Allison Crane - And we listened.

Hums of a dying engine chugged nearby. Crunches of gravel beneath tyres faded. I lay still with my eyes closed. My ears pricked. Now, the feet would crunch the gravel, then the door would swing open and there would be a muffled conversation. Then silence.
At first I'd been spying, watching his every move but my vantage point was weak. A leather jacket and dark hair was all I could make out. Now, I resorted to listening.
Honestly, I was bored. My arm was not fully healed from the fall and I'd been confined to one room. My new assignment wasn't proving useful, still I couldn't help my curiosity. Why was he here? Who was he? I wanted answers.

I sat up and cracked an eye feeling a presence in the room. A pair of jet black, beady eyes greeted me. The boss. After a moment of intense staring I realised I would have the pleasure of his company on my next venture. Perhaps I'd become too slow. Dragging my heels. I stood and headed for the door. I was far from being a prisoner despite only venturing out for food. 
Our headquarters were secret, or at least they were supposed to be. This new arrival wasn't a recruit, hence why I'd been tasked with the job of finding out who he was, where he came from and what he wanted. But the only way he could have got inside is with the help of someone in the know. Following the mumbling voices to an office on the ground floor I pressed myself against the wall and strained to hear. The boss stood across from me and mirrored my action.
"He was never going to make it easy for us." said the first voice, a female.
"No, but he didn't need to be this cold. You don't deserve it." replied a second voice, a male. He spoke softly, in the back of my mind I felt the tugs of memory but I couldn't find a string to follow.
"He didn't care about us before. Why now?" the female asked exasperatedly.
"Jealousy? Guilt? I don't know. Either way we'll get through it. All of us. Together." the man replied, again his voice was soft, kind. There was something sincere and trustworthy about his words. I frowned as my boss straightened. Nothing of what we had heard pointed to a traitor or an infiltration of our organisation.
The room had gone silent. Pressing my face against the cold wood I peered through the keyhole. Something was blocking my view. All of a sudden the handle turned. My heart jumped into my throat. Scrambling to my feet I fled down the nearest corridor. Sliding around a corner I tucked myself against the wall and held my breath.
"What was that?" I heard the woman ask
"I think we've been made," the man said, quickly adding "I should go."
I held my breath until I heard the engine roar into action and the gravel crunch once again.
Looking down I noticed a graze across my knee. Red liquid ran in a slow line down my leg.

"Oh, Ted," I heard my mum say "were you earwigging? I do hope you don't report back to Allison. I would appreciate if I could tell her myself."

Allison Crane (And we listened-issue six), copyright of Lucy Holland. 09.04.2014

Allison Crane- And she lied.

And she lied.

There was an eerie silence when I awoke. Although my surroundings were familiar I had no recollection of how I'd arrived. Attempting to sit up I pushed backwards and my arm felt like a dead weight by my side. Looking down I understood why, they had encased me in some sort of metal brace. At the end where my fingers should have been was a chain running from the bracelet and connecting me to the floor.
"Great!" I thought aloud.
My voice echoed through the emptiness and once again I was struck by the resounding silence. A shiver ran down my spine. I tugged at the chain and it crashed against the floor clanging loudly in the small space I inhabited. The chain was thick and heavy, no way could I cut through it, even if I could find something to saw with! No, there was only one other option, I'd have to pull free of the bracelet.
Setting my jaw I twisted my arm and pulled with all my might. Pain seared through my bone and my skin burned against the rusting cast. A whimper escaped my mouth and I lay back scrunching up my face in an attempt not to cry. I had to be strong, to face whatever lay beyond the door in the quiet world outside. Biting down hard I pulled again and felt the slip of skin against metal, it was working!
After a few more moments of intense pain and teeth grinding I was free, though my arm didn't look or feel any better for it. Pushing my hurt from my mind I approached the door. In their absolute faith in my being bound by the chains my captors had failed to lock the main door. I was out in the corridor in the blink of an eye. Whipping my head around there was no one in sight. Slowly, I made my way towards an opening where a faint light glowed.
Stairs. I descended as quietly as I could but the slap of naked feet on cold stone was difficult to muffle. As I reached the bottom a noise broke the steady stream of nothingness and I froze.
The light was originating from a room directly in front of me, as was the sound. Interrupted breathing. I listened intently, then came another. Someone was crying. Stifling sobs on the other side of the door. Creeping over I pushed hoping this door too would be unlocked. The hinges gave beneath my soft touch and created a gap, just wide enough for me to see through.
'Mum!' I thought, fighting myself to go through and aid her. Her back was to me but I knew it was her, probably tied to the chair while they tortured her for information. I waited for the culprits to show their faces but no-one appeared.
'It could be a trap.' My mind suggested. Even so, I couldn't leave her there. I plucked up the courage to enter, sticking to the shadows and surveying the room. She sobbed again, hard. I swallowed.
"Mum!" I whispered.
In a flash she whipped her head round and wiped her eyes.
"How long have you been there?" she asked.
"Does it matter?" I replied.
"You should be in bed. Oh Allison what the hell have you done to your cast?" she raged seeing my naked arm.
"Oh, about that," I started.
"No. No more stories about being held prisoner! I've had enough of your games. Get your coat, we'll have to go back to the hospital and get you a new cast straight away!"
"What's that?" I asked noticing the slip of paper on the table.
"Nothing." She said too quickly, "Now, get your coat."

Allison Crane (And she lied-issue five), copyright of Lucy Holland. 08.04.2014

Allison Crane- And he appeared.

And he appeared.

