A L Becker - See You in Hell

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About the Author

Anne Becker was born in Essex but has spent the majority of her

adult life in Bristol, where she currently works as a secretary. Asa child she played tennis at every opportunity, but severe pain

and ongoing health problems eventually put a stop to this.Although her other passion for writing lived on, and saw Anne

become more determined than ever to fulfil this lifelong dream,and become a published author – despite her health!.


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Dedication

I would like to dedicate this book to my parents, for generally

being superb and helping me to achieve my dream, my sister,Karen for her continued support, and to my best friend Charlotte

Foxall for not just being supportive, but for being my toughestcritic.


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nne Becker

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O U I N

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E L L


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Copyright © Anne Becker (2015)

The right of Anne Becker to be identified as author of this workhas been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of

the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may bereproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any

form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the

publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims

for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the BritishLibrary.

ISBN 978 1 78554 345 6 (Paperback)ISBN 978 1 78554 346 3 (Hardback)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2015)Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd.

25 Canada SquareCanary Wharf

LondonE14 5LQ

Printed and bound in Great Britain


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Chapter One

Throwing his head back, James laughed wildly as he removedthe switchblade from his ‘girlfriend’s’ chest. He referred toher as his girlfriend, but by no means was she. She was simply

a female whom James had developed a dark and twistedobsession with; although, in his eyes, this obsession signifiedlove. A love that wasn’t pure and beautiful— but tainted and

ugly. She, on the other hand, didn’t even know he existed… until today.

James laughed as he stared down at the now lifeless bodyof Mel Holster. His Mel. His possession to do with as he

pleased, and he was most definitely pleased. He felt so alive,

so powerful, so all controlling. Like a God. James wallowedin these emotions, as he bent down and kissed her on the lips

for the very last time. “Bye, bitch, thanks for the good times,” he said through fits of hysterical laughter.

Mel lay naked on the bed beneath his straddled legs. Herarms were tied at the wrists to each bed post, with yellow

cable ties. Her eyes, still open, still terrified. The fear having been etched into them for all eternity. James stared into her

eyes. Drawn to the darkness that now filled them. Deathreturned his gaze. James considered death a close friend and

enjoyed feeding it with the women he chose. He loved towatch life as it left the body, as it slipped away from anotherhuman being, and having the power and control to take it. It


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was almost climatic to him. Better than sex. Better thananything …

Finally James sat back and began taking in the whole sick

scene around him. Her blood, slowly running down from herchest and onto his thigh filling him with an intense delight that

one might get from the act of sex itself. His eyes widened ashe looked down at the red liquid. Excited by it. Trapped in the

power it held over him. James moved his fingers through the

blood. He enjoyed its touch, the way it smelt. It was just sointoxicating to him; filling his senses with a sick pleasure. Asthe time ticked by, James remained in the same position, still

enthralled by this bloody sensation. Almost drunk on it.

Eventually he awoke from the madness of the trance and

wiped the switchblade, he had continued holding since he’dremoved it from her, onto the bed sheets. He stood up on the

bed, still straddling her, staring down at her lifeless body.

James thought to himself how beautiful she was, just lyingthere. Even in death. In fact, she was even more beautiful now

… dead!As a young man he had tried to cling to the light, as

darkness and an evil so twisted took hold of his entire being.

But that light had gone out years ago. Evil had long sinceconsumed him and he loved it. Evil was his master now andhe obeyed it willingly.

“This is all on you,” he said, pointing at Mel with the

knife. This was her fault. James’s twisted sense of logic pushing the entire blame back at Mel’s door. She had led him

here. Led him to this point, practically begging him to kill her,to end it all. He had simply obliged … with relish. Although,the only begging that Mel had actually done, was for her own

life. A plea which had continued to fall on deaf ears. For shehad to die, the darkness had wanted it. Death itself had willed

it. James had simply been the tool with which death had

chosen to complete this task and to claim her soul.

