Angels Bleed (Fallen Angels Book 1) (25 page)

10:05 pm

A harsh, repetitive squeak emanated from a wheel on the rusty old trolley as Dr Ennis pushed it down the corridor towards the light coming from the open cell door in the distance.  On the top of the trolley were a number of implements.  A hammer, some nails, a long bladed kitchen knife and a pair of pliers.  He was whistling to himself as he nonchalantly entered the padded cell and positioned the trolley next to the chair in the centre of the room.

Saul’s lifeless body was strapped in the chair, totally naked.  All of the restraints were in place, on his head, over his chest, down his arms and around his legs.  There was a subtle movement of the strap around his chest.  His hands were positioned palm up and tied tightly around the wrists. 

Dr Ennis continued his jovial whistling and adjusted the black gloves he was wearing.  He picked up the hammer and a nail from the top of the trolley.  He positioning the nail into Saul’s left palm, circling it delicately to find the right position, then with a ferocious swing of his arm, smashed it with the hammer, straight through skin and bone, whistling as he did.

Saul screamed, his whole body tensing as his eyes shot open instantly, bulging from his head, darting around frantically as they tried to comprehend what was happening.  They angled down to see a pool of blood collecting around his open palm, dripping down onto the floor.  They looked in front of him to the sneering, sadistic countenance of Dr Ennis glaring back at him, whistling still.  Dr Ennis smirked as he picked up another nail and scraped it all the way down Saul’s right arm, drawing blood as it broke the skin before settling in his right palm.

Panic shot into Saul’s face as he screamed ‘No!’ a second before Dr Ennis slammed the hammer against the second nail, the word augmenting into a shrilling howl of agony.

‘In my world Saul, this type of pain is a precursor to pleasure.  It releases endorphins into your body that try to counteract the pain.  They also arouse you, sexually.’  Dr Ennis said, squatting down between Saul’s open thighs and wrapping a hand around his semi erect penis.  A gloved hand.  A gloved hand whose palm was covered in sharp metal pins.  Dr Ennis squeezed and started rubbing it up and down Saul’s hardening shaft.

‘Get off you fucking bastard, get off.’  Saul screamed, spittle dribbling from his mouth as he tried to shake his head, forcing his body against the restraints, his face living the excruciating pain.

‘It’s you who will get off Saul and you can’t do a thing about it.  Your body won’t let you.  As much as you try to ignore what I am doing, your body wants it, your body is enjoying it and your body craves the pleasure.  Your mind might not, but your body does.’ he said, squeezing and tugging his penis faster.  Saul closed his eyes excruciatingly, shaking his head frantically with what little movement he could make, his body jittering as he tried hard to distract his mind from what was happening to him, from the overwhelming agony. 

Dr Ennis laughed, tugging harder, feeling Saul’s shaft thicken and throb between his hands.  ‘It’s no good Saul.  No.  Good.  At.  All.’  Dr Ennis finished slowly, speeding up his tugging.  Saul’s body shuddered, his penis pulsing, his throat opening into another ear splitting scream as he ejaculated, his body jerking, then slumping in the seat as the last throb of ejaculation cease.  Saul began to whimper, eyes closed, the darkness of despair painted across his sweat stained face.

‘You mother fucker.’  Saul groaned, disconsolately.

‘I think you will find that it was Michael Angus who was the mother fucker.  That was a thrill too, knowing that he had Rebecca.  Knowing that she had lost her virginity to her son.’  Dr Ennis sneered as he raised a finger covered in Saul’s ejaculate, and rubbed it into his lips, licking it off with a lewd tongue.

‘Did you kill Michael Angus?  Did you kill him just so you could have Rebecca committed?’  Saul asked, surprise evident in his laboured tone.

Dr Ennis burst out laughing, a harsh, maniacal noise as he reached for another nail from the trolley.  ‘You should know something about me Saul.  It might help you appreciate what is going to happen to you.  Every New Year’s Day, since the age of twenty, I have killed someone.  I have killed lots of people in between those times, but they were either accidental or, as in your case, opportune.  I had set out on New Year’s Eve 2011 with the specific intention of killing someone, as I always did.  I attended a Masquerade Ball, and noticed Rebecca there, pimping her Gimp around.  I had seen her many times before and as I said to you earlier, I wanted her.’ 

