Benjamin Black

Benjamin Black struck the steel knife against the sharpener with the ferocity of a possessed soul. Click. Clank. Click. Clank. His head down, he stared at the blade, watching it get sharper—more deadly.

            The abandoned barn had no electricity, and the only light seeped in from some cracks around the wide, wooden doors. The man bound to the chair sat in the far corner. Darkness hid him, but Benjamin could hear him breathe.

            I’ve captured him—the evil one. The one responsible for the girls. Finally, I’ll kill him.

            The minuscule amount of sunlight that invaded the dark place sparkled off the knife. He continued to sharpen as sweat dripped off his nose.

            Almost ready.

            “That knife must be awfully sharp by now,” the voice said from the darkness. Benjamin whirled to face the man. “I wonder what you plan to do with it.”

            Benjamin’s face filled with redness. He squeezed the handle of the knife and pointed it at the man. “You know what I’m going to do,” he said with a shaky voice.

            “Oh, that’s right. How silly of me to forget. You’re going to kill me. Is that right?” the man said, whimsically.

            “Yes. I will kill you.”

The man laughed loudly. “Your naivete never fails to amuse me. You should have learned by now, Benjamin, that you cannot kill me.”

“Shut up! I will kill you!” Benjamin screamed. He turned his back abruptly and stomped a few steps away. He struck the knife against the sharpener with rising intensity—his blue eyes burning with rage.  

Don’t let him get to you. The preternatural monster. He is the one that did it to the girls. Hell is waiting for him. And he will burn.

“I suppose I should be careful not to anger you. The dangerous Benjamin Black. The horrific killer,” the man said in a sardonic tone.

“I am not a killer,” he screamed as he turned towards him again. He took a deep breath, trying to induce calmness and said, “I could never hurt anyone. But I will kill you.”

“And what makes me so special?”

“Don’t play with me. I know what you did. I saw you trick them into your car. I watched you drive them up here. I saw every sick thing you did to them.” Benjamin spun violently. He bent at the waist, nausea overwhelming him. He gagged several times, but only spit up saliva.

The sick bastard. He couldn’t just kill them. He had to unleash his twisted perversion on them first. The ineffable things I watched him do. The horror he brought to them in the last minutes of their young lives. I must be strong. I must end his pernicious existence.

Benjamin looked at the man and said, “At least you could have had the decency to bury them. But no, you just left them there. Left them to rot under the sun. Lying in all those muddy leaves.”

“Well, it appears you have it all figured out. I wonder why you don’t call the authorities to confirm your suspicion of me.”

“Don’t try and trick me,” Benjamin snapped back. “That’s what you want me to do. You know that if you’re arrested for this then you can find a way out of it. You’re too smart for the legal system, but not too smart for me. I saw what you did. I’ve captured you. And there’s no way I’m going to let the police, or the lawyers, or a jury anywhere near you. I’m the one that will get justice for those girls.”    

Benjamin walked back to his earlier position, and resumed sharpening the knife. His breathing was steady; the nausea had passed.

I am ready. Now, I will kill him.

“Sometimes it does seem beautiful, though. Doesn’t it, Benjamin?”

“Beautiful? What do you mean?” he asked without taking his eyes off the knife.

“It must be beautiful for you. When a dead little girl can make everything seem so clear.”

“Shut up!” he shouted, lowering the knife.

“Didn’t it all come into focus for you, Benjamin? Wasn’t everything perfectly clear when you did those girls?”

Benjamin’s fury erupted with a scream as he charged at the man. He stopped a foot short of him and shouted, “Don’t try and blame me for what you did! I didn’t do anything to those girls! You’re the one that killed them!”

“I see that the blurs are still there.”

“Blurs? What blurs?”

“The blurs that prevent from seeing what is real, and what is not.”

“Shut up! Shut up with your lies!” Benjamin took a step forward, and held the blade to the man’s throat. He pictured the blood that would pour out of the cut. A sea of redness that would drip into the cracks of the ancient floorboards.

I’ll leave you here to bleed to death. To die in this old, dark place.

Benjamin wheezed as he sucked in the stagnant air. His hand trembled as it gripped the weapon. The man watched him calmly, his blue eyes daring him to make the cut. He pulled the knife away in frustration, and walked a few steps away. He leaned over—nauseous again. 

The man waited a moment and then asked, “Why didn’t you do it? Why didn’t you kill me?”

“I will kill you,” he said. He spit on the floor and stood upright.

“I think I know why you’re reluctant to kill me.”

Benjamin faced the man and said, “Shut up! I don’t care what you think.”

“I think you’re afraid of what you may do after you leave here,” the man said, seeming amused by his own thought.

“What?” Benjamin took a step closer.

