Darkness surrounded the light blue Porsche as it came to an abrupt and unexpected halt in the middle of nowhere.

  'Shit.' Charlie slapped the steering wheel in frustration and tried to start up again.

  His girlfriend, Camilla, placed her head in her hands. 'Oh typical. Couldn't you go get some help? There was a petrol station not that far back. I'll wait here if you like.'

  Charlie nodded, and opened the door. As he emerged, he looked around, trying to adjust his eyes to the pitch black of the night. Trees were on each side of the road, towering over him. Attempting to regain some vision, he started to walk briskly back the way they had come.

  Rustle. The rustle of leaves near him sounded, and he quickened his pace. He told himself not to be scared, that it was probably nothing but the wind, but at the same time, cursed his mild case of paranoia.

  After what seemed like an eternity of walking, lights finally appeared from the gas station Camilla had referred to. Charlie pushed through the double doors and trudged over to the counter.

  A relatively tall, young man with dark hair turned to face him. 'Hey mate, what can I do for you?'

  'I've got a problem. Car's broken down up the road.'

  The young man's polite smile faded. 'Uh-oh. I'm not going up there. Few will dare to at this time of night, considering the circumstances.'

  'Circumstances..?'

  'There is..' he lowered his voice, as if someone nearby might be listening in when they shouldn't be. 'There is some.. some guy. A maniac. Police can't find him, and people who do..' He paused, shuddering. 'To be honest, I'm surprised you managed to make it here alive.'

  Charlie gulped, remembering the rustles he had heard. 'Fuck, please tell me this is a wind up?'

  The man shook his head, and Charlie muttered 'Camilla' under his breath, while taking his phone out of his pocket.

  'No signal,' the man whispered. He was right. 'Who's Camilla?'

  'My.. my girlfriend.'

  'Shit. She's in your car?'

  Charlie nodded. 'Look, please.. can't you do something? Give me a lift or something?'

  The man shuddered again. 'You don't want to know what happened to the last guy who tried that.'

  'But I need to get Camilla. Need to. If you're not coming, I'm going myself. I don't care what happens, as long as she's safe.' This was, in a way, a lie - Charlie was terrified, but he was even more scared of what might be happening to Camilla.

  Or what had already happened.

  'I..' The man looked at Charlie helplessly. He noticed the desperation in Charlie's eyes, and sighed. 'Come on. We've gotta be real careful though.' He picked up his car keys and walked round the counter to meet Charlie. 'I'm Alex, by the way,' he added, extending his hand, which Charlie shook. 'Just hope that I'm not the last person you ever meet.'

  Alex opened the door of the shop slowly, checking to make sure the coast was clear. Grabbing Charlie's arm, he started to run to his car, which was only a short way from the door. Both boys jumped in quickly, and Alex started the engine.

  Please let Camilla be OK, Charlie prayed. Please, please..

  'What's your name, anyway?' Alex interrupted his thoughts as they pulled out onto the main road.

  'Charlie.'

  There was a moment's silence. 'You're not who I think you are, are you?'

  'Probably, but you'd better not have a problem with that. It's the last thing on my mind right now.'

  Alex nodded. 'I don't have a problem with Busted, you all seem pretty cool guys. Of course, this now puts me under no pressure whatsoever to save your life here..'

  Lost in chatter, Charlie's mind came back to what was going on as his car came into view. 'There,' he croaked, dreading what he was about to find.

  Alex pulled up the car beside his, as Charlie stared in horror. One of his windows was broken, the windscreen cracked in one place and a wing mirror smashed. He opened the door of Alex's car, to investigate the damage further.

  'Charlie, no.' Alex grabbed his arm in fear, but Charlie shook it off. 'You can't do this, idiot. He'll come back. He will..' His voice trailed off to a whimper.

  Charlie ignored him, and pulled, from his jacket pocket, the Swiss army knife which his best friend, Matt, had given to him for his 18th birthday. Fear gripped him, but he chose to ignore it as his feet took him step by step towards the damaged vehicle. His hands shook as he opened the car door.