Dr Ennis knelt down on the floor in front of Saul’s left foot, placed a nail on the top of it and thrust the hammer down hard onto it, puncturing through the skin and bone, Saul screeching in agony instantly.  Dr Ennis smiled.

‘I watched her all night, admiring the way she dominated her Gimp, fantasising about what I wanted to do with her luscious body before I killed her.  When they left the club, I followed them.  I thought they were going back to her flat.  I knew where she lived, I had followed her before.  I was surprised when they got out of the taxi on the high street, but I did likewise and followed behind them at a discreet distance.  Then I lost them.  They turned a corner and when I got to it, they were gone.  At the time, I didn’t realise they were in the limousine that drove by.  I went to her flat, knowing that if she wasn’t there already, she would be there soon.  She wasn’t there, so I picked the lock, went into her bedroom, opened the curtains so that the streetlight cast a glow into the darkness, and made myself comfortable under her bed, patiently waiting for her to come home.’ 

Dr Ennis picked up another nail from the trolley and knelt down next to Saul’s right foot.  His eye line was with Saul’s crotch and he smirked as he saw his penis semi erect again.  He placed the nail against the foot and, looking up to Saul’s pleading face, malevolently drove the nail home, devouring the anguished cries of Saul with avarice.

‘It was 4:30 am when I heard the front door.  There were muffled voices, more than one person, and some shuffling and bumping outside the bedroom.  My initial though was that the two of them were drunk and trying to navigate across the living room.  The bedroom door opened and two sets of feet entered, one a man, one a woman.  They seemed to be carrying something, which they placed on the bed, and then they both left the room, closing the door, after which I heard the front door shut.  I waited for another half an hour in silence before quietly edging myself out from under the bed.  I raised my head slowly, making out two shapes on the bed in the ruddy glow of the streetlights.  One was Rebecca, naked.  The other was Michael, still in his Gimp suit.’

Dr Ennis stood up in front of Saul and looked admiringly at his inflicted stigmata.  He picked up another nail and twirled it in his fingers in front of Saul’s eyes.

‘Neither of them were moving.  I checked their pulses.  Michael was dead and Rebecca was heavily sedated.  Sometimes,’ Dr Ennis started, crouching down again, smiling at Saul, ‘circumstances are opportune.’ he continued as he placed the tip of the nail against Saul’s scrotum and let the head of the hammer gently tap against it.  ‘I had the opportunity to take my New Year’s Day heart, incriminate Rebecca for a murder and mess her mind up so bad, that she would be under my care, under my domination, for a very, very long time.’  He lifted the hammer, eyes shining with delirium and pummelled the nail straight through Saul’s scrotum.

Saul’s face contorted as he tried to contain the excruciating pain, tension screaming through his pulsing veins, his eyes bulging, circling wildly, frantically deranged.

Dr Ennis stood between Saul’s thighs and raised a hand to his chest, massaging the skin around his heart, letting his fingernail impress themselves into the pliant flesh.

‘So I ripped the skin open on Michael’s chest, rived the ribs apart and tore out his still warm heart.  His blood started to seep onto the bed so I rolled Rebecca over into it, covering her body with the viscose life force.  I forced a few morsels of heart into her mouth, closing it and covering her nose so she had to swallow.  She gagged but didn’t wake from her sedation.  I washed her hands and forearms in the blood pooling in his open chest cavity and then caked her mouth with it.  I took out my small Tupperware container, and secreted my prize, Michael’s heart, inside it.  A few weeks later I had my second prize, Rebecca Angus under my care, to do with as I pleased.’

Dr Ennis had two hands against Saul’s chest now and was digging his fingers into the skin, breaking the surface with the pressure he was applying.

