A thick layer of drizzle tinted across the streets, and a glimmer of carroty street lamps, gave a shimmering shield across the roads. The light rustle of leafs concealed with a night lamp was the only movement in sight.
Because it was dark, the whole street lay motionless like a picture, at the end of the narrow street you could just about spot, a mucky, menacing uncanny alleyway.
It was fairly wider than your average alleyway, and also much different, it looked almost like another street, but with a bendy curve. Immediately as you walk past it you can smell something strange, which oozes with an unpleasant and mysterious type of smell. There is no light leading into the alleyway, the night lamps appear to stop almost nine yards before it. Anyone who lives in the area wouldn’t dare go near the alleyway, anybody around the area knows to keep away.
Gates on houses are either partly attached to the wall or not there at all, most doors are vandalised with racist remarks. “White fuckers” and “fucking transvestites out” seem to be the jest of their ‘political’ messages. Every roof has random slates missing; there is even one with a visible whole.
There’s not one person in sight, no house lights on, no footsteps to be heard, there’s not even any sign of wild life. No birds or flies hovering around lights. Nothing.
If one was to stop, turn their heads and listen, a mellow echo is just about possible to hear. As you listen carefully, it sounds like light footsteps. Within seconds the footsteps become louder, heavier and closer. A figure approaches; it approaches at a fairly fast speed. It’s obviously a man the walk gives him away. His arms are hunched out, repetitively moving back and forth, with a face looking straight ahead. He is wearing a smooth leather jacket, which is buttoned up, and black straight trousers, with polished black shoes. With hair brushed back so neat, there isn’t one strand out of place. The expression on his face seems intense and cold.
Suddenly the man abruptly starts walking towards the alleyway, as he reaches the beginning of it, he stops. Then looks around cautiously but gently. His head scans from left to right and back again. His left hand then drops into his left pocket, he leisurely reaches in, then takes one final look around, and sneakily unveils a large handgun. He then couches and stealthy makes his way forward, occasionally pausing to lift his head. Suddenly he becomes rigid, his back snaps straight. He becomes overtly alert, looking slightly anxious…
…’That’s good I like that, what’s ya name darling.’
The customer asked with a slight tingle of satisfaction, his eyes opened wide, raising his eyebrows at the same time. The girl didn’t reply she looked as if she was in her own world. She lay there on the floor staring up at the ceiling. ‘Speak to me god dammit’. The customer frowned and now was beginning to show signs of impatience by violently rubbing his hands through his scruffy and greasy short hair. The customer wanted attention-after all that’s what he’s paid for. The customer suddenly moved his head towards her body, the girl looked at him in desolation.
It was then she realised, the day had arrived, the day she had been dreading for the past few months. Dealing with the first demanding customer, -alone.
As he looks down the alleyway, he becomes more nervous. He takes small steps back, and looks around, for a hiding place. He then glances at some grubby rubbish bins; he runs towards them and lies down. He feels injudicious and pathetic as he clutches his gun tightly in his left hand; he then closes his eyes in desperation.
Suddenly he hears a faint noise, as he brings his gun to his shoulders, he jumps to his knees, and takes nervous deep breaths, as the clatter gets louder, it sounds like rustling in the near by bushes. His heart begins to beat so fast he feels like its being throttled with fear. His eyes carefully focus the line of frayed bushes, his fear clear to see with every drop of sweat dripping down his cheek. With intense concentration etched on his face, he waits until a shadow slowly emerges, who is it? His imagination takes control, he waits, and then it appears, a rat. He goes to shoot; luckily his reactions stop him from pulling the trigger. He takes deep and heavy sighs of relief, and slowly lies back down, he stays frozen wishing his heartbeat would return to normal speed.
She panics and bounces to her feet, then runs for her life and pride. But the man is inches behind, he wants to get his moneys worth, and he is in no rush to go. As the young girl runs for the door, she knows she has to be quick. As she screams in despair for her life, she pushes her legs forward. Her face is scrunched up; her long golden shiny hair is waving in the air. As the dirty and deadly man spots her hair, he leaps forward and stretches his arms so far he slips forward.