  Tears welled up in his eyes as he saw what was lying on his front seat. A small, fragile body curled up, with cold, blank eyes staring at nothing. Even the long blonde hair seemed limp and dead, the glowing shine lost - forever?

  'Cameylou.. Cameylou, please.. you can't.. I should never.. never have left you. I love you.. don't leave.. don't leave me here.. I love you..' He began to sob, but it caught in his throat when there was a screech of laughter behind him, followed by another screech, this time of wheels on the road as Alex was overcome with fear and drove away, leaving Charlie to face a boy of around his age, perhaps slightly older than himself. He momentarily held sympathy for the boy, before he remembered what he had done, and that he himself was in serious danger.

  The boy laughed again. 'I'd like to see how far that knife will get you.'

  Charlie looked down at the knife in his hand, and gripped it harder. 'YOU KILLED CAMILLA!!' he screamed.

  'Shame to see such a pretty one go. She was a good shag as well.'

  Charlie stared at him. 'You RAPED her?!'

  The boy didn't respond, only grinned, baring his broken, rotten teeth.

  'You're sick,' Charlie spat. 'You're FUCKING SICK!!!' He moved towards the boy, his fear completely replaced by anger. 'YOU FUCKING TWISTED CUNT, YOU ARE SERIOUSLY GOING TO FUCKING PAY FOR THIS!'

  The boy dodged the knife, as Charlie swung his arms. 'I am?' he said, calmly. His apparent relaxation in such a situation made Charlie feel slightly nervous, and of course the boy knew this - it was his favourite and most successful approach when he was out on the kill. But Charlie wasn't giving in, and it enraged him even more.

  He grabbed the boy's relatively long hair, and the next thing the boy saw was a large fist straight in his face. Still having use of his legs, he took advantage of this and kicked Charlie in the stomach, temporarily winding him. Charlie, however, didn't let go of his hair, as the boy half expected, but instead knee'd him between the legs, and the boy's legs gave way as he let out a wail of pain.

  'You love doing this to other people, don't you?' Charlie said, as he kicked the figure on the floor. 'But you have no reason to, do you? Why should it give you satisfaction to torture others? You're fucking twisted. You need fucking help. So you know what? I'm going to help you. I'm going to put you out of your damn fucking misery, and stop you causing misery for others.' He grabbed the boy's collar and pulled him up. 'Does that hurt?' He said, as he slashed the boy's right arm. The boy whimpered, fear and pain in every bone, every muscle of his body. He realised that, for the first time, he was being beaten. And somehow, he felt grateful for it, and he did not fight back. And then he couldn't find back. He was too weak.

  So much blood. It seeped through his clothes, leaked onto the road, dark red, rich blood, pouring out of the boy's body along with his life. His sad, short life, full of murder, full of torturing other people, just like Charlie was doing to him now.

  His life was fading, as if it were drowning in his blood. Fading.. fading.. he couldn't see, and this scared him, but he almost felt peaceful now. It was a feeling he had never felt, and now he was never going to feel anything again. Except peace.

  Finally, Charlie was satisfied. He looked at his hands, red and warm from the blood. It shocked him slightly. I killed a man, he realised. I killed someone who I didn't even know. He remembered Camilla. He killed the one person I love with all my heart. So I killed him. But I need Camilla. I need her, and he killed her. He deserves what he got. But I killed him.

  A soft voice interrupted him. 'Charlie?' It was quiet, almost indecipherable, but Charlie's eyes widened. He whirled round to face his car, and there, on the front seat, was the same figure. Only now, her eyes were not staring at nothing. They were staring at Charlie. Charlie stared back, not believing what he was seeing.

  'I.. Camilla?'

  She smiled slightly. 'Why are you.. looking at me like.. that?'

  'I thought.. I thought you were.. were..'

  'Dead?' She sat up, then moaned when pains shot through her head. 'Bloody hell. What happened?' Her eyes looked Charlie up and down, and she noticed his hands, blood dripping from them, knife still held in his grip. 'Charlie..?'

  Charlie stood up slowly, watching the girl uncertainly. 'You.. how? Shit.' He looked down at the motionless body. 'Shit,' he repeated.

