Sex and Murder Magazine

By Philip Roberts

Ben White awoke to the sound of screaming in the night. The frantic howls of pain and rage brought him red-eyed and sluggishly to his feet.

His pace was slow and meticulous. Now aware of his surroundings, he found a certain amusement in the screams, yet cringed at his own elation. Just three months ago when the first cries came, he had spent his night huddled in the corner of his bed, his pillows pressed over his ears, while he cried for the suffering he caused.

Now, he stood before the closed closet door and slammed his fist into the wood.

“I’ll gag you if I have to,” he sneered.

His voice cut off the uproar.

“Try it,” the voice whispered.

But the challenge carried little conviction, and there was no more commotion that night.

*****

In recent weeks, when his co-workers gathered each day for lunch, Ben’s soft voice no longer joined their conversations.. All ten of them sat around a picnic table outside the building, basking in the spring weather while discussing various topics of little consequence.

Ben lowered his eyes away from them so they wouldn’t see his slight frown.

“Think I’ll go back in,” he said, bringing surprised stares.

His friend, David, followed him.

David was a man so large, that his walk took on a slight waddle, while his chin nearly melded with his neck. It was something that Ben had never really considered or cared about before.

“You seriously look really awful,” David said.

Ben picked his pace up just a little to force the man to struggle in order to keep up.

“Haven’t had any decent sleep in a long time.” he said.

“If you needed any help you would ask, right?” David pressed, “I’d hate to see anything bad happen to you because you were too kind to impose on anyone…I know you have a problem with that.”

In days past, David would’ve been right. Ben had spent his entire life reluctant to bring any potential hardship onto another person. He often shouldered workloads far above his means of accomplishing simply so that others could live their life with a little less stress.

Ben turned towards David with a slight smile.

“You know something,” he said, “the recent string of shipments has been kind of weighing me down, especially with how little sleep I’ve been getting. Why don’t you lend me a hand with it?”

The two men stood there, surrounded by empty cubicles. Dave’s face scrunched up a little at Ben’s words. He was far more overworked than Ben, at the moment, and both men knew it—just as they both knew that Ben could easily handle the workload he currently had.

Still, Ben had never asked something of a person unless he genuinely needed what he said. That much history made David reluctant to refuse.

He nodded his head, “Sure…I guess I could help.”

The goodness of his friend nearly made Ben break down and beg David for forgiveness right there. Whatever had possessed him to ask such an unnecessary thing withered.

“No,” he said, “don’t bother, I can handle it myself. I’ve just…I don’t know, but I’ll handle it. Don’t worry about it. I think I just need to get back to work.”

He left before David could ask him anything else. He stayed in his cubicle the rest of the day. He couldn’t bring himself to face his coworkers.

*****

“We have to talk,” he said to the closet door.

Silence.

He could feel his jaw tense up and his hand lightly shake as he unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Chains rattled as the man inside brought up his hands in an effort to protect his eyes from the sudden glare of the living room light.

The clean-shaven, neatly dressed man he had wrestled to the ground and knocked unconscious only a few months before was now nowhere to be seen. Instead, a full beard covered the man’s dirty face, its whiskers encrusted with dried blood. His hair was nearly down to his shoulders now, and he was hunched from so many days without being able to stand.

Thick chains held the man’s thin arms and legs, with just enough slack to allow him to lie down, but never to stand completely. His clothes were rumpled, darkened from blood and dirt, and they displayed little of the fine suit they once had been.

On the floor beside him sat an empty food tray. Ben replenished it each morning, when he cleaned the man’s bedpan.

The stench inside the closet was horrible, and just having the door open nearly overwhelmed Ben.

“And what do we need to talk about?” the man in the closet asked in a thin, hoarse whisper.

“I’ve been…” Ben paused to gather his thoughts, “lately at work I’ve been having issues. I’m not used to dealing with a temper, and I’ve found myself getting close to saying…uh, things, to people, that I don’t want to.”

“You’re becoming a bit of an asshole and you aren’t quite used to it, eh?”