He had become so completely obsessed with Mel, from

the way she looked to who she spoke to. He had followed heraround for a short while. Building up a frenzy within. This


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wasn’t how he normally operated. Wasting his precious timeon a kill … but this was different. A one off. It had begun soinnocently. An accidental meeting in the street. Mel had

unintentionally bumped into him. A misfortune she wouldlater come to seriously regret. She had politely apologised and

then continued on her way. Forgetting the incident almost asquickly as it had happened. James hadn’t f orgotten. For he hadre-written the scene differently in his head. To him she had

planned it. She had wanted it, wanted him. At the time, Jameshad just smiled politely and muttered a banal response. But hehad definitely seen and felt a connection between the two of

them. Her eyes had said what her mouth had not.James jumped off the bed, off her. It wasn’t a bold jump,

but still, it seemed to take forever to land. Finally his feettouched the ground and he sauntered out of the bedroom, likea man without a care in the world. He entered her en-suite,

then poked his head back round the door for a quick glance atMel. As though he thought she might not be there when he

returned. Her dead body, covered in blood seemed to attracthim even more than it had before.

He smiled, turned and opened the shower. James ran the

shower, waiting for the water to heat up, then he got in, lettingthe hot water wash all over him. The warmth of the waterrelaxing his aching muscles. Killing was a tiring sport, but a

good one. James watched as Mel’s blood dripped off his thighand disappeared down the waiting plughole. He stood

motionless under the shower for what seemed like an age, justwatching the blood take its final journey. Lost in the calmnessof the moment. Losing himself in memories from the past. Itfelt good. No, it felt great.

Eventually he turned off the water and got out of theshower. Finding one of Mel’s neatly folded towels, he

wrapped it round his lower body. Then picking up another

smaller towel, he began to dry himself off. As he driedhimself he moved over to the bathroom mirror, and stopping

briefly, wiped the steam filled glass. James stared into thenow clear glass and smiled at his reflection. He liked what he


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saw. A strong man, a powerful man … A God. A controller oflife and death. His identity had been forged long ago by thedepravity within him, leading him to this bathroom on this

balmy May evening.

When basically dry, James let the towels drop to the floor

and just stood there naked. Once upon a time he had beenextremely toned and muscled. A body to die for, or so he’d

been told. But that was all ‘once upon a time’, these days

things were slightly different. He no longer really cared forthe gym, or for exercising, or even for diet. For life had just somuch more to offer him. He had too much to do. James was

still muscular, but had lost weight. Too much weight, and wasnow a bit too thin for his frame. Probably because coffee had

become his staple diet. Food no longer interested him. He ate purely to stay alive. Though through his eyes, well, his bodysimply looked fantastic. James had always been blessed with

the good looks, but this weight loss had drawn his cheeks in just a bit too much, making him look almost ill.

James walked back into the bedroom and dressed,watching Mel the whole time, as if he was waiting for her todo something. She didn’t! Walking over to her he sat down on

the bed next to her lifeless body and lit a cigarette. James hadspent hours dreaming of what he was going to do to her, howhe was going to kill her. Her death getting more sick and

twisted with each dream. Each time he would wake, he would be convinced the act was real. That his dreams were true. For

his reality and his dream world were beginning to merge intoone sick place. So entwined, that it was becoming hard to seewhere one ended and the other began.

James finished his cigarette and walked over to the

bedroom window, which was already ajar, and flicked thecigarette butt out into the bushes below. Turning back to face

the room again, he paused for a moment, grabbed the

switchblade from his jeans pocket and decided on his nextcourse of action. It was time to make his exit.

He stood still; he needed to think this next stage through.Come up with a plan that cleared him of all suspicion of this


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murder. He smiled, this is fun, he thought to himself. Thescene needed to be rearranged. To be set. With hisswitchblade clasp firmly in his hand he walked casually over

to the bed once more and cut the yellow cable ties from Mel’swrists. Putting the pieces along with the switchblade, into his

pocket. James then repositioned her limp arms, putting themdown by her side. He wasn’t the least bit worried about his

prints being all over the victim and the crime scene; for he

was the boyfriend after all … It was perfect. Easilyexplainable when he spoke to the police, and he would speakto the police. He wanted to speak to the police. He wanted to

inject himself into the investigation. To be at the centre of itall, at least to start with anyway. He wanted, no needed, to see

their response to his work, to his art. They will be soimpressed, yet so dumbfounded, he chuckled to himself at thethought and continued with his plan.

