Footsteps

Footsteps
Introduction
The man was sitting on a park bench, smoking a cigarette. The bench faced the Town Hall, which was encompassed by the murky darkness. It was somewhat of a bitter, frosty night. He noted that this matched his mood.
He used the bench to dab out his cigarette and steadily rose, pondering whether to abduct the child, or not. After a moment’s deliberation, he settled with no. The child was innocent, unless his whore of a mother taught him otherwise, he thought.
He was wearing a leather jacket with blue jeans. His aim was to be as inconspicuous as possible. He didn’t walk gingerly, yet he wasn’t conceited either. He had an ability, an instinct, to act casual and blend in. His character was hard to comprehend for some. Whereas some said he was ambiguous and enigmatic, others described him as pleasant, yet reserved.
Sadly, no one delved in to discover the real Jimmy Fox: the complex character whose personality didn’t knit together like most, but was tangled in a congealed mess. The real Jimmy Fox had craved love, a person to share life with, but his heart was left hollow and unfulfilled. This left Jimmy devastatingly cold-hearted and vengeful. The only way Jimmy could ever feel… completed was when he had revenge on everyone who had caused him pain, whether that was society in general, or specific people who had tried to use him. It would be the latter that Jimmy was dealing with tonight.
He ensured that he was 100% percent alone. He halted to check that there was no one following him. All he heard was the faint whistle of the wind. He began to walk again. The air was crisp; Jimmy enjoyed exhaling into the air, seeing his breath turn into mist. He continued walking for approximately 30 yards and turned into Gala Lane, where he was to meet his nemesis, if you like.
He remembered how the woman had used him and abused his feelings. He remembered how she wouldn’t even let him kiss her, but found her having sex with her next-door neighbour Jim Barnes (for she had liked men called ‘Jim’), who happened to be a police officer. How she’d steal his hard-earned money to buy shoes and an Argos necklace (costing £32.99).
Well that’s fine, he thought bitterly. But don’t fucking mess with Jimmy Fox or you’ll pay.
And sadly, tonight, the woman would.
As he approached her doorstep, he felt his left pocket to ensure that his loyal gun hadn’t left him. She should be awake now, he thought. If he was right, she’d be watching WAGs, Kids and World Cup Dreams on BBC Three. He lightly walked up the three front steps, and slowly reached out for the door knob. Foolishly, she had never locked her door. With a little push, Jimmy opened it.
She was sitting, innocently, on the couch watching television, which was to Jimmy’s left. Instantly, he pointed his gun at her, and said, “Get up, bitch.” She had gasped. Whimpering, she slowly rose with her hands held above her head.
“Jimmy, I...”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP, BITCH!”
Careful now Jimmy, he thought, you don’t want to wake the child. He gazed at the austere walls he had painted for her last summer. This made the already hot anger inside him boil even more. All the things I did for you, he thought. He snapped out of the fixation for the walls and stared back at woman he was inevitably going to murder tonight.
“You make me feel SICK to my stomach. A whore like you doesn’t deserve to be alive.” The woman winced at his comment. She was desperate to keep her feelings inside of her. But she couldn’t help but sob and Jimmy couldn’t help but smile maliciously at her pain.
“You could never help but make a scene about everything, no matter how small,” he recalled. He chuckled darkly. “Do you still talk to Barnes?’ He couldn’t keep the disgust out of his voice. She didn’t answer.
‘ANSWER ME!’ She quickly shook her head. Jimmy knew she was lying. Her face betrayed her more than it should have done.
Jimmy turned to see a shaking boy on the staircase.
“If you’re wise, kid, you’d go back to your bedroom now.” The child was unable to move, too scared that Jimmy was going to punish him again. “I SAID UPSTAIRS!” The boy, now crying, sprinted as fast as he could to his bedroom.
“Use me once, I let you off. But use me twice, and then I have to kill you.” His finger was now firm on the trigger. He pointed the gun to her neck. Effortlessly, he pressed the trigger once. She gasped. He enjoyed seeing her dance around in pain. He then lowered his gun to her chest and let out 1, 2, 3 cold, chilling shots. She fell to her knees. Satisfied with what had happened, he turned around, and left the house, leaving her to die.
He didn’t even allow her to have any last words.
***
Rachel
Fear.
What is fear? (Allow me to get a dictionary...)
“Fear: An emotion experienced in anticipation of some specific pain or danger. To be afraid or feel anxious.”
Why I am not scared? Am I crazy, naive, or just plain stupid? I feel like the only person in Horncastle who finds it thrilling to be living where Britain’s most wanted man is. The whole town is surrounded by police and TV cameras. I, personally, think this is sort-of exciting in a deranged way. We’ve even got the week off school. Alice begs to differ.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Rach! This man is setting out to kill and maim innocent people in this town! And you think that’s exciting?! Jimmy Fox has already murdered FIVE PEOPLE. FIVE PEOPLE! I cannot drum this enough into your pea of a head: DON’T DO ANYTHING STUPID. I mean it, I mean how...” From there, I sort of tuned out. Alice tended to repeat herself quite a bit, at times. However I reassured her, as she was ranting.
“Alice, stop overreacting! What do you think I’m going to do?!” Alice just looked at the floor after I’d said that. She did that a lot, too.

I did have some plans, however. Just little ones, you know. I’d thought I’d go out to see what the police actually did at night. I mean, how could that do any harm? I’d be near police AND the chance of Jimmy Fox actually being in Horncastle was minimal. Why would he be here if he knew there were so many police officers? Exactly. See, the problem with me is that I’m ambitious. When I get an idea in my head, I stick with it. I can’t just let go of things.