“I guess. I’m not sure. I’ve never been like this, or felt anything like it before.”

“Good.” said the man, “What the hell did you expect? You beat a man to the ground and lock him in a closet it changes you. Now where’s my food?”

“Let’s just talk first.”

“I want my food now.”

“I said we should ta-”

“Shut up,” the man insisted, “and give me my food.”

“Fine,” Ben screamed, “rot in there you stupid bastard.”

Eyes livid, Ben slammed the door as hard as he could.

It took him nearly ten minutes perched on the sofa, eyes locked on the closet door, to get his nerves settled.

“I need my food,” he heard the man call out.

A hint of fear touched the man’s voice. His words wavered in a way that Ben hadn’t heard since placing him there. Apparently the isolation had finally started to break down the man’s resistance.

Yes, that was the only reasonable explanation. Ben disregarded any other possibilities.

*****

“Heard anything about your evil twin lately?” David asked.

He had the goddamn smile on his face that Ben had grown to loathe the past few days.

The question wasn’t really serious, David just liked to catch the attention of the newer people at the office, to make them look up and ask, “Evil twin?”

He was really just trying to bring Ben out of the shell he was forming around himself. After all, the topic had always been one Ben found a tad amusing to discuss, even if it had always been bittersweet due to the turmoil it had caused him over the years.

“Oh yes,” David said, still smiling at Ben, but enjoying the office attention, “he’s had one for years. Isn’t that right?”

“All his life he’s been being confused with someone else.” David continued, “People have said he shoplifted, started fights, stole women—who knows what else. Every time he had proof he was somewhere else. Hell, I’ve seen people accuse him before when I knew for a fact Ben had been with me during the time they claimed he was doing something bad. The whole idea is pretty funny once you really get to know Ben.”

The very hint of Ben doing anything but the most noble of acts had previously been met only with bemused smiles. Ben was the model boy scout, as many had referred to him both playfully and angrily during his ten years at the office. These days, though, that label didn’t stick as well.

Ben began to suspect that David’s real purpose was to attempt to pull him back from the abyss he was clearly falling into.

“Sure, sure,” Ben quipped, pushing himself away from the picnic table, “laugh riot.”

“Seriously, Ben,” David asked, “what’s up with you lately?”

“Need to run,” Ben said, “things to do. I’d ask you to join me but I doubt you could keep up.”

He didn’t turn back to see the look on David’s face—he didn’t need to.

“Who’s the evil twin?” he heard someone at the table whisper.

Ben’s pace didn’t slow, but his mind froze up.

Back at his desk, Ben couldn’t work. He kept seeing a frail figure, held down in chains, and begging for food.

But this wasn’t about what Ben was doing. The man had brought it all on himself. After all, David hadn’t gone over all of the things Ben had been accused of.

His mind wandered, and, just briefly, he almost felt as if he was back in that police interrogation room.

Two officers shouted allegations at him. They said multiple people, along with video surveillance, had identified him at the scene of the crime. They were so sure, so positive, so close to tearing down Ben’s life, before another murder had cleared him and set him free.

All of this was in his head, all of the changing attitudes, the shifting emotions. He needed to get a hold of himself, to prove he wasn’t anything like his supposed double. His hands gently shook as he brought them up to rub his eyes.

Ben pushed back from his desk and approached David’s.

“I’m really sorry,” Ben said.

He felt truly himself again, yet when David turned to face him, when he showed him that fat, bloated face, Ben still felt the other thoughts rise up.

“Why have you been like this?” David asked.

“Call it, maybe, I don’t know, a mid-life crisis. I think all this stuff about my double finally got to me. Look, do you care if I come over to your place tonight; hang out with you and Michele?”

“Sure, definitely, you know you’re always welcome.”

With the commitment made, Ben turned and walked away.

Back at his desk, he found his thoughts drifting towards the evening to come, towards what would happen, and eventually towards David’s wife, Michele. She was a rather attractive woman with a much slimmer figure than David could ever boast. It had always been a bit of a surprise to those who met her. Just seeing David and his bulk made their marriage seem improbable, and it often roused unsavory conversations from coworkers about the type of woman David should’ve been married to.

