Disclaimer: For some nonsexual reason, I've got to mention a few sucky things. My story isn't real, 100% fake, shyah! It all comes from my amazingly wide and vastly beautiful mind and imagination, and no other such place. If my work resembles others, either bitch crazy (cos i'm so unique!) or it's a coincidence. I do (kind of, not really) try to make my work seem different, but it's not always possible, friends. All acts of shag and rump-pounding in these stories are gay, so if it's illegal where you are then get off and screw your government. Everyone who has sex has given their consent, too. Also, give a little money to Nifty, guys, eh? Eh?
Benjy's Boy: Chapter Nine
At first, my vision was blurry and impaired. Everything I could see was odd and misshapen, and kept twirling and dancing in silly motions before me. Eventually, the blurs subsided and I could make out the scene before me. There was someone with a shaded face dressed in leather, wrapped in it from head to toe. They seemed rather shifty, and noticed I was coming back around. The person bent down and breathed a minty and refreshing breath onto my face. Then, they swept up and slid from the scene before me. They jumped over the wall before I could see a face.
I stood up and gathered myself back together, feeling the back of my head where it had been cut by a broken chip in the wall. I could feel the dry blood clotting my hair together, but at least it had stopped bleeding. I tried to feel the scar, but it had been wrapped in cloth or bandages.
Then, I finally saw them.
The three punks lay dead on the Alley floor. The skinhead had blood leaking from his wide-open throat, while the two others had knives deep into their jaws and poking from their scalp. When I looked around, I saw that they weren't the only victims. Every punk or skinhead had been stabbed and cut, slit and sliced. Blood stained the walls and the floor, and there wasn't a Goth in sight.
I suddenly felt the need to puke, but held it back. That would be a splendid find at the scene of a crime, I told myself. No, I had to get out. I had to get out unseen. I picked up a long back jacket with a lengthy hood and wrapped myself in it, before gliding from the scene without touching a single thing, other than the coat. Once I had slipped through the crack in the wall, I ran for miles with the hood covering my face. After I had gotten far enough, I decided to call the police. But not on my own phone. That would just be stupid. I approached a phone-box nearby.
It was red and bright, and reminded me of the blood. But I stepped into it and called the Police
"Police, please," I told calmly, using a fake Indian accent me and Victoria had been practicing recently.
A buzzing voice replied to me, and directed me through to the police.
"Hello, there's been a murder," I started.
"A murder?!"
"A massive murder, about fifteen people stabbed. It's on Westerly Road, behind the two corner shops? You know, the blocked off alley."
"We'll be there right away. What was your name?"
"I can't say. I was beaten up in the Alley and woke up after they had been killed. Someone in leather left before I could see them. Check the security cameras from the shop and you'll see them leaving. The person after them is me, but I won't be giving my name. A person in leather. Bye."
I hung up the phone and walked casually from the box, but once I had turned the corner I ran as far as I could. I was nearly home, and according to my iPhone, it was nearly noon.
But just as I checked the time, my phone rang from an unidentified caller. I hesitated a little, before answering.
"Hello?"
Silence.
"Hello?"
"You're the only one that knows," said a sinister voice.
"Only one that knows what?" I asked sheepishly.
"We were at the fight. I followed you there."
"Who is this? Why were you following me? What happened in the Alley?" I demanded.
"A gang of goths came in after you passed out. The punks were all knocked out, like you, and then the goths ran away. All but you and me."
"Did you kill them?"
"They woke up first, but they didn't see me. They only saw you. All of them ganged around you. Some wanted to hurt you, kidnap you, rape you, murder you. I stopped them. I fixed your cut. You saw me. Tell no one."
"Why did you do it?"
"Kayden, I know everything about you. I'm not a goth or a punk or a skinhead. I know about you and that Benjy kid from across the street. I saved you. You owe me."
"What do you want?" I asked silently, awaiting a reply.
"We'll see. Just do as I say and you'll be safe. Save this number in your phone as Jasper. Then go home. Take a different route, hide your face. Change your clothes and put them in a carrier bag. Put the bag in the alley behind your house and stay there until I get there. After I see you there, redye your hair and don't go back to the Alley or that stupid phone-box again. And do yourself a favour and don't call the police again, will you?" the dark voice ordered over the phone.
"But why did you do it?"
"I wasn't just there by chance, stupid Kayden. I've been following you for weeks. I stopped those sick bastards because they were going to do much worse shit to you. I saved you. Now shut up and do as I say. I'll be in touch."
And they hung up.
I added the number into my contacts and saved it as "Jasper", and followed his instructions as I headed home.
I had changed from my clothes and had them stuffed into a plastic bag, as Jasper had told me. They were my school clothes, considering I wasn't hoping to stay in the Alley long this morning. I was supposed to go to school. Luckily, no one would notice my school clothes and shoes gone and I wouldn't miss them myself. I had others.
I carried the bag out to my back garden and into the alley when it was nearing two in the afternoon. I waited a good thirty minutes before I heard that same chilling voice again.
"You're alone?"
"Yes."
"Throw the bag," the voice said, although I could see no body or face or shadow to match it. I just threw it where I heard the voices coming from. I heard it being picked up and then nothing.
"Are you still there?"
"I am," Jasper replied.
From down the alley flew a blue bag-pack that landed by my feet.
"I trust you know how to use hair dye. It's blond. It would suit you best. When you go in, take a shower and scrub yourself with the shampoo in there, too. In the bag is also the number of a private tutor who will say you were with them the entirety of today. You're alibi. I've stolen the tapes of you entering the Alley, too. You were never there. The only person who knows you were is your friend, Victoria, and she was too doped on all kinds of drugs to remember the last weekend, never mind hours."
"You have this all thought out," I remarked.
"Yes, I do."
"But why are you helping me? Why did you do it? Why were you following me to begin with?" I asked the empty alley.
"I was following you because you are my newest target. Now do what I say and go take that shower. Then ask Lydia or Alison to dye your hair for you, and go back to school tomorrow."
"But... Jasper..."
"No. I've wiped your blood from the scene and I've destroyed the fag you were smoking. You were never there. Next Monday, every Monday from now on, you'll go to this tutor instead of school, do you understand? The phone number, address, everything is written on paper in that bag. I'll be in touch. Goodbye, Kayden."
"Bye then, Jasper."
And then the dire silence filled the alley and left me alone.
Thanks for reading, guys. I've spend a lot of time trying to rethink the plot,and I'm changing the story a lot more from your typical love story. People die, no one is safe. Chapter Ten will be out sometime in early March 2013.
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Bye, babes!