The Basement Tapes

By Neil Barnard

Editor's Note: This is Neil's first foray into the world of fiction and concerns a quantity of video cassettes that have come into the possession of London's Metropoliton Police Force. They were found abandoned in an East London basement. Here is a transcript of tape 0012. DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION

Evidence cassette 0012

20th February 1994 and the headline says - wait a minute I'll hold it up close to the camera - 'Thousands dead in India'. This sort of thing makes me smirk and when I was at school smirking would always get me in trouble. All the teachers thought it meant that I had done something wrong, but I hadn't, not always, but I'd still get the blame. I don't know why I saved this old paper but I found it yesterday while I was rooting about the flat.

But that's not important. I was talking about this headline. It's funny because God did this and he's not going to get punished and he's just killed loads of people. I was going to say 'innocent' people but I don't know if they were, God had his reasons and the lucky chap won't have to justify them. I wonder if he's very disciplined when it comes to killing. He can kill at any time and he can choose to watch someone for weeks on end and see if they're being naughty and then snuff them out there and then, or let him or her live if they are destined for a purpose. That's it! Gods the number one serial killer. He won't get caught like Bundy or Dahmer and won't be invented like Lecter. I wonder if anyone has looked for a motive?

I've only just got up and it's almost lunchtime but I thought I'd check in with you to tell you what I was up to last night. I had my ear stuck against the wall again and yes I did feel a bit guilty. Yes I know, but I had to. So any way, I could hear through the wall that that she was being fucked senseless. I had to really squash my ear tight to the wall and my ear got so sore, and I started breathing so loud, that I couldn't hear. So I slowed my breathing by taking deep breaths and it worked. I could hear her.

She doesn't make loud orgasm noises but you can hear her squealing into his hands - the slut. She makes these deep-throated air sounds and you know her face is burning red as he thrusts into her. But he ruins it by making these Neanderthal grunting noises so I have to close my I eyes and imagine I'm in the room watching them so I can see her face. I have to see her face.

She was getting it for hours and eventually I heard her squeal quietly into his hand and I knew she was dripping with sweat and that in about ten minutes she'd go through to the bathroom to clean herself up. She always does this. Always, as if she can't bear the thought of being dirty. Catholic guilt, probably. I'll speak to you later bye.

GAP

I was waiting at the bus stop bored fucking shitless. Eventually it turned up and I saw that it was packed so I got on and had to stand. It was then that I noticed the bus was full of school and college kids. I was standing up holding onto the rails and I noticed I was next to a girl, about sixteen I'd say, and I could smell her perfume and I could see her neck perfectly where she brushed her hair away from her neck. And all I can remember for a few seconds was that I was feeling really warm and the blood was rushing to my dick. Luckily someone who stood up to get off at the next stop saved me, and seeing as nobody seemed to want to sit, I did.

I started looking out of the window but there was so much filth on it I couldn't see, so I looked at the people in front and there were two filthy schoolgirls sat on the sideways seats. I looked at the girl closest to me and she caught my gaze and giggled and then she couldn't look at me because she was embarrassed and I saw her whisper to her mate. And then her friend's faces popped around her like out of the Three Stooges and stared at me, giggled and whispered back. And that was it for them. They looked and said no more.

The girl closest had a small denim jacket over her tight white school blouse, revealing her white spotted training bra and from the angle I was at some of her smooth freckled pale skin. She was also wearing tight black flared trousers and standard teenager platform black shoes. I'd age her at about fourteen but I didn't take to all the cheap gold jewellery she had hanging off her, probably birthday presents, but what could I do about it. Her friend was dressed identically but was a plumper version. Now without their gazes I could have my fun.

I didn't care what any one else thought of me on the bus seeing as how the 'Lads' behind me were spewing racist and homophobic crap to each other. I didn't need their approval. I stared back at the girls and noticed one of them had a brace and she also had on lots of make-up, but she was at that age where she feels grown up.

Anyway, I imagined pulling my dick out and inching it slowly into her wet throat, as it grows more erect. Her thick red lipstick leaving tide marks on my cock as I slide it back and forth. She places one hand on my bollocks and then she guides my cock so it presses into her cheek like in those porn films I've seen, then she slides her other hand into her school blouse and in one swift move brings her small firm nipple out of her bra and into my gaze. And then I came... in the daydream and in my shorts.

But then I grunted and it reminded me of how much I hate my neighbour when he does it. And then she turned and faced me her proud braced mouth grinned at me as if she knew, which she couldn't have, if she knew what power she held over me. I then imagined spunk dribbling over lips onto her breast. She knew...

GAP

I forget to mention it yesterday, cause I got caught up in that schoolgirl thing. I killed that kid who sat behind me. Well he kept going on about gays being disgusting and how niggers and asylum seekers should go home. Twat! I hate racist and homophobic people, there's something evil at work in them. And then my head wouldn't stop throbbing and my palms were all sweaty and, well that's not important.

He just happened to be getting off at the same stop as me and his mates said they'd see him later at a party so I knew everything would be all right. When he got off the bus first I stayed at the stop for a bit and chewed my nails and looked at the moon for a bit. It wasn't very bright, but I digress. He was headed towards the old bridge.

I started following him from a distance and when I saw him go under the bridge I ran towards him and told him he'd dropped something. He spun around and as he did I stuck my keys into his throat, twisting them side to side and he made no noise. Well he made a gurgling noise but nothing audible. He didn't say 'mother' or 'why?' or anything, which was a bit dull, nothing for me to ponder on. "Why did he say that, what did it mean?"

