears.

‘I said, what the fuck’s the matter with you? You can’t fucking do this. You’re fucking embarrassing me man.’ Jacob just blubbered in reply as another shriek ripped through the air and one of the boys crowed, ‘That’s the way, fucking slice her up.’

‘Fuck it.’ Jacob could see his brother peering between him and the action and any last ideas he had of Michael being human just disappeared as he saw the blood lust etched on his face; saw that he didn’t want to miss a single second.

It just made the tears worse. Especially the way his brother looked at him with such sickened disgust.

‘Don’t fucking move,’ Michael hissed and turned back to join his comrades.

Jacob leant forward and vomited again.

It was only a thin trickle of bile this time but the pain of bringing it up wracked his entire body. And it just stunk so fucking bad. Far stronger than vomit should have.The smell of it filling his nostrils, scorching them, making his eyes water, causing him to gag again. It kept growing and growing, building impossibly until he thought his head would explode. It seemed impossible that it could reek that bad.

Then he felt rather than saw the presence behind him and realised it wasn’t his vomit he’d smelled at all.

The voice boomed in his head, RUN, and then it was past him and moving towards the circle. The boys slowly raised their head from their antics and their catcalls died down as the smell hit them one by one. Jacob scrabbled backwards, skidding on the loose rocks amongst the dirt as the voice boomed again.

RUN.

He still hadn’t put his dick away but he barely noticed it begin to jet urine. He couldn’t take his eyes off the figure as it closed in on the boys.

RUN , it boomed one last time and Jacob obeyed, turning and pelting headlong through the shrub, branches whipping his face and arms. Scrabbling for purchase, tripping, falling, getting up and running. Not even paying attention to where he was going just trying to block out the noises he heard from behind him.

A small part of his brain wondered who exactly was screaming.

Whether it was his brother.

But he didn’t stop running.

* * * * *

I am not at all proud of what I did to those boys. At least I have the comfort of knowing that it had to be done. But in the end, I can’t help questioning whether maybe there wasn’t some other way. I just keep telling myself I gave them ample opportunities.

And that poor girl. When I looked at what they’d done to her I had to put her out of her misery. It was the only decent thing to do. She probably could have lived but I knew she wouldn’t want to. Not with her face cut up like that. Wounds like those would never heal right. For all intents and purposes she was already dead. Another victim to add to their list.

But what’s done is done and there aren’t any do-overs. No matter how often I wish there were.

I often wonder if maybe that should have been the end of the whole sorry affair; right there and then. Ending back where it began in those Claypits… but I just kept finding myself coming back to the boy I let go. Wondering if maybe that had been a mistake. I mean I didn’t regret letting him go but I just had to be certain. I had to make sure a seed hadn’t been planted in the boy’s mind. Despite what some people believe, I don’t necessarily see everything and I just wanted to make sure that nothing was taking root. I just couldn’t let it go until I was certain…

* * * * *

For a long time Jacob didn’t leave his room at all. Not to eat, not to drink, not even to relieve himself. He just sat in the corner of his room sobbing, pissing and shitting in his pants as the urge came. He had no idea if his father was home. He had no idea if Michael’s absence had even been noticed. He had no idea about anything.

Not even how long had passed before there was a knock on the door and his father entered; beer in hand. He didn’t particularly care though.

‘Why aren’t you at school?’ His father’s question at least told him it was a weekday. Jacob could feel the anger seething off the man but it didn’t bother him. He just shrugged and his father glared at him for a moment as he took another slurp of his beer. ‘Have you seen your brother, the cops have been looking for him again.’

Jacob shook his head.

‘You sure now?’

This time he nodded and they lapsed into silence for awhile.

‘Well get to fucking school then, I’ve got work to go to.’

Obediently Jacob rose and his father’s face wrinkled in disgust.

‘And take a fucking shower why don’t you, you smell like you shit yourself.’

Jacob didn’t comment on the hypocrite’s own thick stench that engulfed him as he followed his father out into the hallway. He’d already pushed it as far as he dared.

* * * * *

When he arrived at school, the rumours were already spreading thick and fast. Apparently the cops had been out that morning, questioning the students. Jacob ignored them as best he could but it was clear to him that things had changed. That his fellow students had realised the full horror of what the original DVD had grown into.

He felt the eyes on him the whole time. He saw the way the others shied away. Particularly the girls. It was easy enough to see it was going to be guilt by association. That, in the boy’s absence, they’d already decided on their scapegoat. He knew it was pointless trying to explain. That he hadn’t wanted to be involved.

Apparently they’d been spotted going into the Claypits by a couple of teens heading there to ride their bikes. They’d seen both Jacob and Clint’s sister with the other boys and when her body was found, it hadn’t taken them long to start blabbing it all over school. Jacob knew there was no point trying to defend himself. That no one would believe him.

It was a complete one eighty in opinion and he couldn’t help wondering exactly when the DVD’s had stepped across the boundary. Exactly why the other kids who had raved about the first DVD’s coolness were now sickened to hear what it had grown into.

Jacob couldn’t stop wondering what it had taken. Had it been blood? Was it all right so long as the slaps and pinches didn’t break the skin? Was it no longer hilarious if they weren’t just molesting the girls but also killing them?

What was it?

He didn’t know and the worst bit was, the longer it went on, the less he really cared. The less he felt the victim in his own mind. Because deep down inside, he really felt he deserved it. He could make all the excuses he wanted but he just couldn’t make himself believe them. Because he had been part of it all. He’d known from right near the start and he hadn’t breathed a word.

And now every night when he closed his eyes, he saw her face. Clint’s sister’s and her screwed up eyes beneath him.