Stories from the Vault: Waiting

This is the first short story I think I ever wrote. It got put onto FictionPress way back in 2013. 15/07/13. Enjoy. Or try to.

Where was he? It had been hours. It was now 8:32pm and Phil was getting impatient. They were supposed to have been at the movies now. He wasn’t even sure he was going to turn up. He’d waited in the pouring, cold rain too long. He clicked his heel and began to walk down the dimly lit path. There, to the left was an old man, he wore a ragged cap and a small cloak. The poor man sat in front of a dingy alley. He was homeless, no doubt about it. Feeling sorry for the poor beggar Phil pulled out his wallet and gave him a five-pound note.

“God bless your soul.” The homeless man gave a broad grin; Phil anxiously smiled back at him. The man had barely any teeth at all; he’d probably been on the streets for a long time. Then something caught his eye. A body or what remained of it. The fingers were missing on both hands, only the thumbs remained. The man was stripped of clothes and had been hastily put into what looked like an army suit. Khaki green vest, green trousers and heavy, black boots.

Phil began to back away from the alley until a man grabbed him from behind. He hadn’t noticed the man slip up behind him, using the rain and shadows to his advantage. Phil felt something against his back. A cold, metallic object.

A gun.

“You will now listen to me, or perish. It is your choice. If you want to live, step into the alley.” The man from behind said, barely audible under the noise of the heavy drops of rain hitting the pavement. Phil was trembling; he began slowly walking into the alley, he inched around the body. He didn’t recognize the face of the corpse. All he knew was that it was a man, he had lost his fingers and he was going to end up the same way if he didn’t listen.

The homeless man and his college sat him down into a chair. The man with the gun knelt down in front of him. His raspy breath almost intoxicating Phil’s breathing space.

“You will call me Evan. It isn’t my real name and I’m telling you this because for some reason I trust you.” Evan began to pace while the homeless man began preparing something on a bench. It was too dark to see what it was, but Phil was expecting the worst.

“We ran into a little, let’s say, trouble, earlier today.” Evan pointed at the body and winked at Phil.

“Please, don’t hurt me. I can give you money –”Phil was cut off by a gag being put round his mouth. The muffled groans and cries of help couldn’t, and wouldn’t be heard.

“You annoy me.” Evan clicked his fingers and the homeless man paced towards him, holding what looked like a sack. He crouched in front of the body and began stuffing it into the sack.

“It’s a simple task really, you take the bag and dispose of it. I’m going to remove the gag now and you will not say a word.” Once again, Evan clicked his finger, the other man crawled over to Phil and undid the gag and binds.

“I do not care how you dispose of the body as long as it is not obvious. You have five seconds to decide how to get rid of him.” Evan looked at his watch, watching the seconds tick agonizingly by.

The closest place to Phil right now was the old pier. He could dump the bag in the sea and be home in a minute. That seemed like the most sensible idea. Sensible? None of this was sensible, it was madness.

“We’ll take it to the pier and dump it into the water.” Phil piped up, adrenalin pumping through him.

Evan took the rear while the other man led him to the pier. They walked in silence, with the occasional unintelligible mutter and the patter of the rain hitting the pavement. A car would pass sometimes or someone would walk by in a hurry to get out of the rain. Thunder and lightning began lighting up the sky every few minutes. Finally they had arrived at the pier.

“Well, drop it in.” Evan ordered. Phil did what he was told; he held the bag by one hand and threw it as far as he could into the ocean below. It was tough work due to there being a body in there. He watched the bag drifting away from the pier with the tide. There was a loud crack in the air, muffled by the lightning, thunder and rain. Phil fell to his knees, clutching his chest. He was losing blood fast, but he knew how it was going to end.

“Your services are no longer required.” Evan smiled, kicking Phil into the dark, watery abyss. The two men strolled away to go back to their spot, waiting for their next victim.

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