‘Why did you let her go?  If she meant that much to you, if you did so much to get her, why did you let her go?’

Dr Ennis forced a finger into a small slit that he had worked open on Saul’s chest.  ‘I think I may have gone too far, with her mind.  I think I pushed her into madness, and to be honest, because of that, she bored me.  Ordinarily I would have just killed her, face down, but with the scrutiny I was under, the scrutiny
you
put me under, it seemed easier just to transfer her out.’

‘So why me Ennis, why Jessica, why the fuck have you involved my son in this.  If you want revenge against me then fill your fucking boots, rip my heart out and put it in your little plastic box, keep it as a puny trophy, but let my son go.’

Dr Ennis laughed again as he inveigled a second finger in the lesion he was making, savouring the discomfort Saul was experiencing.  Saul smarted as he started to dig into the flesh below.  ‘You think I have your son.  You think I have had Rebecca hidden away in here.  And you call yourself a Detective.  Someone knows what I have done Saul.  Someone knows and they are trying to expose me.  I am taking the opportunity to exact some sweet revenge before I have to disappear.  I have no idea who our friend Dr Hanlon really is yet, but when I do find out, you can be assured, he will suffer a worse fate than you.’

‘Is that right now, a worse fate than being nailed to a chair?’ came a voice from the doorway to the cell, a voice with an Irish lilt. 

Dr Ennis spun around quickly and grabbed the knife off the top of the trolley, dropping the hammer as he did.  ‘Dr Hanlon. I was hoping you would make an appearance.’ he said as he faced the old Irishman in the beige cardigan, tan slacks and Jesus sandals.

‘I hadn’t expected you to figure out about this place Gordon, I didn’t think you were that intelligent.’  Dr Hanlon goaded, seeing the rouge rise in Dr Ennis neck above the collar.

‘You arrogant bastard.’ sneered Ennis as he thrust himself towards Hanlon, and slashed the knife in an upward arc toward his chest.  Hanlon stepped back quickly, Ennis wrong footed by the swiftness with which the old man moved.  Hanlon raised a knee and dropped an arm, trapping Ennis thrusting arm between them, then banged his other hand down on Ennis wrist, knocking the knife to the floor.  Ennis swung his other arm around, the fist at the end of it smacking into Hanlon’s jaw, jolting the old man, who lifted both hands as he staggered under the impact and grabbed Ennis jacket lapels.  Ennis pushed forward into the hands, forcing Hanlon back against the cell wall, raising his own hands as he did, grabbing Hanlon by the neck.  As Ennis began squeezing, the skin started to peel away from Hanlon’s neck, his hands slipping with it, surprising him.  Hanlon took advantage of the moment, clamping his hands either side of Ennis’s head and twisting his arms viciously.  There was a loud snap as Ennis’s neck broke and he crumpled to the floor at Hanlon’s feet.                          

Saul looked on, confused, as the old man, strips of skin dangling from his neck and chin, deftly stepped over the now prone figure of Ennis and strode towards him.  He reached for the hammer on the floor and wrapped the claw end of it around the nail in Saul’s right hand.  ‘This may hurt a tad.’ he said as he tried to lever the nail out without digging the hammer into Saul’s hand.

‘It can’t hurt any more than when they went in.’ Saul said, grimacing as the nail moved against bone.  Dr Hanlon removed the first one, then started on the next, concentration on his face.

‘Who are you?’  Saul asked between gritted teeth as the nail in his other hand was prised out, Dr Hanlon crouching down to take the ones out of his feet.

Dr Hanlon smiled up at Saul as he positioned the claw around the nail in his left foot and pulled it out.  ‘Who I am isn’t important.’ he started in a clipped British accent. ‘Why you are here is important.’ he continued in his soft Irish twang, removing the nail from his right foot. ‘What you do next, is the most important thing of all.’ he ended, in a tone Saul recognised. 

‘Rob?’  Saul said, surprised, observing what he thought had been loose skin on Dr Hanlon’s chin.  It wasn’t skin, it was latex.  Dr Hanlon was wearing a mask.