Devil's Demise Read Online Free PDF Page B

Susan’s blood and other fluids invisible to the eye. He swithered whether to watch a DVD from his vast collection of sadistic porn, which he regularly imported from Amsterdam, or to just put the TV on. His mind was made up by the six foot journey to the closest porn DVD, which was lying on the floor, buried in old fast food cartons, dirty stale washing and months of grime, and he elected to watch TV. With the remote he flicked through the channels to find BBC News 24, hoping his little escapade last night would rightfully be headline news.
    Reaching under the bed for his cigarettes he froze, his ears fully alert to the words he was hearing from the screen as he turned his head to see the headlines.
    “A WOMAN ESCAPES WITH HER LIFE, AFTER HORRORATTACK IN HER OWN HOME.” The story went on to state that a man and his dog were slain within the grounds of the property, possibly having disturbed the suspect whilst waiting for his planned victim. The story went on to list Susan Hamilton’s injuries, stating that several of them had been life-threatening in their own right. The news reader added that the knife used in what was believed to have been the intended final and fatal blow had only just superficially cut into the victim’s heart muscle, narrowly failing to rupture any of the chambers within, but that if hit would have guaranteed her certain death.
    He lay there totally shocked, just staring at the ceiling; his breath rasped into his lungs before his fury escaped in a loud wail. It went on and on until there was no longer any air to carry on. He stood up, his tall frame spoilt by his soft belly hanging over his sagging unclean underpants. His arms were extremely hairy, but still noticeably strong from his years of manual labour; his chest still showed the remnants of what was once a very muscular and well-built man. He punched the door, his fist creating a hole right through to the hallway. He didn’t even flinch as his knuckles started to swell and bleed, the pain almost giving his anger some sort of outlet to escape. He could not believe after all his good work last night that the fucking bitch had survived; she was so small, insignificant and defenceless and he had totally underestimated her, and her will to live.
    John Brennan was a 48 year old recently divorced man. He had worked as a scaffolder for 20 years and had recently taken a job in the City Centre, City and View, the Capital Cities’ CCTV hub, which covered all the known troublesome areas of Edinburgh and the busy city centre night spots. He worked there four days on and four days off, leaving him plenty of time to devote to his new project. He was unimaginably punctual and managed to fulfil the requirements of his job, knowing that was how he could manage to appear normal. He could fly beneath the radar and remain unnoticed by the ever present and prying eyes of the police. He was also very aware of the areas not covered by the police’s vital source of evidence, the city’s CCTV. He knew where big brother could not see him and he intended to make full use of this privileged knowledge.
    John pulled out his laptop angrily and started surfing the web for his next important lady. He thought to himself,
isn’t free
dom
of information a fantastic tool for people like me?
This was an unguarded window into the private lives of so many people, with lots of helpful information about all of these wonderfully successful women. His deep rooted bitterness, hatred and anger towards the fairer sex radiated from him, his need to erase his recent misjudgement at the front of his mind. He had spent a lot of time with the last one and didn’t feel that he could wait too long to get his next fix, his rage spurring him on and his desire visible.
    Last night had made him feel so powerful, totally in control; he didn’t have to listen or agree to anything she said, didn’t have to do anything she wanted, just stamp his authority all over her, which he had done, over and