Notorious by John Jones (novel books to read txt) 📕

their judgements were correct, and that Ribbet was no longer a violent person, but even so, the lack of chains or bodyguards meant that they had faith in him.

“I don’t murder any more, or do things I shouldn’t,” said Ribbet, as though reading his mind.

“Yes,” said Abe, “We’ve been studying him for eight years, and he always used to attack other inmates and staff, but he hasn’t done that in a while, have you Ribbet? I think you are quite safe in the company of others now. We let you on a computer, didn’t we? You’ve got a nice sofa, and satellite television. It was Ribbet who found you, Curio. He led me to you”.

“Really? I have Ribbet to thank for this?” Curio smiled genuinely and shook Ribbet’s hand again.

“Thank-you, Ribbet, much appreciated”.

“I’m a big fan of yours,” said Ribbet. “Big fan”.

“Shall we go to the club-house?” said Abe, walking in that direction. They all turned and walked across the green, Ribbet at the back. Curio heard the sliding of metal, heard a crack, then a slump. All of them turned to see Abe, lying on the grass, twitching, a six- iron wedged into the top of his head. One trickle of blood seeped from the wound. Ribbet pulled it free and advanced towards Curio.

“Ribbet!” shouted Gerry, but Ribbet grabbed Curio’s lapels before he could turn to run. “You stay here,” he said, turning with him and throwing him to the ground. The others all ran as fast as they could down the slope. Ribbet lifted the six-iron and sent it towards Curio’s right shin. It carved through the bone easily. Curio screamed, his face red, his eyes wide. He grasped at the wound, but Ribbet cracked the other shin bone. Curio screamed again.

“Now you can’t run away,” said Ribbet. He paced around for a few moments, while Curio tried in vain to put right his feet. When he finally accepted that he could do nothing, he lay back trying to clamber away from Ribbet who walked with him, swinging the club around.

“You get away from me you fucking maniac!” Curio shouted. Ribbet pointed the club at him accusingly.

“I want to know, Curio, I want to know if you meant what you said on the e-mail”.

“What?”

“Why? Curio, Why? I respected you, you were my friend. You said you didn’t want me to email you again. I’m a fan, Curio, a fan, but you ignored me, you cut off our friendship, now tell me why”. Curio was breathing heavily.

“Have you, have you, been on good behaviour to see me?” Ribbet nodded.

“I was thinking about getting out anyway. Sometimes I think about getting out to see the rest of the world, but then I get scared. I’ve got a home, Curio. They let me have a computer, yes, TV. Comforts. Regular food. I don’t mind it. Being observed and studied doesn’t bother me.

 

The outside world does. It scares me, I don’t mind telling you, so I commit violence to stay inside, but you, you got me so fucking angry when you said for me not to e-mail you. You were my friend in the outside world. You ‘were’ my friend. I want to know if you meant what you said. If you didn’t, then we can go back to being friends”.

“What?” asked Curio, “Friends? Friends? Are you fucking stupid? I wouldn’t want you as a friend, you’re a mental case”. Ribbet raised the club and stepped towards him. Curio clambered back, but stopped, knowing it was futile.

“Didn’t you think?” Curio continued. “Didn’t you think that killing Abe, and breaking my legs would mean you’ll never get out. They’ll take your computer off you, and your TV, and everything else. Are you so stupid that you didn’t think of that?” Ribbet stood astride Curio at his chest, the club ready to strike. He hit his clavicle, cracking it. Curio yelled.

“I wanted to see you. Now look what you’re making me do”.

“You came here to save a friendship, but you can’t salvage it, can you?” said Curio, breathing heavily through waves of pain. “You’re one of those people who sometimes seem quite normal, yet can be absolutely insane”. Ribbet sent the four iron into his jaw, but it didn’t break. Curio screamed.

“Stop it, Curio. If you want my respect, you be nice to me, okay? I don’t want to hurt you”.

Curio fell back, his head over the eighteenth hole.

“You want me to be nice? You want me to be your friend?” Ribbet nodded.

“Yes, Curio. I want to respect you, but I can’t, until you’ve told me that what you said on the e-mail was not true”. Curio hesitated for a few seconds. This was picked up by Ribbet.

“Well?” he said “I think you meant it, didn’t you? ‘cos if you didn’t mean it, you would have said so by now, but you mean it, don’t you? You mean it?”

“How can I mean it?” said Curio, attempting to appease him. “Who wouldn’t want you as a friend?”

“You said that sarcastically, didn’t you? You did, didn’t you? What’s wrong with me?

Why don’t you want me as a friend?”

“Why the fuck would I want you as a friend?” Curio shouted. “You’re a fucking lunatic”. “No!” screamed Ribbet, and hit Curio repeatedly on the side of the head with the club. Curio screamed. Ribbet saw that lying beside Curio was the eighteenth flagpole. He threw the club aside, and reached down to pick it up. He straightened up, and held it like a sacrificial dagger. He looked down at Curio’s bloodied face, who saw the stern expression of Ribbet. Their eyes met, and Curio knew at that point, in a nano-second, that his dreams were shattered.

“Ribbet! No, no, please!” Ribbet tensed his muscular arms, and sent the pole down. Curio screamed, but the pole cut it short as it tore through his mouth, splitting his spinal vertebrae tearing out of the back of his head until it could go no further. Ribbet stepped away from him, watching him twitch. He turned and walked back towards the club house, but stopped when he reached the rough. Looking down at the grass, he sighed.

“Curio,” he said, quietly. He looked back at him. Curio was unmoving. He was dead.

 

A tear trickled from Ribbet’s right eye. All was quiet. He walked slowly back towards Curio, his left eye now shedding a tear.

“I’m sorry, Curio, I didn’t mean it,” he said. He reached the body and knelt down beside him. He stared at Curio’s glazed eyes.

“Wake up, Curio,” he said. “I’m your friend”. He shook Curio’s left hand in a vain attempt to wake him.

“Curio, please. Please wake up”. More tears flowed, and it dawned upon him that Curio would not be waking up. Perhaps he had discovered if the spirit world was real. If it wasn’t, then he had discovered nothing.

 

Ribbet’s face grew red. I’ve done it again, he thought. I’ve killed another potential friend. They always hurt me. Always disrespect my loyalty. He shook his head. He had no answers. He did not know why people avoided him. When the hand of friendship was offered his way, it was usually always retracted when Ribbet’s past history was revealed to them, but he could never let them go.

 

With such an unstable mind, he was prone to emotional attachments even without seeing the other person, with few interactions.

“I’m sorry Curio,” he said. “I know, like you did, that the spirit world is real, and that is where you are now. Don’t worry, we can still be friends. I’m coming. Wait for me”. He looked around him, then back at Curio. He clenched his left fist, and brought his wrist to his mouth. He forcefully bit into the skin, and tore away flesh. It fell from his lips. Blood pumped from the wound. He did the same to the other wrist. He looked up to the sky, both wrists pouring blood onto the grass.

“I’m coming Curio. We can be…friends. Wait for me”. It took a few minutes, but Ribbet began to sway, and eventually, he collapsed to the side, alongside his friend, his dead eyes staring at Curio.

 

A Sparrowhawk was sat upon a branch of a sapling, looking down at the green. The place was quiet, and a slight breeze ruffled its feathers. It stretched its wings, and took flight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

About the author:

 

 

As a native of Liverpool, England, I write twisted tales of horror, crime and mystery, and sometimes I'll dabble in other genres. I have written over ninety short stories, two novels and appeared in various publications. When I am not writing I enjoy drawing and painting.

Imprint

Publication Date: 12-08-2021

All Rights Reserved