His name was Daniel according to his student ID card. Born thirteenth of May, nineteen seventy-seven. But we don't care. Do we?

It's been a week and there's been no mention in the press about our dead friend Danny Boy so he must have been so well liked. It's rather disappointing that a young life can be wiped out so easily and nobody even notices or spares a thought for him except his killer. I had a dream about him the other day and in it he was naked with another man. That made me chuckle when I awoke and all day I had a grin from the memory. Imagine if he knew, he'd be spitting his disgust at me and I'd just chuckle and tell him everyone knew he swung and he'd probably cry in the end knowing that his secret was out. Out, ha ha.

GAP

Hello. About six months ago I went out to America to do some DJ-ing and when I was on the plane I started reading 'Hannibal' and I was quite enjoying all the bits about Lecter in Florence and I thought it was getting 'too' good. And I was fucking right; the book started getting ludicrous. I could deal with the plastic surgery plot, in the same way that Lois Lane can't see that Clark Kent is Superman. But the whole Hannibal Lector having a meal with Clarice and scooping out a bloke's brain. Utter crap. And she ends up with Lector. Why the nice happy ending? Christ if they ever turn it into a film they'd better scrap that ending.

I finished the book on the plane back here and I was so angry I wanted to stick my complimentary knife and fork in the pig next to me. All he did was snore and toss and turn. But I didn't...

GAP

When I was in America it reminded me of someone I haven't told you about yet. I don't think I had you then so I don't think I'm repeating myself.

I'd been using the Internet for a few months and I come into contact with many undesirables but nobody who took my interest until I went to this really fucked up site called something like 'Children of Nosferatu' or something along those lines. I started communicating with this girl who I mistook for a bloke when I first met her and she thought I was a girl. Eventually it was obvious there was an attraction and so we decided to meet.

She said she was getting some time off from her secretary job. Part time Vampire then. Looks like she was abused by her step dad and she rebels after work. "Hello I'm Candy I'll be your Vampire tonight from five thirty p.m. till two in the morning, have a nice day."

GAP

Did I forget to mention the American link, she's from some Hicksville town, I can't remember where but that's not important. She was coming over to quaint England to see the Queen. She didn't speak all airheaded, that's just how I thought she'd be, past tense 'didn't' but don't rush to the punch line yet! Well she came over and she was stunning, in fact I didn't recognise her when I met her at the airport as we hadn't exchanged photos or even described ourselves, just our tastes and desires.

She was really into eighties music: The Cure, Depeche Mode, Sisters of Mercy e.t.c But don't judge me by this I DJ House music as well. The Goth music comes from my night clubbing youth. She was also into books and 'Chorlton and the Wheelies'. But she's American you cry. How does she know about this? Well I felt the same but her stepsister (abusive stepfather? Didn't find out) was English and had recorded them onto some Betamax tapes as a kid and she'd fallen in love with Fenella the Witch.

Cheese! Cheese! Cheese! But I couldn't help myself that did it for me. So at the airport she turned up looking like 'Wednesday' from the Adams Family, but I mean the Christina Ricci version not the original. And I could not believe it. I just looked like I do now on camera, so I wasn't the best looking bloke in the building and I wasn't wearing black, but she recognised me straight away and told me she knew I'd look like she hoped. No I'm not taking the piss, and she wasn't being ironic - it's not in the American's blood, or dictionary come to think of it. Unless it's under 'Eye-Roney'. Mickey Rooney? Forget it...

Sorry where were we. Jessica, that's her name I forgot it earlier and so just went on with the story. She came and stayed with me for the whole two weeks and I found out that she had a fucked up ex-boyfriend back home and that I should know this couldn't be too serious. Blah, blah, blah, but we had fun while she was here and yes we had sex but that's none of your business, and we did vamp stuff.

Just to point out I'm not really into this vampire stuff. I've read enough books and seen enough films to be able to bullshit my way around, but Jessica didn't really care about this and I think she was a tourist like me but she'd try anything for a laugh. And all was well. She went back home and then six months later I got a strange email.

I printed it out so as you can see. Well I'll read it out,

'Dear Mog (as in Meg and Mog from the kids books). We have never spoken before but I feel it is my duty to contact all of you that have been Jessica's good friends for the last few years, to tell you of our tragic loss. As many of you know Jessica had not been feeling well for some time and a few days ago my sister was discovered to have a blood clot on the brain. The details are not important now but I must inform you that she passed away suddenly in hospital yesterday with her immediate family by her bedside. If you would like to attend...'

And it goes on. It took me awhile to sort this all out in my head at the time and for a few weeks I spoke to other people on the net to learn a few things. Jessica had been having headaches when she was staying at mine but she covered them up so well and disappeared into the bathroom and would come out refreshed. I presumed she was taking painkillers or something.

And it was rumoured by those that knew Jess, that her boyfriend was responsible for her death. He used to beat the living shit out of her and she'd tried to hide this from her family. Her stepsister knew, she's the one who emailed everyone, but Jess fobbed her off and split with him after a few years and all was forgotten. The coroner's report came out and there was some damage to the skull noted and that was that.

I was ready for revenge but I was too late, her ex beat me to it, if you know what I mean. And when they found his body it had been there for some time, surrounded by photos of her and a hole where he would have been. They never found the cut-outs of him. Strange.

I wonder if they've discovered Danny Boy yet?

END OF TAPE

To contact Neil email him at linus_is_evil@hotmail.com.