Oddly, Ben found his thoughts drawn very specifically to Michelle and her beauty as he sat at his desk. He had always talked to her politely, but rarely much more. He normally focused his attention more on his conversations with David than anything else. But now he thought only about her, about how much he looked forward to seeing her that night.

*****

“You aren’t going to make me change,” Ben said.

He set down the tray of food in front of his prisoner. The plate overflowed with different meats and bread, Ben had even provided the man a fork this time.

“You would’ve made someone a nice wife,” the man in the closet said.

Ben knelt until he could look directly into the man’s eyes.

“You won’t beat me.” he said, “I know who I am and I know what I am. No matter what you think, you can’t do anything to me anymore.”

The man’s gaze held him, and while his eyes lacked the intensity they once had, Ben still didn’t like looking into them.

“Maybe I don’t need to do anything,” the man whispered, “I think you’re handling all of that perfectly fine by yourself.”

Ben jerked up with a snarl on his face. He slammed the door shut.

*****

When he arrived at David’s, it was Michele who greeted him at the door.

“Hey Ben,” she smiled, “come on in.”

“Come on,” Ben said, “why not a hug?”

She accepted his embrace with a hint of reluctance, her smile faltering, but she didn’t pull away from him.

David was on the living room couch.

“How’s it going?” he called.

“Going good,” Ben said.

He smiled one last time at Michele and offered her a quick wink before heading in to the living room and taking up a seat next to David.

Michelle hesitated for a few seconds before departing into another room.

“Michele sure is looking great tonight,” Ben said, a broad, lascivious smile on his face..

David glanced over at him, one eyebrow up.

“Yeah,” he started, “she sure is. You know, you don’t normally talk about things like that, Ben. You always said it felt disrespectful.”

“Oh, sure, you’re right. Sorry about that.”

David let it slide, and fixed his attention back on the football game. Ben had never particularly cared for the sport, or any other sport for that matter, but David adored the game, so Ben had always attempted to join in David’s enthusiasm.

The living room itself was clearly David’s domain. Two jerseys hung on the wall, along with three shelves that contained miniature football helmets for every NFL team. There was even a mini-fridge next to the couch to ensure that David never needed to move very far to satisfy his needs.

On the coffee table in front of them, a discarded plate full of left over pizza crusts competed for space with an empty bowl, slick from recently devoured salsa, and a nearly empty bag of corn chips. Various sports magazines cluttered the table as well.

David was shouting at the screen, telling someone to, “dive for it dammit. Go on, dive.”

“I think I’ll grab something to eat,” Ben said, pushing himself up.

David nodded but his eyes never left the screen.

Ben went looking for Michelle.

He found her in the small office to the side of the kitchen.

“What are you up to?” he asked.

She looked up from the computer screen, but there was tension in her smile.

“Just updating some files.” she said, “Shouldn’t you be watching the game with David?”

“I think I have better things to watch in here.” Ben let his smile grow; he took a step towards her, “I’m struck by how beautiful you are, Michele.”

“What are you doing, Ben?”

“I’m just making a proclamation” he chuckled, “nothing more. Why get so uptight about it?”

“You know,” he continued, “you look rather tense. Here.”

He moved in closer, reaching out to massage her shoulders, but that was more than Michelle was willing to take. There was nothing subtle about his tone, and Michele lacked the same level of history he and David shared. She pulled back from his hands, and rose from her seat, her face scrunched with anger.

Ben had known what his words would do. He knew things that had happened to Michele when she was younger, things, said and done, that David had told him still harmed her to this day. The look that came over her told Ben he had hit every nerve he could with those few, simple statements.

“What’s taking so long?” David shouted from the living room.

They both could hear him struggling to get up from the couch.

Just briefly, as he stared at the emotions holding Michele in place, the sound of David getting ready to find him in his ears, Ben felt a fierce revulsion at what he was doing, felt an overwhelming urge to make amends and apologize for all of it, but instead he lunged at Michele.