James felt drunk on the rush of it all. He returned to theen-suite and hung up the towels to dry. Just like he assumed

Mel would have done, well any woman would have done, andthen returned to the bedroom.

He slipped on a pair of white latex gloves, that lived in

his pocket as part of his ‘kill kit’, for it was now time to becareful … to be clever. To fool the police and then to just sit

back and watch them chase a phantom of his creation. The

idea appealed to him and he laughed out loud, as he surveyedthe room.

James looked around the bedroom for anything that was

there that shouldn’t be. Anything out of place. He was aboutto set the scene, and the scene he had chosen was a robberygone wrong. He quite literally ransacked Mel’s bedroom.

Emptying drawers, opening wardrobes and taking anything hethought looked vaguely valuable. As he worked, he noticed

her handbag lying under a chair. Reaching down, James

grabbed it and quickly tipped the contents out onto the floor,taking any bank, credit cards and any cash as he went. Not

that there was much money, but it would at least buy him a


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few drinks. “Thanks, bitch,” he said sarcastically as he stuffedthe money and cards into his pockets.

Standing back up, James noticed her mobile phone lying

on her bedside table, face down. He went over to it, picking itup. It was on silent. Luckily Mel hadn’t set up a PIN code or

any form of security on the device, so he was able to play withit. He navigated to her messages, quickly deleting all of them.He then moved on to her call logs, where he repeated his

actions. With this done, James inserted his name and phonenumber into Mel’s contact list. For she would surely have herboyfriend’s details in her mobile. What a fuckin’ laugh , he

thought to himself, as he found her phone’s number and addedit to his. James then proceeded to ring Mel’s mobile, hoping it

would somehow go towards his alibi, and left an attempt at aloving voicemail on it. Finished and pleased with himself, hetossed Mel’s mobile phone under her bed, so that the police

would find it, and just assume this phantom killer had simplymissed in his haste to leave the scene. It was all just so easy.

James smiled as he scanned the room one more time. Hiswork here was done. Walking over to the door he switched offthe light and started to leave the room, but paused and turned

back round to face her again, “Goodbye, sweetheart, see youin a little while … miss me,” he said cruelly mocking theinnocent soulless body that lay still and limp on the bed.

James then left the room.

Once downstairs he proceeded to give those rooms thesame treatment that he had Mel’s bedroom, ransacking them,

tearing her beloved home apart. When everything wasarranged to his satisfaction, to how he thought it should look,he left the property via the back door. Making sure to smash

the glass from the outside in, and making sure to leave thelock damaged and the door slightly ajar. Proud of his work,

James left, walking quickly, but calmly, so as not to draw

attention to himself, back to his car, which he had previously parked a couple of roads away, down a small dark house-less

lane.


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He got in removing the latex gloves and emptying all ofMel’s items from his pockets, putting them into a small plastic

bag that he kept in the glove box. James returned the plastic

bag to the glove box and sat back in the driver’s seat, closinghis eyes for just a moment. He was tired. The kill had taken it

out of him … But boy was it worth it he thought to himself,grinning.

After a short while he opened his eyes again and

retrieving his mobile phone from his pocket, proceeded to callMel’s mobile. He rang it 3, maybe 4 times, but left twomessages. With this stage of his plan now complete, James

returned his phone back to his pocket and laughed. A laugh,that sounded as sinister as the thoughts that were currently

racing round his brain.

Now, it was just a waiting game. He had to allow forenough time to pass before he could return to the house and

actually find the lifeless body of the woman he had recentlymurdered. The plan is so perfect , he thought to himself amidst

the laughter. He just needed a witness. An unsuspectingneighbour who would unwittingly alibi him and witness himfinding Mel’s body. “Genius,” he said out loud as he turned

on the ignition so he could open the driver’s window and havea cigarette. He sat there, eyes almost closed again, relaxing, ashe smoked a much-needed cigarette. For it had been an

incredibly exciting and fun-packed evening for him, and he just needed to take a step back. Just a few seconds away from

the madness, to calm down, to chill out … until the madness begun again, in the form of the second phase of his master plan.