“Tell me, Benjamin, what do you plan to do after you kill me and leave this place?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“I believe I know exactly what you’ll do,” the man replied, flashing a mocking smile.

“You don’t know anything!” Benjamin yelled and took a few steps towards the door. He stopped as the sunlight glistened off his forehead. He took a deep breath and looked back at the man. “I plan to be with my family.”

“Ahh, yes, your family. How silly of me to forget about your lovely wife and two fine children. Of course you would want to spend time with them. When you see them tonight, I suspect that you’ll suggest a family outing.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked as he turned and returned to sharpening the knife.

“I believe you’ll offer to take your family out to a movie. What do you think, Benjamin, will you take them to a movie?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. What do you care?”

‘I’m just amusing myself picturing the scene.”

“What scene?”

“You and your wife will discuss the proper movie to take your children to see. Your wife will work hard to choose the perfect movie, but you won’t care. You will only care about going to the movie theatre on Morgan Hill.”

Benjamin stopped sharpening and looked at the man, seeming alarmed by his words.

“I see that you know the theatre I speak of. I believe the theatre is not far from here. In fact, one would have to drive right past this old barn and past these secluded woods to get there. Wouldn’t one, Benjamin?”

“Stop talking!” Benjamin ordered as he pointed the knife at him.

“You’ll talk your wife into going to any of the movies that happen to be playing there,” the man shot back. Benjamin took a step towards him, but the man continued: “And you will go. And you will drive. And when you pass these woods, you’ll stop the car. You’ll tell your family that you have to pee. And you will walk into these dark woods. And you will remember exactly where she is.”

“Shut up!” Benjamin screamed. He leaned over and vomited on the musty barn floor. His face stayed close to the floor as his breathing labored at a frantic pace.  

“And you will go to her. And you will stand over her. And it will seem like you’re doing it to her again. And it will feel just as beautiful to you.”

“Shut up!” Benjamin hollered, his face still close to the floor.

“And your family will be waiting in the car. Your children will wonder if Daddy is all right in the dark and scary woods. And that will excite you even more. Maybe even enough to touch yourself. What do you think Benjamin? Will you jack-off over her dead little body?”

Benjamin leapt to his feet, turned towards the man, and charged him like a voracious lion. He pounced on him, knocking the chair over. The man was still bound tightly to the chair as Benjamin dug his knees into his chest. He held the blade above his throat—ready to thrust. The man looked at him—his fearless eyes boring into Benjamin’s soul.

Do it!

Benjamin rolled off of him, and ran towards the light. He dropped the knife and used both hands to slid open the heavy, wooden door. The sunlight cleansed him as he sprinted through the wooded area. With the New England leaves whisking around his ankles, he finally slowed to catch his breath.

Looking around, his eyes took a moment to focus. Then he saw it. The house stood in front of him like a sinister phantom—daring him to return for another look. He frantically looked around the area. He could still see the barn. The woods surrounded him; the narrow country road was within eyesight.

How did I get here? Why am I standing near my father’s house?

He moved slowly towards the house—trepidation with each step. He neared a bay window, and peered inside. He saw his father, a man in his late fifties, kissing a young woman in her thirties. Three young children scampered around the living room rug. His father frolicked and played with the children as if he were a good man—a man who cared about children.

You sick bastard. Now that you’re an old, broken man you want a family. Now, you’ll stay home and kiss your wife and play with your children. Will you sneak out and dick some whore in a sleazy motel while your family is asleep? Will you close the local dive and pass out in your truck? Will you beat them?—like you beat us. Now you’re ready. Now you want a family.            

Benjamin dashed away from the house, and ran back towards the barn. His feet crushed crisp leaves with every step as the cool autumn breeze tossed his hair. Suddenly, an object hidden by the leaves tripped him. He tumbled to the ground with a thud. He looked back to inspect the hidden object, and saw something strange.

Streaks of bright red mixed with the dull colors of the muddy leaves. He moved closer and saw her.

Another one! He killed another girl! This time he has gone too far. Finally, I will kill him.

He sprinted the remaining distance and slipped back into the barn. He found the knife where he dropped it, and picked the weapon up.

Now you will die!

He charged towards the dark corner, but this time he did not stop. He thrusted the knife forward, expecting to pierce the skin of the man. The knife hit only air as his body crashed against the empty chair. From the floor, he looked around in disbelief. The rope that bound him was tied tightly around the chair—but he was gone.

He wearily rose to his feet. He staggered forward a few steps, looking in all directions. “Where are you? Where are you hiding?” he shouted into the blackness of the deserted barn. He dropped to his knees, and fell forward.

He lay there on the floor, and, at last, he could see himself. His eyes flickered in the complete blackness as he smelled his own flesh burn from the fire shooting up through the chasms beneath him.

Copyright (c) 2004 by Dan Smith