  A groan came from inside his car. 'Ugh. I don't feel well. I feel like I've been fucked and I didn't enjoy it.'

  'Um.. Camilla..'

  'And then he tried to kill me. He had a lighter. He tried to set me on fire.' She reached down and picked up the lighter from the floor of the car. 'And I couldn't do anything, because he pinned me down to the seat. But that doesn't mean I didn't try. I can't remember.. what happened? Charlie..'

  Charlie could barely feel his legs, but somehow he was able to get back to the car and sit in the driver's seat. He turned his head to look at Camilla, her expression still confused, as she waited for Charlie to respond.

  'I can't believe this.' He looked back at the body, and Camilla slowly sat up again, regaining her senses, and followed his gaze.

  'What.. YOU!' she suddenly screamed. 'You KILLED him?!?'

  Charlie stared at her in disbelief. 'I found you. I thought you were DEAD. And then HE came back. What was I supposed to do?! I love you more than anything, and I found you lying there, motionless, and your eyes.. your EYES..' He sniffed, choking back sobs.

  'Your HANDS. Fuck, Charlie.' She moved closer to him and touched his arm. 'You killed.. some random guy you don't even know.'

  'He was a fucking twisted psycho. Complete maniac. He fucking raped you, and tried to murder you. YOU! Of all people! You.. you.. I love.. you.'

  Camilla smiled. 'I love you too, but we've got to get out of here. There's a knife in your hand. Loads of blood. Fuck, you've got blood on your shirt. And he's in the middle of the road.'

  'Leave him there,' Charlie whispered.

  'Are you insane?! You can't just LEAVE him there!'

  'The police will find him. They've been looking for him for ages.'

  'But supposing they trace it back to you? You'll.. oh God.'

  'Well what are we supposed to do? Drag him to a nearby river and chuck him in? No way.'

  'Your shirt. Your hands. The knife. We need to go home.' She paused, remembering that the whole reason they were there was because the car broke down. 'SHIT! What do we do?'

  'I'm going back to the petrol station. You're coming with me this time, I'm not leaving you there again.'

  Camilla nodded. 'Let's go.' Charlie wiped his hands and knife on the grass at the side of the road, to remove the worst of the blood, before they set off back down the road towards the petrol station.

  For the second time that night, Charlie walked through the double doors, which felt heavy now. He rang the bell at the counter, and Alex appeared almost straight away.

  'FUCK ME!' He stared at them, flicking his eyes from one to the other. 'You're the last people I ever expected to see. Charlie, you.. you beat him. You're a fucking legend.' Suddenly, he noticed Charlie's shirt. 'Ah. I see the problem. Come on through, I've got a shower upstairs you can use, and a washing machine and such. I'll see to your car as well.'

-----

Clean. Oh, how wonderful it felt to be clean. Clean of any sin, any crime that he had committed. But that would never happen. Once you had taken a life, you could never be clean. No matter how justified your reasons were for doing so.

  But physically, Charlie was clean. No blood on his hands. No blood on his shirt. No blood on his knife.

  He pulled on his clean clothes as Camilla stood in the doorway, watching him.

  'Thanks so much, Alex.' Charlie hugged him when they were back downstairs in the shop again.

  'Oh, it's no problem. It's more of a pay back for what you've done. For so long, people have been terrified of that road. But that fear will go when they hear that he has gone. Anyway, I guess I'll see you some time, probably on TV or in a magazine or something.' He laughed. 'Call in one day, if you remember me.'

  Charlie shrugged. 'For some reason, I don't think I'll forget.' He looked at Camilla, who took his now clean hand in her's, her fingers intertwining with his. 'See you around.'

  As they left the station, the sky was beginning to get lighter. Charlie found his car, dents and cracks and all, at the side of the road by the entrance. He sighed, glad the night was over, and amazed that they had both got through it, and both of them got in. He turned the key, and the engine burst into life.

  Before they set off, he turned to Camilla. 'That was the worst fucking night of my life. I thought I'd lost you, I really did.'

  'Charlie, I'd never leave you. Never.'

  He smiled. 'Love you.'

  'Love you too.' Camilla leaned over to kiss Charlie's lips. 'You fucking legend.'