Hours passed until he finally turned deciding that the

time had come. His buzz of earlier which had subduedslightly, returned with a vengeance. The car drove quietly out

of the secluded lane and back to civilisation, where he floored

the accelerator pedal and sped off down the streets and back toMel’s. Now being as noisy as he possibly could. He turned his

CD player up loud, blaring the music out through the openwindow of his car. He revved the car excessively, until he


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finally screeched to a stop outside Mel’s house. Drawing asmuch attention to himself as he could. For this time, Jamesneeded to be seen, to be heard. This time he wanted a witness

to identify him and, more importantly, the time of his arrival… But for once, no-one was watching. No curtain twitched,

no front door opened … nothing. James got out of the car andwalked up to her front door. He rang the bell. He rang it again.Of course there was no answer. He started shouting loudly

through the letterbox, “Mel, Mel.” Still nothing. The streetremained as quiet as it should at such a late hour. Jameslooked round at the neighbouring houses. They were all in

darkness, in silence. He couldn’t quite believe it. Yes, it waslate, but still, after all that noise he was making, surely

someone would come out and tell him to keep it down. Hestarted to get annoyed that no-one was watching, that hewasn’t getting any attention, so called out her name again,

“Mel … Mel … Honey it’s me,” Nope, still nothing. This is fuckin’ ridiculous , he thought to himself as the angerintensified inside him. Standing on Mel’s doorstep, he turned

and looked around again. Staring into the darkness. Justlooking for that light to go on in one of the houses. “For

God’s sake,” he shouted at the street. The sound of his voiceseemed to almost echo in the darkness, but then gotswallowed up by the silence of the night.

James needed a witness. It was essential he have awitness. The plan depended on it. He walked round to the

back of her house and smirked as he saw the smashed glassand the opened back door. He tried to feign concern. A lookand a feeling he wasn’t really familiar with, or evenunderstand. He counted to ten, and then raced round to the

front of the house, acting as though he had just seen thedamaged, open back door of his so-called girlfriend’s house,

for the very first time and was worried for her safety, yet tooscared for his own to enter the house alone. He continuedrunning past Mel’s house and up to her neighbour’s front

door, and rang the bell. Staying in character as he waited for aresponse. Finally a light went on inside the property and aman, in his late fifties, opened the door. The man was


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yawning, wearing a deep purple dressing gown “Yes,” he saidhalf asleep. “Hello… … oh my God … something’s wrongnext door … please help me … please,” stammered James, as

he tried desperately not to laugh. He almost soundedfrightened, almost. James waited for a response. The man just

stood there for a while, drowsy, wanting to be back in thewarmth and comfort of his bed. He looked quizzically atJames, “What’s happened, what’s wrong?” James went

through a brief account of the situation, telling the man that heafter getting no answer from the front door he went round tothe rear of the property and found Mel’s back door smashed

open, but he was too scared to enter the house on his own.James tried to cry, but couldn’t, so just touched his face in a

manner that implied tears. It was dark anyway, so the actionitself would most probably be enough. James spoke, wipinghis eyes as he did so, “Something’s happened to Mel …

Please help me.” Inwardly James was impressed by his actingskills. He had been practicing, but this, well, it was just damnsuperb.

The seemingly convinced man called back to his wife,who was standing further back, just out of sight of the front

door. Something was amiss next door. As James waited, eagerto get this show on the road, the man slipped on a pair oftrainers that sat in a shoe rack right by the front door, and

grabbed a torch from the hallway cupboard drawer. Finallyready, the two men left the house and headed over to Mel’s.

One excited, one nervous. As the two men walked in silenceround to the back of the property, James’s head was filledwith an uncontrollable laughter. He was enjoying this littlecharade, enjoying it very much. Yet on the outside his

demeanour was that of a scared boyfriend. His buzz hadreturned. His body tingling in anticipation.

As the men reached Mel’s back door, James showed his

new found friend the damage and the cause for his obviousconcern. The man eyed the damage, and silently pushed the

door wide open. Shining his torch inside. As he stepped overthe threshold his nervousness heightened, but he continuedanyway. Glad that he wasn’t alone, even though this


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accomplice was a complete stranger to him. James followedthe man quietly. Once inside James automatically flicked onthe lights, much to the annoyance of the other, who not only

had his torch, but was concerned that the intruder may still bewithin. James, of course, knew better.