His fingers latched onto her wrist, and she screamed, her body crumpling to the floor the second he touched her. Off in the next room, David shouted something. Michele broke into tears as the memories of so much unforgettable abuse punctuated Ben’s assault.

Inside him, Ben felt the voice of reason dwindle into nothing.

“My God,” David whispered from the open door, “what the hell.”

From out of his pocket Ben slipped a pocketknife he hadn’t realized he had brought. Michele froze up at the sight of it. Ben could feel David’s slow, bewildered approach from behind. His hand tightened in preparation.

*****

He awoke without realizing he had slept. His body came alert with a sharp jerk that cracked his head into the wall behind him. Around him, there was nothing but foul darkness to be found. He tried to stand, to move, but something rattling in the void held his arms and legs in place.

“This isn’t possible,” he whispered.

He tried to scream, but his voice was too hoarse to produce anything.

He felt no anger, all he could conjure was a deep sadness at the pain he had caused.

Hours passed that way before he heard the sound of a door opening somewhere close by. Calm, steady footsteps approached, and a light pierced through Ben’s eyes and forced his gaze away.

A small tear ran through the front of the man before him’s shirt, a few drops of red accenting it. The man knelt down, letting his arms drape across his knees. His fingers were stained with more of the dark red.

“You didn’t get it, Ben,” he said.

“How did you do this to me?”

“You never asked me why I came to see you. Before you jumped me and shoved me in there, you never asked.”

“What happened here?”

“I needed cash, Ben.” the man smiled, “Had you just given it to me none of this would’ve happened. I didn’t know that just being close to each other makes us rub off on each other a little, that it would ignite a fury that let you get the best of me, or make me soft with that self-doubt of yours.”

“But of course, being a pussy isn’t hard to deal with, it’s handling rage when you’ve never even been mad before. That corrupts a person. All I needed was a big enough window to escape through, and you were kind enough to give it to me.”

“Good thinking on those chains, by the way.” the man chuckled, “No way in hell was I about to get out of those.”

“You killed David?” Ben whispered.

The man pulled a severed ear out of his pocket and tossed it into the closet.

“Here,” he said, “a present for the days of isolation ahead of you.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Who knows?” the man smiled, “Things that come naturally to me I figure.”

“One thing I can say for certain,” the man leaned down, letting his gaze grab hold of Ben, “I’m getting the hell away from here. Don’t worry though, I’ll be back every few days to feed you, keep you going, but that’s all you’ll get.”

Ben’s muscles tensed as a sudden rage welled up inside him. He jolted against the chains that held him down, his lips pulled back into a snarl of rage. It didn’t last though, leaving him as quickly as it came.

“I can already feel you wiggling your way into my mind,” the man backed away from him, “making me want to let you go, to be kind to you. A little distance between us should take care of that.”

“Thanks for the cash, Ben, and the tail. Cooped up in there, a guy starts missing some action, and she was a fine one.”

The closet door slammed shut before Ben could say anything else. He didn’t scream. There was no point in screaming. He had been his other half just long enough to understand how meaningless a scream would be.

But Ben was not the same as the man he had held captive. He didn’t have the same desire to live his other hadn’t been able to let go of.

Ben began to fumble around the closet floor, searching for the fork he’d brought with the man’s food tray. It wasn’t hard for him to find it.

He drove the fork as sharply as he could into the soft skin of his neck.

Outside the closet door he heard calm footsteps falter.

He shoved the fork upward again.

The man outside stumbled closer to the closet.

Ben ignored the searing pain, all he could see was David and Michele’s faces.

Breathing became nearly impossible, yet he still managed to dig the fork in deeper.

He heard a fist slam into the other side of the door, and then fingers sliding down the wood. Knees struck the carpet.

Ben fell on his side, his nose filled with the awful stink, his neck torn into nothing, each breathe full of liquid.

His other half tried to say something, his lips pressed up against the bottom of the door, but it was lost to the wet gurgles of his passing.




































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