The Principle of Evil: A Fast-Paced Serial Killer Thriller. T.M.E. Walsh
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head tucked down with her chin resting on her chest. He saw her body shake violently as sobs overcame her. He allowed her a few moments of respite before the inevitable came.
08:32 a.m.
Rachel woke to the sound of someone banging on her front door. She bolted from the bed and ran. She flung open the front door, ignoring the cold that flooded in from outside.
‘Nola?’
‘Erm, no,’ replied Olivia, standing with a large McDonald’s paper bag under one arm. She stared at Rachel from head to toe. ‘You may wanna put more clothes on, Rach,’ she said, pushing her way over the threshold. ‘It’s like minus ten or something.’
Rachel looked down at her thin pyjama bottoms and bra, but she didn’t care. The cold was nothing compared to the inner torment she’d had to put up with all night.
‘I got us breakfast,’ Olivia said, heading towards the kitchen. She started pulling out the cardboard cartons from the paper bag. ‘I hope you’re hungry.’ She took a large bite of her burger. ‘Oh, that’s good,’ she said with her mouth full.
Rachel looked at her, despondent. ‘I thought you were Nola.’
Olivia stopped chewing, keeping her eyes trained to the floor.
‘I’ve still not heard from her.’
Finishing her mouthful, Olivia turned to face her. ‘You told Daryl yet?’
‘Have I hell,’ Rachel said, reaching for her burger. ‘He’s been calling though.’
‘What you been telling him?’
‘I’ve been avoiding answering.’
Olivia gave a mock laugh. ‘FYI, that’s not wise.’ Rachel threw her burger down on the counter and rested her face in her hands.
‘I know, I know,’ she said. ‘I’ve left him a voicemail saying she’s been with a punter for a few days, that she’d been paid up front, but I can’t keep it up much longer.’ She picked up her burger again and took a large bite. ‘He’s started leaving me nasty messages already,’ she said between mouthfuls.
‘Course he has, that’s Daryl.’ Olivia chewed the last mouthful of her Big Mac and dusted her hands together, sending crumbs to the floor. ‘Look, way I see it, Nola’s gone AWOL ’cos she don’t want to be found. You can’t force her, Rach. She knows the price she’ll pay if she runs out on Daryl – we all do.’ She placed a hand on Rachel’s shoulder.
Sadly, Rachel knew from personal experience just what he was capable of. Daryl Thomas was their pimp. He ran their lives for them, as he did with all of his girls. He took a big percentage of what they earned on the street, dictated to them what to wear, how to act, and told them who they could talk to, and what he would do if any of them tried to walk out on him.
Rachel had tried it once – a long time ago now it seemed – and she had nearly got away from him. If it hadn’t been for another girl giving her away (Rachel never did find out who), she would’ve been free of him. On that occasion it had taken seventeen stitches to put her head wound back together and another five in her split lip, followed by several trips back and forth to the hospital until her arm was fixed again after a difficult break. All things considered, she’d got off lightly, compared to what Daryl had done to others.
She watched Olivia pull out her hairbrush from her bag and run it through her long hair, and wished she could be more like her; living each day as it came, and never really worrying about anything.
Despite her slight frame, Olivia was tough and streetwise. Rachel was the opposite; her long auburn hair, with large curls, made her look younger than her twenty years. Her build was average, and she was taller than Olivia, but she wasn’t anywhere near as robust.
She was about to ask Olivia what she thought she should do about Daryl, when they both heard Nancy Boy by Placebo echoing from Rachel’s room.
They stared at each other, motionless as statues.
Rachel shrieked. ‘My phone!’
Both girls nearly fell over themselves, as they skidded across the hall and into the bedroom. Rachel’s mobile was flashing on her bedside cabinet, but the call diverted to voicemail as she picked it up. She pressed the answer button anyway.
‘Hello? Nola?’
‘You missed the call,’ Olivia sighed as she launched herself onto Rachel’s bed. ‘You should’ve kept it on you.’
‘The caller ID says unknown, it might not have been her.’
‘Probably Daryl then.’
Rachel was silent and stared at her phone, willing it to ring again. After a few minutes the phone lit up and let out a beep.
1 New Voicemail Msg
Both girls looked at each other, then the phone.
Rachel hesitated.
‘You gonna listen to that or what?’
Rachel looked at Olivia then the phone again. She swallowed hard as she pressed the button to retrieve the message. Warily, she held the mobile to her ear.
Her eyes widened as the message played out. It sounded so surreal, she didn’t even know whether to believe it or not. She remained silent and when the message finished, she felt tears pricking at the surface of her eyes, like thousands of tiny red-hot needles.
*
08:45 a.m.
Nola wailed as the man hung up her mobile and tossed it to the floor. The lid of the battery compartment came away on impact and cracked, but the phone itself seemed to be intact and working. He’d deliberately withheld the number when placing the call moments ago.
As she hung upside down, tethered to a steel framework attached to the ceiling, her arms hung down, hands grasping at nothing but air. She knew she was too far from the mobile to reach it but still she tried.
She saw his big black boots come into view. He placed his foot on her mobile, then raised it high before bringing it crashing down. The cracking sound from her only source of help resounded in her ears. Her eyes clamped shut, her mouth pinched, as she fought back fresh tears.
Her senses were tingling. She was so cold. A draught was coming from a gap under the wooden door to the building. She’d been stripped naked and was now hanging precariously from the rafters, open to whatever torment was to come.
Her blood rushed to her head and she prayed she would black out.
The man watched her, eyes looking like dark holes. The pits of hell set deep in his pale face. She pleaded with him as he drew nearer but it was pointless. He held the knife at his side for her to see. The best she could now hope for was that it would be over quickly. She closed her eyes tight, bracing herself.
Then she felt the blade.
*
08:46 a.m.
‘We’ve got to go to the police.’
‘And tell them what?’
Olivia was now losing patience, and paced the room. Rachel was already getting dressed, stumbling as she pulled her trainers on her feet.
‘I’ll tell them Nola’s missing and about the call,’ she rushed, grabbing her coat as she made her way to the front door. ‘They’ll help.’ Olivia, following behind, reached out and grabbed her hand as she touched the door handle.
‘We’ve got to work, Rach,’ she said, her eyes looking deadly serious. ‘Daryl wants to see us.’
Rachel was frozen by her words. Daryl wanting to see them suddenly meant one thing – trouble. ‘What’ve you told him, Livi?’
‘Nothing,’ she said, averting her glance from Rachel.
‘You’re