Chapter 16-- Double Blonde Homicide (Karen Hesson)
Karen takes the Tube to her apartment complex in Bromley. By the time she disembarks at Fieldway Station, she is holding back an urge for the loo. She stops briefly at the public toilet but finds it out of order. Exiting the station, she briskly makes her way down the street, about a 20 minute walk to her apartment in the frisky winter air, not noticing at all the figure emerging behind her and following the same path.
By now, the sun has settled into the late December evening sky like a ball of fire being gently extinguished. Within 10 minutes, she finds herself mostly alone on the dimly lit and scarcely populated street. Many nearby shops have closed early for the holidays and people are comfortably nestled in their homes. She longs to make it home as well if only to relieve this urge that has been pushing against her bladder since she left work over 30 minutes ago. She regrets not having gone to the loo before leaving the news station. She pauses briefly to squeeze her thighs together to help hold it in while pulling her overcoat closer into her chest.
And then she heard it.
It was faint. But unmistakable. The heavy sound of footsteps from not far behind. She would hardly have noticed it if it had not suddenly stopped shortly after she did. She glances back but sees no one along the shadowy walkway.
"Hello?"
No response.
Karen stares into the night for moment longer, then continues on her way homeward. She tries to ignore what she tells herself to be echoes from her own heels, but she is unable to shake the ominous feeling of another presence. Her anxiety only compounding her urge to burst her bladder as she presses her handbag firmly against her pelvis while shuffling her feet along. She comes across an alleyway and stops: This here is a shortcut that cuts directly to the back entrance of her apartment building, but she has never used it in the evening due to lack of lighting. She also knows she might not make it home in time otherwise before she loses control of her bladder. Drawing in a deep breath and taking one final glance behind her, she ducks into the alleyway and briskly sprints for her building.
She pricks her ears to listen for any signs of the stalker, but the only sounds she detects are the thumps of her own nervously beating heart and deep pants in the chilly winter air, a white cloud of vapor escaping with each gasp.
As she nears the rear gate, a shadow suddenly bursts out of the corner of her eyes and pounces in her direction. With a soft surprised cry she leaps backward and stumbles into a pile of rubbish. What emerges from the darkness turns out to be nothing but a stray black cat.
Karen lets out a sigh of relief. She's clamped her thighs tightly together as she falls and manages to hold it in. She climbs out of the repulsive pile and makes her way to the back gate. She eagerly rubs her thighs together in a hip-twitching pee dance as she reaches into her purse and fervently fishes for her keys. The dark alleyway provides no recourse as she struggles mightily, desperately sensing her bladder reaching its breaking point.
Just then, she feels a strong, firm hand touch her shoulder which sends a shiver jolting up her spine. She flings around and throws her palms in front of her chest with a terrified scream.
"Ahh! No! Please don't hurt me!"
She looks up with trepidation at a bulking figure: The man has a sandy blonde crewcut and rigid, squarish chin. The shadowy outline of his chiseled chest muscles can be seen pulsating against his tight-fitting security guard uniform.
"Easy there, Miss. I work security there in the next building. I heard a sound out here and thought I should have a look. Alright there?"
"Oh, er...yes. I'm sorry. I thought you... You were not following me down the street, were you?"
"No, ma'am. Though I did see a dodgy bloke down that way when I turned into the alleyway. He caught a glimpse of me and legged it the other way. I might have a look at the security camera to see if he's been hanging around."
"Oh my god, what a relief." Karen pushes a strand of her disheveled hair away from her face and reaches down to pick up her bag. The security quickly bends over to collect her fallen belongings for her. It was only then did Karen notice what had happened.
As the hulking security collects her scattered contents, he glances slightly up to see streams trickling down Karen's thighs, forming two dark lines across her nude stockings and forming a little musky puddle beneath her heels. A steady tinkle drips straight down from between her legs and splashes into the little pool at her feet. Karen is utterly gobsmacked as she stares down at the dark puddle.
"Oh my god! I'm so sorry, this is so embar..."
The man rises to his feet and hands Karen her belongings without making a fuss about it.
"Here you go, Miss. Have a safe night."
"Th...thank you so much. Same to you."
A red hot sensation flush across Karen's face as she timidly receives her belongings and quickly shuffles to the back gate, glancing back one last time with a gracious smile and timid wave.
"Happy New Year, kind sir..."
"Same to you, Miss."
No sooner had she vanished into her building, the man's facial expression changes completely. He pulls out a vial and pours its contents into down his throat. Then, stooping down, takes a deep whiff of the little puddle as he licks his lips lecherously, his jaw begins protruding out grotesquely as patches of thick greyish brown hair start forming around his face.
"Oh, I'll have a Happy New Year alright."
Behind him, buried in a dumpster, lies the corpse of a man that has been stripped of his security uniform.
Inside her home, Karen pins her back to the closed door, her heart pounding loudly against her chest.
("Oh my god! I can't believe I did that! Good thing he didn't make a scene of it.")
She quickly strips out of her pee-stained garments and prances nude into her washroom, turning on the water for a hot bath. All of a sudden, the lights in her flat cuts out, followed by a shattering sound in the kitchen. Karen jumps up and instinctively covers her bare chest with a small hand towel and creeps cautiously to the kitchen to investigate, flicking the light switch a few times with no outcome.
"Hello...?"
She listens to the sound of wind whistling at the balcony door as the curtain flutters menacingly like some translucent apparition. As she approaches carefully, she pulls back abruptly at the sudden sensation of a sharp sting on her bare foot.
"Ow...!"
She winces in pain and glances down at the shattered wineglass scattered over the kitchen tiles, shimmering in the moonlight, drawing a drip of blood on her toe. She hurries over to the front entrance to put on her heels before returning to the kitchen, this time grabbing a kitchen knife for potential self-defense. She cautiously approach the balcony door again, holding the knife in front with one hand and covering her bare chests with the other as the glass shards crunches under her heels.