As he falls down she screams with her hair being pulled down at the same time. The black solid floor echoes as it takes the impact of the violent crash to the floor. He chants and laughs as she falls too. ‘Gotcha bitch, thought you could get away from me didn’t ya?’ She was still screaming with tears streaming down her cheeks. “Get off, get off me you fat pig”.
He immediately wraps his arms around her chest, to lock them in. He also manoeuvres his legs to make a sort of shell to stop them kicking. He squeezes her tight as she tries to kick free. As she kicks the man becomes angrier, his frustration makes him squeeze harder, until it’s almost impossible for her to move.
Then suddenly she stops moving. She seems to be so still, not whispering a word.
As the man emerges from the alleyway he starts taking short paces left of the building. At the moment he is situated behind it in the middle, he knows this is the wrong position to be in. His walking suddenly changes to a more, stalking manner; his eyes look like an owl stalking its prey. His body moving like a cheetah, stalking its dinner, with its legs slowly crouched in a foreboding manner at a steady pace. The man held his gun up in the air; he was on his guard at all times.
As the man releases his arms slightly around her chest, she still doesn’t move. Then he lets go completely to test her, in case she is trying to trick him. As he releases her from his grip, there is still no movement. He then impatiently turns her over, and from the look on her face he can tell she is dead.
Although the man is in shock, he can’t help to touch the soft, pale and clear skin of the powerless girl. He tenderly rubbed his fingers down her flourishing red cheeks. He feels almost satisfaction getting to feel her, with nobody to stop him he now he can do anything he wants, now that she is dead.
His mood slowly changed, from astonishment to contentment. He started muttering words under his breath like, ‘I know you understand’ and ‘you’re attractiveness intimidates me’. As he rubs her face in a circular movement with his hands, he gradually moves himself on top of her body, and slowly skims his hands down her neck, and then he goes quickly to her chest. His hands slowly began to rub on her breasts, as the minutes go by he sustains harder and harder, until he pauses and looks further down at her body. He then pulls his trousers back down…
He was now moving across the front of the building, with bushes and trees shrewdly disguising him.
It was then he heard another noise; he stopped and wondered for a second whether it was his nerves making his mind play tricks on him. But a part of him seems so sure he heard a sort of bash or rumble. The fact that the noise he thought he heard came from in the building, made him shiver inside and outside. Because the noise was so quick and impulsive, he got frustrated that he wasn’t actually sure of anything. Until the exact same noise struck again, this time he was ready, he has listened carefully, he new this wasn’t his imagination. This is the real thing.
The vile beast laughs with a big wide grin stretching across his face, he then gets completely infatuated and starts being more violent with her, treating this dead girl as if she were a dolly and he were being the kid. He begins to run his fingers through her hair and starts to lick her body like a cat licking its food.
He then lays his head over her chest, with his hands on her legs. He slowly moved his fingers up her legs until they reached the point he’d been revoltingly staring at.
He goes in hard; he goes in with a violent and sickening drive.
He closed his eyes and lay still with satisfaction. Within seconds he opens his eyes again, and lifts his head back up and looks at her face, which seems to be covered in red marks. In fact her whole body has visible red cuts and in some places there are rashes or just simple blemishes. The man frowns as if to say, how on earth did this happen?
As his head touched hers, he smelt her soft and tender skin; his lips slowly touched her cheeks. As man moved slowly to her lips, he begun to kiss her closing his eyes at the same time.
His heart began panting fast again; he could feel it echoing across his body, drops of sweat began to fall down his forehead. His hands were shivering from nervousness and coldness.
Clearly something strange was happening in the building from what he had heard. But he was wise to stay calm, his fortitude made him stronger and more determined to get in there. He started crawling fast, and eventually he reached the front-centre of the building.
He swiftly stops and brings his right hand up in front of his eyes. ‘Fuck me, is that the time?’
He grabs his trousers and shirt, hovering around the room, slipping on his clothing any old way. As he runs towards the door, he takes one last glance, at the helpless girl, looking peacefully asleep. He blows a kiss, and smiles, with a look of victory. He then opens the door in front of him, and runs through the building, searching for the way out.