As soon as the lights came on, the two men were able tosee the mess in the kitchen, and then in each subsequent roomthey entered downstairs. “Oh my God,” cried James, trying to

seem and sound surprised. The man may not have found him believable had he not been shocked at the scene himself.Eventually they reached the stairs and both looked up. The

older man gulped, pausing for a second. He was a strong man, but this situation unnerved him. The guy could still be up

there, he thought to himself, as he slowly climbed the stairs.Again James followed. Willing the man to speed up, for thiswas now boring him rigid, and he was finding it hard not to

show it.

As they reached the top, James pointed out which of the

rooms was Mel’s bedroom. Goading the man to moveforward, to enter the bedroom and to finally find the body.This was taking too long. They sidled over to the room, and

slowly pushed open the door. Once open, James reachedround and flicked on the light. He was excited to see heragain. As the room lit up the older man froze at the sight that

met him. It was just such a horrific scene, and not one youexpect to find your neighbour’s house. “Oh my God,” they

both said in unison. “Mel, noooooo … Mel,” shouted James ashe rushed over to the bed, before the older man could grabhim and stop him. He kissed the corpse on lips, pulling hercloser to him and grabbing at her breasts in the process. This

time crying through genuine exhilaration. “She’s … dead,” heshouted over his shoulder as he finally released her from his

clutches. The man ran over, pulled James away from the body,

and practically carried him quickly out of Mel’s house and back to the safety of his own.

“Call the police,” he shouted to his wife as he rushed,with James, through his own front door. His wife paused for a


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split second, seeing the shock on her husband’s face and thestrange look on the other man’s. “Now,” yelled the man nextdoor … “she’s dead … murdered.” Upon hearing the words,

the man’s wife took her eyes off James and ran to the phone. As she called the police, her husband ushered James into the

living room and sat him down on the brown leather sofa.James held his head in his hands, and started to rock. He’dseen people do that when overcome with sadness, on

television, so just mimicked the action. Hiding his face fromthe good Samaritans, so they couldn’t see him tryingdesperately not to laugh. Priceless, absolutely priceless, he

thought to himself as he sat there, enjoying the moment.Exactly where he wanted to be, smack bang in the centre of it

all.

The man’s wife viewed the scene before her from acompletely different perspective to that of James. She saw a

man so broken up by the death of his girlfriend. A man soheartbroken at not only the loss of a loved one, but also at

being the one to find her body. Her heart went out to him.Feeling wrongly sorry for this stranger in her living room, she plied him with hot sweet tea, for the shock. For the shock that

James didn’t have. He thanked her politely, whilst thinking tohimself how much he would like to watch her die, painfully.

The three of them sat and waited for the police to arrive.

The couple so totally oblivious to the fact that they had Mel’skiller, sat right there on their sofa.


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Chapter Two

Detective Inspector Arnold D’George stood, with a youngernewer detective, next to the sofa, where the two men were sat.

One in absolute shock and one in absolute pleasure. Theyounger detective took out a notepad and pen and was

meticulously taking down every word that came out of themen’s mouths. Whilst the Inspector posed the questions.

James looked stunned. A look he had long since mastered.Every so often he would hold his head or rub his eyes, as if tostop a stray tear from falling down his face. Arnold D’George

put a fatherly hand on the young man’s shoulder and

continued probing them about the night’s drama.

James was getting fed up. This part was turning out to be

less fun than he had initially anticipated. He was bored andtired, and just wanted to see Mel’s body for one final time, asit was carried from the house. He needed to get outside.

Suddenly James got up from the comfortable sofa and turnedto face the Inspector, “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, as he didn’tknow how his tone should really sound in this situation.

Probably not as pleased with himself as he felt. “I need acigarette, would it be OK if I went outside?” The Inspectornodded, leaving his colleague to take the rest of the older

gentleman’s statement, and followed James out of the livingroom and out of the house.

