watch her eyes water and her face turn a light

  pink colour.

  I go back up the basement steps and into the

  kitchen; Andrew is in a press-up position

  pushing himself up off the ground. I run over

  to him and elbow the back of his head forcing

  him back down onto the ground.

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  He grunts and clutches his head.

  “Get up.” I say pulling him up by his shirt.

  He stumbles to his feet and I drag him along

  to the basement door. As I reach the top of

  the stairs Andrew grabs me, I pull his hand

  away and toss him down the steps. I watch

  him rolling and grunting down the stairs. As

  he hits the concrete floor I hear Tanya’s

  muffled scream. I follow him down and drag

  him over to the other chair to tie him up like

  Tanya.

  His head hangs down, his face dripping

  blood.

  “We haven’t got long down here. Simon will

  call the police when he wakes up I’m sure.” I

  say.

  Tanya stays quiet and Andrew continues to

  look at the floor.

  “Oi you, look at me.” I say to Andrew.

  His head slowly looks up, his face is a mess.

  “I’m Ryan by the way, but you might know

  me as Liam.”

  Andrew shakes his head and looks down

  again. I put my fingers under his chin and

  make him look up at me.

  “You’re weak and pathetic; you know that?”

  Once again Andrew doesn’t answer me. I

  walk over to the stand and look at all the

  equipment resting on it. There are saws,

  hammers and pliers. As I pick up the pliers, it

  leaves a dusty silhouette on the shelf.

  “They’ll do nicely.” I say.

  I turn around and Tanya begins to scream;

  Andrew looks up.

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  “Oh so you’ll look at me now?”

  I walk over to him and through his shirt; I

  clutch his nipple with the pliers. I squeeze and

  he screams. The stronger I clench the more he

  squeals. I have so much power and it is time

  to get the confession I need.

  “Are you going to do everything I say?”

  Andrew nods quickly backwards and

  forwards.

  “I can’t hear you.” I say as I squeeze my

  fingers closer together.

  “Yes I will and I’ll tell you everything, just

  don’t hurt Tan or the kids.” Andrew says

  breathing deeply.

  “They’re my kids. Why would I hurt my kids

  you lying bastard?”

  I release the pliers, his sigh of relief makes

  me boil up inside. I go back over to the stand

  pick up a claw hammer and a pack of nails.

  Andrew’s eyes grow wide. He tries to move

  away, his back arches and his head moves

  back.

  “No, please no!” he cries, with tears and snot

  dribbling down his face.

  I pull a nail out from the bag. I place the nail,

  sharp end down, above his knee and raise the

  hammer above it.

  Tanya’s muffled cries increase, her eyes pour

  with tears. Her face is much darker now; the

  redness has spread down her neck. She

  shuffles in her chair, her thigh muscles

  tensing.

  I pull the hammer up to my head and line the

  nail up to his leg. He begins to beg.

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  “I’ll tell you everything! You’ll get my

  confession! You’ll get our confession just

  don’t hurt us.”

  And with that, I smack the hammer down

  and hit the nail into the chair’s arm. Andrew

  sighs with relief and Tanya stops struggling. I

  look at his face and then at the urine dripping

  down onto the floor.

  “Oh my God, thank you.” He says.

  I want to smack him around the head with

  the hammer but instead I hit his knee as hard

  as I can. As the hammer impacts the knee,

  there’s a loud and clear crack. His screams are

  unbearably loud. I repeat the action on the

  other knee, which creates the same sound.

  “Don’t you dare thank me and don’t you dare

  ask me to not hurt my kids, I would never

  hurt them, even though you made me believe

  I could, you bastard!”

  I use the claw end to then hit his thighs.

  Blood splatters onto my clothes, it seeps into

  his cotton trousers, dribbles down his legs,

  into his shoes and onto the floor.

  I toss the hammer aside and walk over to

  Tanya and rip the duck tape from her mouth.

  She spits the chemical-smelling cloth out onto

  the floor, followed by an explosion of vomit. I

  step back and watch her dribble the mess into

  her lap.

  “You both know why I’m here and why I’m

  doing this to you don’t you?” I say.

  They are both silent looking at the ground.

  “Fucking look at me.” I shout. They both

  look up to me and I continue to speak. “So

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  let’s start from the beginning, why did you

  plan to do this to me?”

  Neither of them answers.

  I go over to Tanya who flinches when I raise

  my hand. I feel down her legs and pull out her

  mobile phone. I look at the background

  picture of Sammy and Alex at the park. Alex

  stands on the top of the red climbing frame

  and Sammy hangs upside down on the frame.