It took a long time, but somehow the man managed to break through all the barriers, to reach the place he had been trying to get to for the past few hours. The warehouse was in front of his very eyes he smirked with gratification. At this point all the tension had built up in his head; he wasn’t going to find no quiet and clever way of entering the building.
He gazed at a single window, and erratically ran forward and jumped straight through the window, the impact echoed all the way through the building. As he dived the glass shattered, he tumbled through into a dark room.
As the sly and dirty beast runs, he hears a sort of shatter; he finds it hard to make out exactly what it is. He stops and takes a look around the corridor he is on, he sees nothing, and carries on running.
The man lay on a bumpy, woolly carpet, feeling numb, feeling nervous. He let out a cry “Anita, Anita darling I’m coming, I’m coming.”
The sly beast paused again, this time he was sure he heard something, and he was sure it was a man. But how can a man be in the warehouse? When nobody is expected to be here.
He miraculously jumps to his feet, the room he is in is very dark but he manages to get up, he looks around and just about spots a door he takes fast paces towards it and reaches it accurately, as he open’s the door he looks down a steep corridor and runs up it, with his gun ready to aim.
He stood there motionless; in despair he heard faint footsteps, which sounded like a crescendo. Who the hell is in the building? Who the hell is it? He kept asking himself the same questions over again in his head. He began to feel nervous, as the footsteps got louder.
“Anita, where are you, Anita, Anita, can you hear me? He shouted with passion wanting desperate answers. He felt fearless with his gun; he opened random doors, knowing anything could be in the rooms.
‘Who the hell is Anita, the man began sweating, he begun to feel extremely uneasy, he had a bad feeling inside him. He could no longer speak the whole of his body seemed to feel frozen, he felt as if his blood was no longer freely flowing, his soul had died, his heart felt num. He looked up at a door on the left of him; he ran in and slowly closed it behind him. He had entered what looked like an office, his back lay against the door, and he slowly slipped down, and crouched.
As the man ran, he became more determined, he new that if there were loads of people in the building they would of come by now.
As he saw a red door in front of him, he opened it furiously.
As he looked down, he looked in horror; surely his eyes were deceiving him. What is in front of him can’t be really there, it can’t be. His eyes were open wide in complete and utter disbelief.
He knelt down and bought his hands forward to touch the soft skin…of his daughter.
As the dirty and sly man thought hard, he realised that if someone is in the building they could find the body that he had killed, and then find him. He couldn’t take that risk. He stood up and opened the door behind him; he walked slowly towards the room, where she lay. As he saw the red door, he noticed it open slightly open. Slowly he steps forward, not really knowing his next action; he pushes the door fully open. His mouth drops gaping in shock.
There is a long silence, the two men spot each other, within seconds, they stair into each other’s eyes.
“This is my daughter, did you do this?” A croaky and uneven voice finally speaks. There is no reply.
The malevolence man makes no reaction.
The father brings his gun forward; he looks up, and then drops it back down. He takes loud and heavy breaths, which make the whole room, weep with dejection.
He then completely broke down, and let out vociferous sighs of hurt as he holds his daughter’s head in his arms. The filthy man slyly takes a step forward, but immediately the father brings his gun straight back up, ‘bang’ with a single bullet he falls to the floor.
A single shot killed the rapist, murderer and malicious man; he was no longer a threat to anyone else.
As he fell to the wooden floor once again it echoed, as it took the impact.
The father cried so hard and loud he couldn’t think straight, he wanted to talk but couldn’t control the pain, which felt as if it were smacking him the face. As he eventually compelled himself, he managed to squeeze out words for his daughter.
“My worst nightmare was someone doing this to you, if only I found out where you were doing this earlier. …If only I had given you the love and support you deserved in the first place, you wouldn’t have mortified yourself in the way that you did. I blame myself…. not you….not him.”
Danny Pires, the father of Anita Pires, bought the gun to his head and shot himself.
This is what happens when you are desperate for money, when you lose track of what your own children are doing, when you rape and murder someone, ……you pay the price…. death.