Page 4 of The Taskmaster
“I’ll come and find you, okay?” I called out. “I’ll follow on behind. I’ll be there.”
And I would be there. Even if I had to go in my own time after clocking off. I would go to that little boy and make sure he knewhe wasn’t alone. I had to do something. I needed to make sure that he would get the help he was going to need to survive this.
“He’s gonna be okay.” Stamford spoke softly, a direct contrast to the way he’d spoken to me only moments ago. “Don’t worry, Dan. He probably won’t even remember this when he’s older.”
Chapter Three
THE TASKMASTER
They thought I wouldn’t remember. But I never forgot a single second of what happened to me that night... and afterwards.
Present day
The Taskmaster
A shipping container in the middle of an abandoned warehouse.
A warehouse on an old industrial estate.
An industrial estate no one ever came to because of the ‘Danger’ and ‘Keep Out’ signs... except for me.
I came here.
But only when I had reason to.
Today, I’d chosen to wear a yellow hazmat suit with steel-capped boots and a pair of surgical gloves. I liked the vibe this look gave. That what I was dealing with was toxic, and I needed protection.
I pulled the protective hood over my head as I stood outside the shipping container. The black breathing equipment was perfect, in my opinion, to complete the look. A breathing mask that’d soon become a death mask.
I lifted the metal handle on the door of the container and wrenched it open. The grind of metal as I pulled it made my teeth stand on edge, like nails down a chalkboard. But that feeling soon turned to anticipation when I saw what was waiting for me inside.
My breaths amplified, heavy rasps grating through the mask as I stepped into the container. I walked slowly towards the metal chair that was secured to the floor. A chair with a man strapped to it, his head covered with a cloth sack. His snivels and grunts resonated off the metal walls as he heard me approach, and he tried to plead his innocence, begging for mercy through the gag in his mouth. My footsteps were heavy. My movements slow and measured, just like I wanted them to be. I was in total control of myself and this situation, but more importantly, of this man’s fate.
I stopped in front of him, taking a second to appreciate the moment. It was his turn now. His turn to find out what it was like to feel totally and utterly helpless.
I didn’t speak. Instead, I reached forward and grabbed the cloth sack from his head, pulling it off, then throwing it to the floor. In front of me sat a pathetic excuse for a man. He was elderly now, his hair thin and grey, his stomach even podgier than it was back then. He peered up at me with eyes wide with terror, his head shaking as he gave a muffled cry and pulled on the restraints holding him down. It wouldn’t do him any good. He wasn’t going anywhere. I wasn’t an amateur. I knew what I was doing.
I continued my silence as I turned and walked over to a table set up to the side, where knives, axes, swords, pliers, everyweapon you could think of and more were laid out ready. But first, I picked up the remote control and turned to face the man. I pointed at the television set on the far side of the container, letting him know I wanted him to watch it, and then I pressed play.
The TV came to life, playing a video I’d prerecorded. The red, LED Halloween mask I wore filled the screen, with crosses for eyes and a stitched-up, smiling mouth, just like something from The Purge movies. The guy in the chair snivelled, still pulling on his restraints. He'd learn soon enough how futile that was. If he knew what was good for him, he’d listen to the damn video and stop fucking struggling. He wasn’t getting out of here anytime soon.
I turned the volume up and moved to stand beside him as the voice changer I always used to disguise my real voice echoed around the shipping container.
“Good evening, Kevin, or as I like to call you, The Cherry Man.”
The rattling from the chair went silent. His eyes were transfixed on the screen now as my recorded voice continued.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here.” The red mask tilted as my head moved to the side in the video. “And what made you so fucking special to end up in my playroom? Why you,Kevin? I must admit, it’s been a long time coming, but everything had to be right before you came here. I needed this to be perfect... for you. You’re going to love what I have in store.”
There was a pause. Then on the video, I asked, “Do you know why I call you The Cherry Man? Do you remember,Kevin?”
The guy shook his head, and I took a deep breath.
He fucking knew.
But I also knew he’d deny it, which was why I’d recorded the next part.
“I thought you’d play dumb, so I’m going to give you a little reminder. Take a trip down memory lane. But I must warn you, Kevin, this trip isn’t going to be much fun...” The mask moved closer, filling the screen with just the crosses for eyes. “For me or you. But especially you.”