  I smile and zone out for a moment, staring at

  their faces.

  I go into her phone and then place it on the

  ground next to Tanya. I then go up to

  Andrew and raise my fist. He shuts his eyes

  and shrieks, I laugh in his face.

  “Still no answer to my question? Okay, let’s

  see what else is over here.” I say as I turn and

  walk towards the stand again.

  “We chose you because we had to!” Tanya

  shouts.

  “Shut up Tanya.” Andrew says.

  “You had to choose me, your husband? Why

  is that?” I say as I look on the stand and

  choose a screw driver.

  “Because you were the right person to do it

  to.” Tanya says.

  “The right person?” I ask, holding the screw

  driver and walking towards Andrew.

  “Yeah Andrew said he needed someone with

  a creative mind. Someone we would be able to

  manipulate.” Tanya says looking at the

  ground.

  288

  I go back to Andrew and hold his head with

  the screw driver above his eye. He begins to

  shout and plea once again.

  “Do you regret doing it now?”

  “No, I don’t.” Tanya says.

  “Good.” I say as I stick the screw driver into

  Andrew’s eye. As I pull it out, blood shoots

  out of his eye which makes it look like a

  fountain pumping blood. Letting go of his

  head, he moves oddly, his head sways, his

  screams die down and he begins to groan. I

  pick up the pliers and crush his index finger

  until it cracks. I drop the bloody pliers onto

  the floor and speak to Tanya.

  “So why did you marry me? Was it just to do

  all of this?”

  “I married you because I needed someone, I

  couldn’t cope on my own and you were the

  only one there for me.”

  “So you didn’t even love me?”

  “No not really.”

  “But you had kids with me Tan.”

  “I had to make it believable to myself and to

  you.”

  Surprisingly I do not feel hurt, I feel fine and

  ready to get the answers I need.

  “Well that’s fine because I don’t love you at

  all, in fact you’re a waste of space and the kids

  will not miss you when you’re gone.”

  “I’m not going anywhere without my kids.”

  “Oh yes you are, you’ll be going to prison.” I

  look to Andrew whose head dangles down.

  “Mr Andrew Myers, psychiatrist; it’s great to

  finally meet you after all this time.” He does

  289

  not answer me so I slap the top of his head, as

  I do, more blood drips onto the floor. “I

  know you’re there, wakey wakey! You’ve got

  some explaining to do.” I wait for him to

  speak but he doesn’t and instead, he groans.

  “So you needed someone to completely

  manipulate and brain-wash is that right?”

  He doesn’t answer and so I walk around him

  and he suddenly answers. “Yes.”

  “I ask the questions and you answer, that’s

  how this is going to work. So what’s the

  process? All this stuff you did to me was to

  make me freak-out and feel threatened, scared

  and paranoid is that right?”

  “Yes.” He replies again.

  “Okay, I’m sure you can explain better, so

  you tell me the plan behind this.”

  I pick up another chair and sit opposite them,

  waiting for Andrew to explain.

  “We needed someone with…” Andrew

  struggles to speak, taking deep breaths and

  pausing after every few words. “…a creative

  mind and somebody… who would be

  susceptible to brainwash. We needed

  someone who would… be able to be asleep

  but… with a sound from the room be able to

  create a philosophical image… in their brain

  which seems so realistic to them, we needed

  someone who could create hallucinations by

  themselves with voice recognition.”

  “Intelligent guy. Voice recognition what do

  you mean by that?” I ask.

  Andrew begins to cough; he spits out some

  blood and continues to speak: “When we

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  drugged your food or when you were drunk

  from your whiskey, we’d make it possible for

  you to dream about what we want you to

  dream. You would be in a relaxed state…

  Tanya would speak and we would play

  recordings of Sammy and Alex, by doing

  that… you would dream of Tanya, Sammy

  and Alex. It’s kind of like a perception of

  vision; the sound triggers the image in your

  mind.”

  “Right so that’s how I dreamed of Tanya and

  the kids nonstop because you were making

  me?”

  “Yes.” Andrew whispers.

  “Okay but let’s go back a bit, so when Tanya

  left me, she came to you with my kids. You

  had already left Mulberry Lane I’m guessing?”

  “I didn’t leave at all and she didn’t come to

  me straight away. She took the kids to her

  parents and told them you were mentally

  unstable and she needed to sort things out so

  that when you went there, they hid the kids

  and said they hadn’t seen any of them.”

  “What about the police, they must have

  questioned them?”

  “No, the police didn’t question Tanya’s

  parents… And even if they did… her parents

  wouldn’t have told them anything… about

  what was going on. Tanya made sure of that.”

