Extracts from a journal recovered from Janus Mason
14th May 2011
The plan is going ahead well.
Pol wears his heart openly on his sleeve which makes him very easy to read and be one step ahead of all the time. When we train he cannot help but talk about everything that is going on in his life. We have established a bit of a pattern to their behaviour that also makes them easy to deal with. In the morning after the animals and the other routine jobs are done he goes out training where I normally meet up with him and get the days update on his life story and listen to him as he gives me further tales of woe about his writing and how he is just struggling to maintain impetus in writing his third book. Then he gets home from training and sits in his conservatory and writes for a few hours. In the afternoon and early evening he might go hunting on the farm. Whilst he does this Fleur stays home in the morning and will often go into town whilst he writes and stops for a coffee in Morrison’s café or browses around the shops in the town. This gives me a great chance to meet up with her later on in the morning and will start the doubt growing in her mind.
I saw her in Morrison’s this morning. She was just having a coffee on her own. He will have been writing at home, I have no doubt.
“Hi, can I join you for a few minutes?” I asked her.
“Oh, yes Jan, please sit down. How are you?” She said.
“Thanks,” I sat opposite her. “I am fine, how about you?” I asked her.
“Yes, we are ok. Pol is writing hard at the minute, his second book has just to hit the shelves and the publishers are putting a bit of pressure on him to write more. They can’t get enough of his work at the moment!” She said.
Here was my chance for some more division. “Yes, but what about you? Not Pol, you?” I asked. It was very difficult to identify where one of them stopped and the other started so even harder to try and find a gap to pry open.
“I am ok. Just slipped out for a quiet coffee and five minutes. Although it is quite difficult to get a quite minute in here” she looked past me and at one of the care in the community cases that was sitting on a table to my left and talking in a loud voice to God.
“Yeah, for sure. They could do with sorting out” I laughed with her. (He made me shudder with revulsion).
“Fleur, the pigs are going to be going to the slaughter house this week, would you like some of the pork?” I asked her.
“Yes please, that would be good. Pol likes pork” She said.
She finished up her coffee and picked up her few items of shopping and left.
I went into the store and found the paper back section. Pol’s second book was on the shelf and I picked it up.
A little later. Enough time for her to get home and to have made a coffee and be speaking to Pol I sent her a text message
“Nice to see you this morning”
She did not reply. She didn’t need to. It was for Pol to see or hear the alert and ask her who was texting her. I couldn’t help laugh to myself.
15th May 2011
This morning we are going to step up the tactic. When I am out training with Pol Ivy will visit Fleur and tell her that our sex life has suffered and she can’t quite put her finger on what is going wrong but I just don’t seem as interested in her any more.
The training with Pol went well. He has asked me if I would do a bit of sparring with him. I haven’t done anything like that for years. But I can’t wait. We will do it in the barn, the floor is clear and it is pretty clean. Whilst we were out I saw the Mitsubishi drive out of our lane. I knew that Ivy was on her way to Morrison’s café. Another seed sown.
Couldn’t wait to speak to Ivy to ask her how it went. Whilst I was in the shower she climbed in with me.
“Well, what happened then?” I quizzed her.
She poured some shower gel into a smooth blue puddle in her hand. She started to soap my chest with the gel. Running her delicate but accurate hands over my pectoral muscles.
“It went perfectly, she bought it hook line and sinker”
“Fantastic. So do tell”
She poured more calm blue shower gel in her hand and studied it whilst it flattened out then she rubbed it over my smooth stomach. She insisted that I was hair free all over my body.
“Well I told her that there was something wrong, something going on with you and me”
More shower gel, this time into my groin area, around my smooth cock and balls.
“I told her that the problem had been coming on for a while and it was really worrying me. I told her that you couldn’t get hard anymore and that the worst thing was that you didn’t seem worried by it. I said that you had lost all of your appetite for sex and I was getting quite beside myself over it”
She was massaging the shower gel into me. What she had told Fleur was evidently not the case at all.
“Do go on” I breathed.
“With the washing or the story?” She asked me.
“Well, both of course”
“I told her I was really worried about you. I said that I didn’t know if I still turned you on… feels like I do…I told her that our sex life had always been superb but there was something going on that I didn’t understand.”
She leant forward and kissed me hard on the lips.
“Mmm, all very good so far”
“With the washing or the story?” She asked me.
“Well, both of course” we laughed together at the joke.
“So I went on and told her that normally you would want me four or five times a week but over the last month or two it has dropped down and now you don’t even come near me for a cuddle. It has just stopped. I even shed a few tears whilst I was there. She took it all in.”
“Of course, the big test will be whether or not she talks to Pol about it” I mused.
“I think she will, they can’t do anything apart, them two” she said.
“Are you enjoying this?” I asked
“The washing or the story?” She smiled as she answered, a bit of humour in her blue grey eyes.
“The game that we are playing with them.”
“Yeah,” she said, “I really like the manipulation but I am not sure if it will work”
She put more shower gel into her hand and continued to wash the same area.
“We will soon see” I added.
She took the shower head down and rinsed my aroused body.
“We will” She said as she sank to her knees.
Pol text messaged me later and we arranged to spar the next day. We arranged to use head guards and boxing gloves so I needed to pop out and get them. He is a big lad so I think a decent head guard would be a must.
20th May 2011
The last four days have been a blur. I haven’t been to the hospital, as a patient, for some years. But I was pretty close to going this time. I am sure that what happened was an accident although it might be that the plan that Ivy and I have put together is working far better than we had anticipated and what happened was on purpose because of this.
On Tuesday Pol came down to ours with Fleur with his sparring kit for our long awaited sparring session in the barn.
