Home > Deadly Vengeance

Deadly Vengeance
Author: O.M.J. Ryan

1

 

 

October 31st – Halloween

 

 

Hollie Hawkins climbed into the back seat of the large Range Rover parked outside the family home in Altrincham, taking extra care not to scuff her brand new, gleaming white Adidas trainers. She had bought them just that morning on a solo shopping trip into Manchester, along with the rest of the evening’s outfit: skinny jeans and a cute little T-shirt from Topshop, plus a funky black bomber jacket from Harvey Nichols. All courtesy of a credit card, of course.

From the front passenger seat, her mother turned to inspect her. She shook her head and let out a loud sigh of disapproval. ‘I do wish you’d get into the spirit a little more, Hollie. We are going to a Halloween party, after all.’

Hollie scoffed. ‘Just because you want to dress-up like Paddington Bear doesn’t mean I have to.’

‘I think you’ll find I’m a werewolf.’

‘Whatever,’ said Hollie, and turned her head away.

At that moment, the drivers’ door opened and a version of Count Dracula – Sir Richard Hawkins, the man who called himself her father – pulled himself up and behind the wheel. As normal, he was talking in a loud voice into his phone. ‘You tell them to get their bloody arses in gear and sort it out. If they don’t, then I’ll come over there personally, and they can explain to me why they’re so far behind schedule. These delays are costing me a fucking fortune.’

Hollie huffed, loud enough for him to hear. What kind of a man speaks like that in front of a fifteen-year-old daughter? He’s such an arsehole, she thought.

Hawkins soon pulled the car away towards their destination, continuing his discussion on his phone. In a vain attempt to drown him out, Hollie connected the tiny Bluetooth headphone pods that sat in her ears and turned up the volume. As music played, she folded her arms and stared out of the window, wishing she was somewhere else. Anywhere was better than being stuck in this fossil-fuel-guzzling monstrosity, driving to a lame Halloween party at her parents’ posh country club.

God. Hollie hated her life.

Fifteen minutes later, Hawkins turned the large SUV away from the main drag and onto the long private road leading to Marstons Golf and Leisure Club. Hollie stared out at the array of orange pumpkin lanterns and fake cobwebs that lined the road. The phone call came to an end as they entered the car park, and the car came to a stop. Her mum turned and waited for Hollie to remove her headphones.

With great reluctance, Hollie obliged. ‘What now?’

‘Do you need some money for food?’

‘There won’t be anything vegan in this dump,’ spat Hollie.

Hawkins let out a sardonic chuckle and locked eyes with Hollie in his rear view mirror. ‘At fifteen grand a year for membership fees, it’s hardly a dump.’

Hollie held his gaze.

‘Ok,’ her mum continued. ‘Well, how about some money for a diet coke or an orange juice?’

Hollie continued staring at Hawkins in the mirror as she said, ‘Twenty quid should do it.’

‘Twenty quid for bloody orange juice? What are you, diabetic or something?’ moaned Hawkins.

Her mum let out a deep sigh. ‘Stop teasing her and just give her the money, will you?’

Hawkins shook his head as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, then handed a crisp twenty-pound note over his shoulder to Hollie. She snatched the cash away and yanked open the back door of the car. A split second later, she dropped down onto the gravel drive.

Her mother continued to talk from the front seat. ‘Now Hollie, remember—’

Hollie slammed the door to cut her off. She had no intention of listening to anything else her mother had to say. Instead, she ran towards the front door of the club.

Inside, the club was decorated in the same style as outside: pumpkin lanterns, fake cobwebs and an assortment of spiders adorned every available surface. The lights were deliberately low to further enhance the ghoulish atmosphere, and it seemed everyone – except her – had chosen to wear fancy dress for the evening. For a split second she felt out of place and uncomfortable, but soon steeled herself, reasoning that they were sheep following the herd – something she would never be.

Keen to get as far away from her mother and Hawkins as possible, she knew she had to stay away from their favourite place, the bar. So she moved through the large ground floor and made her way to the outdoor tennis courts, which had been turned into a funfair for the evening. A mix of rides and amusements, ranging from bumper cars and a waltzer to ‘hook a duck’ challenges and candy floss machines, adorned the space. It all seemed pretty lame to her.

She let out a frustrated breath, which billowed like smoke in front of her face thanks to the cold autumn night, as she scanned the courts, looking for anyone she knew. She had always made a point of avoiding coming to the club whenever possible, so had yet to make any good friends. However, after a few minutes wandering through the space, she spotted a girl she had chatted to from time to time, and headed in her direction. The girl’s name was Charlotte, but everyone called her Lottie. Lottie was leaning against a wall on the edge of the tennis courts, staring down at the phone she held her hands. Like Hollie, she too had decided to forego a fancy-dress costume.

‘Hey?’ said Hollie, feeling a little nervous.

Lottie looked up from the screen. ‘Hey,’ she said, appearing nonplussed.

Hollie had never felt confident in social settings, and small talk wasn’t one of her strengths. ‘What you looking at?’

Lottie shrugged her shoulders. ‘Insta.’

The social media platform, Instagram. Hollie had an account, but rarely updated it. ‘Pretty lame party, huh?’ she said, hoping to make a connection.

Lottie glanced around and nodded. ‘Yeah. My parents make me come here all the time, and I fucking hate it.’

Hollie’s heart leapt. ‘Me too.’

Lottie looked Hollie up and down. ‘You didn’t fancy dressing up either?’

Hollie scoffed. ‘No way. It’s for kids and sad adults trying to recapture their adolescence.’

Lottie nodded. ‘Too right.’

Hollie tucked her hands in her pocket and swivelled on her heels, hoping to think of something else to talk about. As she turned back to speak, Lottie’s phone began to vibrate and the screen came to life. She answered it, and her demeanour changed in an instant as she stood tall, brimming with excitement. ‘Hey, girlfriend. Whatchya doin’?’ she said in a fake American accent. She turned away from Hollie, now totally engrossed with her phone call.

Hollie stood and watched Lottie for a moment, wishing she had someone to call too. But she was a bit of a loner at school, and didn’t know any of the local kids where she lived.

Standing alone for a few minutes, watching the ‘forced fun’ taking place around her, a pang of loneliness gripped her abdomen. Try as she might, she didn’t seem fit in anywhere.

‘Are you ok, love?’ a soft voice behind her said.

Hollie turned, and jumped as she came face to face with a figure, she suspected a woman, in a black mask and a long coat. ‘Jesus! You scared me.’

‘Oh, yeah. The Army of Two mask. It can have that effect sometimes,’ said the woman. She offered an outstretched hand. ‘I’m Blackie.’

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