  “How long were they there for?”

  “I don’t know, they were there a lot for at

  least four years whilst me and Tanya were

  setting up the basement extension for us to

  live in and hide in, waiting for you.”

  291

  “How did you know I’d buy the house?”

  We persuaded you in your sleep. We

  constantly spoke about the house, the layout,

  the basement; everything so that when you

  came here, it felt as if you had been here

  before, it made you feel comfortable here.”

  Everything Andrew is telling me angers me.

  They literally made all my decisions for me

  over the past four years and they've had a

  hold on me until now.

  “Right, so I got the house and then what?”

  “Well… I got Simon to help. He agreed to

  help me…”

  “How did you persuade him?”

  “Easily, we are best friends, our friendship is

  strong, we’re like brothers, he needed some

  cash incentive and the threat to Sandra’s life,

  that soon made him come around.”

  “Good friends then.”

  “Well he helped and he played you.” Andrew

  says.

  This time I don’t hurt him and I ignore the

  comment. “So Simon became my friend, he

  pretended to care. Okay, I get that you got

  him involved. What was his role?”

  “His job was to drop hints and to help me

  reveal Killing for Your Love to you and make

  you work it all out with Liam Graynnil. Simon

  dropped many hints about the house, saying

  the basement was creepy, he said about my

  Will going to somebody who he cannot

  remember, he said about the basement

  occasionally locking sometimes so that when

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  you read the book, you would see these details

  in there and think that it is all true.”

  “So all of this was just for money from selling

  the house? And the basement extension was

  for you to hide in when I was home?”

  “Yes. I fortunately have contacts in the estate

  agents for the house. I simply wrote a Will

  leaving the house to Tanya Milligan, the house

  went to her and she then let the estate agents

  take care of the sale. She sold it to you so that

  when you eventually admitted murder or were

  killed, the house would go back to Tanya as

  your wife for her and her children to live in

  and then for me to move in.”

  “All of this just for money and a house?”

  “This is my house, Tanya is my wife to be

  and the kids will grow up with me as their

  dad.”

  “Well that worked out well didn’t it? So tell

  me, the other steps of how you messed with

  my mind?”

  “Whilst you slept… we didn’t only speak to

  you, we made little changes to the house, we

  moved the furniture, we left doors open or

  closed them…”

  “What about the writing on the wall?”

  “That was to match the fake interview I

  wrote. I characterised Liam Graynnil to be a

  man who liked puzzles and mind games,

  which is what I did to you… I made the name

  from your fake patient number and using the

  rest of the letters, I came up with the surname

  Graynnil. That then gave me the idea to write

  things around the house using the articles

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  about the local killings, using blood and

  scratching it into the kitchen table using the

  letters from the basement which I wrote on

  that man’s body in the basement… I knew it

  would work, I knew you would believe in

  Liam Graynnil after working out the name,

  the phrases and the change of story.”

  “Explain the story to me.” I say.

  “The only person who knows all the details

  and thought of your books is Tanya… She

  knows your writing style, she knows what

  would make you tick and she knows how you

  think and feel when writing… She re-wrote

  Killing for Your Love and gave that copy to

  Simon to give back to you…”

  I turn to Tanya who is still crying. “You are a

  scheming cow.” I say, but she does not reply.

  “It was meant to be written as a true story

  and more like a journal of Liam’s life and your

  split personality activities at night. It helped

  that Sandra took you to one of the victims in

  the book, it meant it would hit you harder

  then.”

  “I’m sure you’re really happy about that.”

  “I’m glad it all worked out.”

  I punch him in the face, but he makes no

  sound.

  “So explain what Shola and Don’s

  involvement was in all of this.”

  “Don was a man who was fearless, he’s been

  involved in a lot more shit than this, bigger

  things too. He was willing to help for a price

  but he was worth it.”

  “Did you think he’d be killed?”

  294

  “Not at all but you killed him so whatever

  happens, you have to live with that.”

  I do have to live with it but now I see it

  completely different, he deserved to be killed

  for doing that to me. “Did I? Carry on; what

  about Shola?”

  Andrew begins to laugh. “Yeah, of course my

  old man was going to help his son.”

  “Shola is your dad?”

  “Yeah and his name isn’t Shola, that’s just

  what Simon told you and his wife. John Myers

  is his name.”

  “Was his name?” I say.

  “No, is. He’s not dead. The guy you killed

  wasn’t him. My dad wasn’t just a vet, he was a

  scientist; he’s a clever man. He gave us the

  idea of using fox cams to follow you, well, to