Criminal Revenge Read Online Free PDF Page B

youths attacking a young fat boy. They had been like a pack of animals, kicking the prone body. His dog, Lulu, had gone mad barking and pulling at the lead. Byron was the last man to get involved in someone else’s business, but he had tried to intervene, he hadn’t been able to walk past. There had been so much blood that he had thought they’d killed the boy. He had called the emergency services from a phone box. As they had dispersed, the Asian youths had given him some verbal abuse, ‘faggot’, ‘dirty queer’ and a couple of ‘bummer’ references, probably because he was walking a poodle in the park. He thought that Lulu may have bitten one of them in the leg, but he couldn’t be sure. When Byron had called the emergency services and reported the incident, the police and an ambulance had arrived, and before he had known what was going on, he had been making a statement describing the attackers without considering the consequences. Since then things had become weird. ‘Queer’ had been daubed on his front door in yellow paint. A brick had smashed his front window, and when he walked the dog, he felt as if someone was following him. Lulu wouldn’t settle at all, either on the lead or at home. She seemed to sense danger was close by. As he walked around the park, he was mulling it all over in his mind when a voice called out.
    “Bummer!” a voice shouted out of the darkness, deep in the park. Byron could hear people laughing, but he couldn’t see them.
    “Queer boy!” echoed across the park. Byron couldn’t be certain that the abuse was aimed directly at him, but he had a gut feeling that it was. He walked a step quicker, but he could hear chattering voices and sniggering keeping pace with him from the darkness, behind the tree line.
    “Nice poodle, you big poof!”
    “Arse bandit!” This time the insult was hurled from the opposite side of the road. Byron turned and looked for his abuser, but there was no one in sight. The insulting references to his poodle left him with no doubt that he was the target of the abuse. He immediately made the connection with the Asian youths that he had encountered the week before, and the resulting police investigation. They couldn’t know that he had given a statement, could they?
    “Don’t bend down when Byron is around or you might get a penis up your arse!” several voices sang in unison. His abusers had adapted a song from the football terraces of the day, especially for him. Shadows moved against the darkness, just out of his range of sight. The voices belonged to young teenagers.
    Byron shivered. They knew his name. The police had assured him that his identity would be kept secret. Obviously not. He was a half-mile from home, and the pavements were well lit all the way. ‘There is nothing to be frightened of’, he told himself.
    “You’re dead, faggot!” another voice shouted. This time the abuse came from the opposite side of the road. There was a grassed area parallel to the pavement, planted with thick rhododendron bushes. Someone was hiding behind them, he could hear them rustling.
    “I’ll call the police as soon as I get home, you don’t frighten me.” Byron tried to sound assertive, but he did not. His voice was reedy, almost camp. People often mistook him as a gay man because of his voice and demeanour. The streets were empty and the traffic was sparse. There was no one he could turn to for help.
    “You talk to the pigs too much, bum boy,” a reply came from the park again. Byron turned sharply, the voices nearer this time. His heart raced, pounding in his chest. He had seen the level of violence that this gang of teenagers were capable of first hand, and he had no wish to become their next victim. The young boy that he had rescued had been slashed and beaten to a pulp by them.
    Byron walked on quickly, surrounded by a dangerous entity that he could feel tingling on his skin, even though he couldn’t actually see them. Lulu knew that they