Failure was not an option. Trapped in the clinical white room with the rest of the prisoners I knew I had to escape. Fear aside, pain ignored I pressed my back against the wall and edged around the room feeling for a door, a hinge, a crack...anything. The other prisoners were so wrapped up in their own problems they ignored me on the whole. Looking around I wondered how long some of them had been held captive. White hair, dirty nails and a steady stare that told me they'd all but given up.
Just outside the door a huge female guard kept watch, shooting me a dirty look every now and then. I made sure my face didn't give anything away as I wove my way between the others. I reached the door and ducked down beneath the guards watchful eye. A quick survey of the room told me there was not another exit on ground level. If I wanted out I would have to go up. A tiny window high in the wall promised light, air and freedom. But it was so high and with my arm in tatters making the climb would require my utmost strength.
I scaled one of the wooden benches at the back of the box room. There was a broken stone which doubled as a foot hold in the wall. I stood for a moment contemplating how best to go about the climb when a voice rang out.
"Allison Crane." it boomed.
The guard had seen me! I span, a little too fast in my haste to appear innocent. My feet became entangled in each other and I gulped as the floor raced towards me a second time that day.
"Woah there! Easy, don't want two broken arms now do you?" A man said as he caught me. Something in his eyes told me he was an ally, perhaps he would aid me escape even.
"Allison! For goodness sake!" My mum's voice cut through the air. "What is wrong with you?" she scolded me.
"She's just being a kid, looks like you got a daredevil there." The man replied helping me stand on my own feet next to the plastic chair opposite.
"Yes well, it was the daredevil that brought us here. Come on, the doctors ready now." Mum said.
I peered around her to see a rotund nurse eyeing me and awaiting us to follow her. Mum turned on her heel and walked with the nurse down an adjoining corridor. I paused and turned back to the kind man. He didn't seem at all hurt or ill like the rest of the patients in the A and E waiting room.
"Thanks!" I muttered before I ran after Mum, careful not to trip or bump my already sore arm.

Allison Crane (And he appeared-issue four), copyright of Lucy Marsh. 12.01.2014

Allison Crane- And it snapped.

And it snapped.

The car park was deserted. Something felt wrong, the air tasted dirty. Every footstep I made seemed to echo. Rebounding off the surrounding buildings with  outrageous force. Surely I would be heard, caught or seen. I could see the particular building I intended to search towering in front of me. I'd come so far through all the enemies assault courses and evaded their traps. There was no way they would allow the most vulnerable asset to remain unguarded.

Almost as soon as the thought entered my head I heard the squeak of a metal gate and heard the pounding of feet coming my way. There was no time.

I ran, pushing hard on my already weary legs. Crashing into the side of the building I began to scale the outside using a less than stable metal stair case. The footsteps grew louder and the whistle of radios filled the air.

"Get down from there!" A voice cried above the rest. It hadn't come from below where the men had gathered, guns raised. The voice originated from an adjacent building. Turning too fast in an attempt to face the window from which a woman was hanging, waving a finger, I missed my footing.

My hands grasped for something to hold but every bar slipped through my fingers.

The ground broke my fall and knocked all the air from my lungs. I screwed up my eyes and doubled over in pain.

"Allison!" My mum shouted. I cracked open an eye. Mum was running down the garden path towards my location, the postman was crouched beside me holding a cardboard tube and looking fairly distressed.

"I think it's broken." I managed clutching my arm. Without a word Mum hauled me to my feet and bundled me into the car. As she started the engine I noticed she was still wearing her slippers.

"What on earth were you doing up that tree?!"

Allison Crane (And it snapped-issue three), copyright of Lucy Marsh. 12.01.2014

Dear Reader,

It was a cold dark night...
Oh come on, who am I kidding? It's always cold and always dark. If it was sunny and warm there would be no story. Well, there might but it would be a lot less interesting and much less disturbing. I mean seriously, if you were me you would have stuck to the shadows too.

This is my story. Who am I? That's not important, what is important is that I tell you my version of events before that cow from the press posts the tale everyone is waiting to hear. Detailed, horrific and dramatic...but all lies.
Except for the part where I killed you.

Stop laughing.
You died two months ago. I know because I was there, so you can quit pretending you are alive or just reading a book. You're dead. Buried, cold and still.
They didn't let me see you after that night but I have it on good authority you were put to rest in your favourite black number, you know- the one you wore for special occasions. Shame I never got to see it.

Anyway, where was I?
I don't care what the public think, when they read the story it will be twisted and marred. All the art of my craft soiled with words like 'monster' and 'psychopath'. Ha!
I am ashamed to say you weren't my first, but you were, without a doubt, my best. My favourite, even. You decided your own fate. I guess in the end we all do. You chose to tread the path of righteousness and I chose to cut you down to size. 
Did you honestly think no-one could touch you? That you were immortal?  
Who's laughing now?

Without seeing me you probably think it was a spur of the moment killing. I can assure you- you weren't just in the 'right place at the wrong time'. I planned every detail. Followed you, watched, waited and finally took you.
Part of me wishes I hadn't done it, just in case the afterlife is as beautiful as it sounds. You don't deserve for your soul to basque in glory for eternity. If Hell exists, that's where you belong. Rotting, tortured and beyond salvation.
I hated you. I hate you. I will hate you until I die, probably in this tiny cell but I can live with that until then.

You know, I've changed my mind. No-one should know the true story. It doesn't matter what they think of me and you...well you're dead.

See you soon...

Dear Reader, copyright of Lucy Marsh. 12/01/2014