Read Online Human Frailty, a Detective Mike Bridger novel by Mark Bredenbeck - Free Book Online Page B

her fear.
She did not want to be scared but she could not help it. The shadow
had returned a little while later and given her some food, not much
and the same disgusting texture as the last time, but it was enough
to stave off her hunger pangs. Trapped in the dark little room
Marion desperately tried to calculate how long she had been there.
Her frightened mind was telling her it was a lifetime. It was
telling her that she knew no other existence than the dark torment
that she felt now.
    The shadow had not touched her since she had
woken on the cold floor; he had only watched her in the dark. Her
vulnerability highlighted in her nakedness.
    Marion's imagination had started to frighten
her even more than her reality. What did he want from her? Was this
some perverted type of foreplay, is this how he got off. She
thought of the rape that would happen. She knew that was what she
was there for, his deviant sexual pleasure. What else was there?
She thought about how it would feel, how she would feel, what he
would do to her and how it would hurt… She did not want him inside
her; she would rather die first than have that final degradation as
her last memory.
    Marion wondered if anyone had missed her
yet, or wondered where she was. She knew most of friends would
think she was with Mat somewhere.
    She thought back to what she remembered of
when it happened. She was on her way to the exam from Mats house;
she knew that was on Friday, but what day was it now?
    She remembered she had kissed Mat as she
left his flat, just a peck on the cheek even though he was going
away for a week with friends, skiing at Cadrona. Now, trapped in
this nightmare, she thought of him carrying on with his life
oblivious to her plight. Her mother would wonder of course, she
always worried about her. Her mother hated Mat, she hated the fact
Marion had moved out and was living in the flat.
    She looked around herself in despair; maybe
her mother was right in her distrustful view of the world. Is this
what she had in mind when she went on about all the bad things in
the world? Was this what she meant when she spoke of all the things
that human beings were capable of doing?
    Memories of childhood lessons on the dangers
of making bad choices came back to her. Her mother always delivered
these lessons with fervor normally confined to preaching Ministers
on a church pulpit. It had got worse after dad died, she
remembered. It was almost as if her mother had finally felt free
enough or confident enough to vent a lifetime of built up
frustrations and emotion.
    ‘Men were nothing but violent
Neanderthals capable only of hurt and betrayal ’ , she would say. ‘ Some were not
capable of controlling their violence in any way, letting it spill
over into the daily lives of others. Some were clever and were able
to hide the undesirable streak, confining it behind closed doors,
venting it on those closest to them ’ .
    Marion did not know whether her mother was
referring to her father when she spoke of these men, her memories
were of a gentle person who showed her nothing but love. He may
have lacked confidence and perhaps not made enough of his life, but
he always seemed happy enough.
    She had heard the late night arguments
though, when her mother always talked down to her father, she could
tell it would wind him up, but he never had the confidence to say
something. He would get sullen and mope around for a while. It was
almost as if her mother was trying to provoke a reaction and was
not getting the right one. Maybe he said what he needed to in
private, preferring to have a rational discussion instead of an
angry debate.
    She felt a burst of immense
loneliness, made worse in the darkness. She missed her father; he
would come to her rescue if he were still alive. That is what
fathers did, and fathers were men to. She heard her
mother ’ s
words in her head, she thought of the shadow somewhere outside the
darkness. This is one of those men, she thought, mum