Alice was analysing me for some bizarre reason. She had a weird look on face.
“You’re going to ignore what I said, aren’t you? You’re going to risk your life for what? A bit of action, something you’ll have forgotten by tomorrow.” I wasn’t prepared to confirm or deny a thing. What I was going to do was none of her business.

“Rachel, just promise me that you won’t do anything stupid.”

“I promise.” For I wasn’t going to do anything stupid. Just... ambitious.

Alice

I worry. I worry about the littlest things.

Is it Holland or the Netherlands? (I believe the latter is correct.)
Was there enough future tense and technical language in my French exam?
Is my best friend going to be killed tonight?
I lie awake hoping to drift off to sleep. But I can’t stop tossing and turning. I can’t stop think about where she could be right now. See, part of me is telling myself not to worry, because she’s probably tucked up in bed, lucky enough to be snoozing now as I lie awake in the hell that is consciousness. However, I know Rachel. I know how she can’t say no to anything because she’ll consequently think she’s weak. (I’d love to be her drug-dealer, I’d be a millionaire.)
I groan. There’s no point in worrying. I mean, what could I possibly do?
Nothing. That’s what. And I hate that feeling. Uselessness, helplessness. I mean, I love Rachel, don’t get me wrong, but she can be so, so... foolish. Yes, foolish. And what could I do about that? Nothing.
So I do what the useless do. I think of irrelevant things in an attempt to fall asleep. Gossip. That guy from ‘Twilight’. Percy pigs. Anything. Anything at all...

I’m centred in complete blackness, complete darkness. The only sound I hear is of me breathing. I look from side to side, hoping for some sort of object to sooth my worry, to show that I’m not alone.
Suddenly, I feel a light has been turned on behind me. I turn around to see a bit of foggy mist randomly floating through the air. I screw my eyes to see Rachel standing there.
But she didn’t appear to be living. There was just a blank look on her face. Not love, not hate. Nothing-ness. She looked like a mannequin. She, too, was surrounding by nothing, apart from the mist.
The smoky mist was trying to grab her like children with Santa Claus. It was wrapping round her like ivy. I whispered her name. And then I called “Rachel?” I then started to get progressively louder. However, I gasped as I saw who stepped to the right from behind her to reveal himself.
Jimmy Fox. He looked into my eyes, tilted his head, and smiled at me in the coldest, evilest way man ever could. He slowly raised a massive knife that could easily kill my best friend in a matter of seconds.
I screamed “RACHEL!!!”, but she couldn’t hear me. No matter how loud I shouted. My heart was beating at a million of beats per second, and my body grew heavy as I watched him, helplessly, lower his knife to her back.
My God, I had never screamed so loud. My eyes opened as quickly as the speed of sound. No, light. I have to find her. I have to contact her somehow.
I have to find her.
Rachel
Well, to say the least, it was toffee-ing freezing outside. Even wearing both a cardigan and a coat didn’t prevent the chill.
I didn’t really know what to expect. Would I even see any police? Of course I would, they’d be everywhere.
I was walking at quite a quick pace. I didn’t want anyone to see me, I mean; they wouldn’t understand why I was doing this. I knew that if I didn’t do this, I would regret it for the rest of my life. I only wanted to have a quick peek at the town centre, just to see.
As I was walking down Gala Lane, I remembered that that was where that poor woman died. What was her name? Sharon Henry, I believe. I quickened my pace as I realized that Jimmy Fox had walked these streets. The air grew suddenly colder. I can do this. I’ve come this far.
I suddenly found myself yawning. Oh goodness, I’d grown tired. To be honest, I didn’t even want to do it anymore. I’d rather be tucked up in bed. Shall I turn back? Would I be missing much?
No, I reasoned. And you can always do this tomorrow. Turn back, Rachel.
Before it’s too late.

Jimmy
I didn’t feel wanted, as such, by the police. I knew I was getting a lot of attention, and frankly, I was revelling in it. Now everyone could know how I feel. How I was rejected. Forgotten. Scorned at.
And I know how much everyone hates me. How I’m being labelled as a murderer. A nutcase. A loner. But I smile within when I think of those people, the ones who thought I was worthless. The ones who are going to be punished. Yet I have a long way to go. And every day, I knew that the bastard Police are getting closer and closer to finding me.
I’d think about that later, when I would need to. However, I had more immediate needs to combat. Food.
I had been surviving on nothing but apples from the trees in the fields. And God, I hated apples. Almost as much as people. But how was I supposed to get food- I’m Britain’s most wanted man. I needed a slave. I needed to go hunting for bait. Something that can prolong my, admittedly, inevitable capture.
And then I heard footsteps pattering on the concrete. As if by magic, she walked right in front of me. Of course, she couldn’t see me, I was in some bushes. But she was perfect, exactly what I had needed.
Young, vulnerable, defenceless. Obviously foolish. She was just what I wanted. And to top it all off, it was just me and her. All alone. Fan-fucking-tastic.
She turned into what was presumably her house. Quickly, Jimmy. Make your move. Now.
Rachel
“I’d stop there now if I were you.” A chilling, aggressive voice rang out to the left of me. I froze like a doe. Stupidly, I turned around. There was a gun. Pointed at me.
“If you do as I say, you’ll be kept alive. Scream,” he paused there, as if adding emphasis to his subsequent words, “you’ll die”. I gulped. If only I’d listened to Alice. If only. If only. If only.