“Oooh! The blonde! Do the blonde next!”
“Hush Caroline. This isn’t a game.”
I look over at her. She’s as beautiful as the day I met her. I blow her a kiss, and she blushes.
“Oh stop it you.”
I chuckle as I turn back to face the girls. The blonde is dry eyed. I like that.
“Tell me your names.”
“I’m Brittany. Brittany Thanau.”
I can’t tell if her boldness is authentic or a front. Doesn’t matter. Caroline needs company.
“And you? What is your name?”
The dark girl is very small, very dark. Her hair is thick and uncombed, and her lips are very pink and very full. Most people would gravitate to the blonde, but darkie is much more striking to me.
“Aoede.” her voice is small but remarkably deep. But her voice cracks as she speaks.
“My name is Aoede.” Her voice firms up a little.
I like these girls.
“Do you like them, Caroline?”
“I like the blonde. Aoede’s a little too small.”
“But she’s so striking! Look at those cheekbones! That hair. She’s amazing.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. It’s not like I can touch her.”
Caroline is pouting. It makes me laugh.
“That is true,” I reply.
The girls are tied back to back on uncomfortable plastic chairs. It seems cruel, so I think I’ll just do this and get it over with.
“Blonde first!” Caroline yells.
“Okay, okay! Calm down.”
I cut Brittany’s ropes with a switchblade, then drag her by her lush blond locks to a table with a groove and a hole in one side. I push her down and her head fits the hole quite snugly. She’s struggling now, but it’s futile.
“Isn’t it comfortable enough, darling?”
I’m not really asking, and her feistiness is beginning to grate. I hit her hard on the back of her head, and she slumps. Caroline gasps. I reel. I’ve never hit a woman before. She’s weeping, Brittany is. Quietly, heart-wrenchingly. I pull her to her feet.
“I’m so sorry.”
Caroline is shocked.
“Did you just apologise?”
I don’t reply. I loosen her binds, and Aoede’s too.
“You guys can go,” I say.
The response is not totally unexpected, but a barrage of punches is never a nice thing.
“You f@#£&! psycho! Maniac! What the hell?!”
Brittany goes on in that vein for a while, hitting me as I block her blows as well as I can. I don’t lose my temper again, and she doesn’t stop until she’s spent.
“You’re a bastard,” she says, rather quietly.
Because Aoede’s walking up to me on tip toes, padding silently like a silver fox.
“Were you really going to kill us?” She asks.
“I’m afraid so.” I can see Caroline’s astonished face out of the corner of my eye. I ignore her.
What a question. I print a map off Google so they won’t have trouble getting to the nearest bus stop. I hand it to Aoede, and she takes it and hands it to Britanny.
“Get going,” she says.
Britanny turns and leaves without a backward glance. I’m surprised, but I take it in my stride as Aoede turns back to me and comes closer.
“Don’t bother to answer my question,” she says. I nod.
“I can help you,” she continues. It’s a statement of fact that comes out in the gentlest of whispers, seductive, mind blowing. I realise I want her help, so I hold her close and urge her to tell me more.
“Is Caroline your friend?”
“Yes. My best friend,” I muse for a moment. “My only friend.”
“I can be your friend too.”
“I’d like that very much.”
“Close your eyes.”
I obey, completely under Aoede’s spell. I feel the sharp point slip between my ribs, efficient like surgery before I have a chance to figure out what’s going on.
“Friends don’t kill their friends,” she says, pointedly looking away from the greenish grey head on the bookshelf, a head that had once belonged to her sister, Caroline.
Our first horror/thriller story on Stories.ng is written by Olumide (@tomboxe). We will publish horror stories on Fridays from now on so get ready to scare us and be scared. (All drafts to email@example.com as usual).
Thank you Olumide!