Once outside James lit up a cigarette and offered the packet to the Inspector, who thanked him but declined. “I


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loved her,” he said randomly to the officer without looking athim. Arnold simply nodded. The casual interrogation lastedfor another forty or fifty minutes, before the Inspector at last

wrapped the whole thing up. Finally, thought James,exhausted and bored by the banality of the questions. This part

hadn’t gone at all how he had expected, and having to soundand act in a manner that was alien to him was also taking itstoll, draining him of the last of his energy. The buzz of earlier

had most definitely gone, leaving him empty, shattered andready for bed.

The Inspector watched James’s face as Mel’s body,

hidden in a body bag, was carried on a stretcher out of thehouse. As he watched, he was sure the young man’s face

changed. He was sure, for just a split second, that he saw aslight smirk cross the man’s lips. It had only been slight, but ithad been a smirk none the less. James wasn’t aware that he

was being watched. For he was suddenly in a world of hisown. A world with just him, Mel and the darkness of death.

The whole thing started to excite him again. Started to rousehim from the tiredness he felt. Knowing he had put her in that body bag, deciding that her life was now done. He, and only

he, had the power over life and death. A power that almostenergised him.

As the doors to the vehicle closed shut behind the bag

that contained Mel’s lifeless body, James left his own littleworld and returned back to the chaos around him. The chaos

that he had initiated. He turned round to face the Inspectoronce again. Still oblivious to what the officer had justobserved. “Get the bastard who did this,” spoke James in asangry a voice as he could muster. As he spoke he stared

directly into Inspector D’George’s eyes. The officer, returninghis gaze, spoke softly yet confidently, “Oh we will, sir, you

can be sure of that.” James nodded, amused by the response,

by the certainty of the man’s answer. Bollocks, he thought tohimself, You catch me … never … … you can’t catch God !

James held his hand out and the Inspector shook it.“Thank you,” smiled James, then turned to leave the scene,


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but only to be stopped in his tracks by the Inspector’s voice. “Mr Quint,” called Arnold D’George. “Yes?” seethed Jamesthrough gritted teeth, as he turned back round to face the

officer who was now infuriating him. “We will need you tocome down to the station at your earliest convenience, so we

can take your fingerprints —” “My fingerprints?” interruptedJames, who was somewhat surprised and annoyed by therequest. “Yes,” continued the Inspector, “so that we can

eliminate them from the scene.” Arnold D’George’s voice wasso calm, yet his mind was going frantic. Thoughts, ideas,questions, all racing round his brain. James smiled politely,

although he felt far from civility, “Why of course I will.That’s no problem.” Both men now smiled at each other … …

yet neither man meant it!

James turned away once more, this time with a new angerraging from within. He started walking away from the officer,

and as he did, he automatically breathed a sigh of relief. Arelief that he had made it through the barrage of questioning,

and the silent mind games. James’s shoulders dropped as hedid so.

Inspector Arnold D’George was still watching James

Quint. Still watching as he turned away. Still watching as his body appeared to relax, and relax too soon. Still watching,always watching… … and the Inspector was not a happy man.

James Quint reached his car. He got in and immediately

just sped away into the night. As the distance grew betweenhimself and the crime scene, that he had so cleverly staged,

James began screaming out loud, “Fuck you… … fuck youall.”

Back at the crime scene, Arnold D’George wasn’t the

least bit impressed with the young Mr Quint. He had stoodstaring, even after James was well out of sight. Just staring

into the darkness, lost in his own thoughts, and it was these

thoughts that worried him greatly. He hadn’t liked JamesQuint at all. There had been just something about the man,

something that had got under his skin. He was concerned andhe wasn’t sure why. Arnold couldn’t shake the feeling that


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James had lied to him. But lied about what exactly? hethought to himself. The Inspector couldn’t put his finger on it,not yet anyway. He shook the thoughts from his head, for the

moment at least, and walked back into the neighbour’s houseto join his fellow officer.

The two men’s statements were basically identical, aswell they should be, and there was, at present, nothing to thecontrary … But as Arnold D’George stood in Mel’s

neighbours living room, a strong feeling of unease washedover him!

Documents

A L Becker - See You in Hell