We got our stuff on and Ivy and Fleur got themselves a coffee and came in to watch us on the patio furniture they had carried in. I knew that this would turn Ivy on. She would love to see this. They also had the job of time keeping. We were both fit guys so five three minute rounds would be no problem for us.
Round one started and I came out with my guard high and tried to move away from Pol, he is a big guy and he has thick arms and a deep chest. I knew if he hit me I would stay hit. I was faster to the punch every time. My jab was able to take him time after time. He moved stiffly on his ankle and after the steady stream of jabs he had received he started to look out of breath. He managed to get a few shots together later in the round but they were not as hard as I thought that they would be and he seemed not to be too fluent. It surprised me, he seemed normally to have a fluidity and ease to his movement that might have made me feel that he would be better than this.
We came off our chairs for the second round and started pretty much where we left off. I was still more fluent, quicker and able to beat him to the shot. His movement seemed to be easing up and he was relaxing his hands a little and lowering his guard. He was, I thought at that time, starting to tire more. I moved in closer and worked some good body shots in and kept the flow of shots running. Really the alarm bells should have started towards the end of round two when he was able to pat away the jabs I threw. The punches had not got slower, my pace remained the same but his seemed to have improved and he was able to just slip my shots and move tap my punches away with his gloves.
By round three I could feel the volume of the punches I had thrown, my arms were feeling heavy and slow. I knew the sting had gone from my shots but the hand speed was still high. Pol was still moving well, maybe better than he had previously. I tried to use a bit more variety in my shots and worked him to the body and then threw the uppercut in. The body shots hit his arms and elbows and the uppercut slid along the cheek piece of the head guard. It was like I had pressed a switch on him. His whole body shape changed. He pulled his chin in lower, he became much more compact and efficient in movement. I advanced towards him. In the previous rounds as I had advanced he had retired. In this round I advanced and he simply swivelled on his right foot and as I closed he landed two huge punches in my lower ribs with his right hand. One shot straight after another. The wind went from my lungs and I knew I was hurt. My hands went down leaving my head exposed and he hit me square on the chin with a dead straight left hand like a hammer.
I dropped to my knees. I slide down unconscious to the floor. Seconds, minutes I don’t know how long after I was waking with a dull throb in my head. He was crouched over me.
“We were supposed to be sparring, you cunt” he said quietly at a volume only we would be able to hear.
“Are you ok?” He asked me loudly.
“Yeah I am fine” I said. I got to my feet and we went in the house. I showered and got changed. Pol had a coffee with us. He seemed genuinely upset about what had happened in the barn. Fleur was very embarrassed. They soon went home.
Later on that day Pol text messaged me. He asked how I was doing and invited us for a meal the next night by way of apology.
The thing is, I wasn’t fine. I wasn’t fine at all. In them moments whilst I lay on the barn floor unconscious I has an experience, maybe a vision, maybe a dream. I am not quite sure what the best way to describe it might be.
I have read about people that have near death experiences. Out of body experiences they call them. That’s what happened to me. My body hit the floor of the barn as I looked down upon my divorced reality. Limp. Broken. Detached. My head rolled down onto the floor last. I looked in like looking into a scene played out through a window of someone else’s house. Looking in at faces and people I didn’t know. The action was in slow motion. I watched my head hit the floor. The spittle dribble from my mouth and the dust puff up from the concrete floor in the exhalation of the impact.
I watched the dust particles dance in the air and return to the ground in their own time. Pol leant over me. I heard his voice but his lips didn’t move. I then saw him speak he asked if I was ok. As I watched my motionless form on the ground I saw it separate and another me stood up. He rose from my unconscious form that still lay on the floor. He looked at me on the floor then he looked towards where I was watching from. He spoke to me. He spoke without moving his lips, by eye contact or by mind contact.
“I am you, you are me, we are one”
“Who are you?” I asked the other me.
“I am Erebus.”
The dream stopped and I returned to consciousness.
We went up to the Winchesters for supper that night as invited. That’s when it first happened to me.
The meal was curry, venison curry. Pol ate so much venison that he might grow antlers. The food was good. The flavour of the spices nicely complemented the dark and tightly grained meat. We had a few beers but I didn’t really feel too much like drinking.
Pol was chatting away quite normally. He was telling his normal crop of hunting stories. Then he changed tack.
“I am sorry about yesterday” he said to me.
“That’s ok, mate.” I replied “to be fair I had it coming after them shots I had given you”
We both laughed about it and arranged for more sparring.
“He wanted to hurt you” Erebus’ voice appeared, unwelcome, into my hearing. I looked at the others. No one else could hear him.
I thought “No, not at all. I asked for it”
“No, that’s bollocks, look at the smug twat, he is gloating. He thinks you are fucking his wife”
Erebus’ comments threw me off balance a little.
“Are you ok?” asked Pol. He must have noticed the distraction.
“Cunt” said Erebus in my mind.
“Sorry, I don’t feel so good” I said. Desperation crept over me like mould. It is not a feeling I know. I am always in control. But I can’t control Erebus. He could do and say what he wanted, when he wanted. I need to get away from here. I need to go home to somewhere comfortable and safe. Somewhere I can be in control.
“Ivy, I don’t feel so good, I have some disturbed vision. Let’s go home”
“No problem Love, can you walk that far?” She asked.
“Yeah, no problem, the fresh air might do some good anyway” I replied.
The voice entered my consciousness again. The voice of Erebus. “She was right what she sad to her friends, she is right what she thinks, you are a pussy”
It had been years since I had suffered with migraine but this would be the excuse that I would use to get home.
We arrived home a little later. Ivy asked if I was ok. I assured her I was but I was sick of the company of Pol. I told her that after he had knocked me out I felt he was just taking the piss out of me. I didn’t tell her about Erebus talking to me.
“Hey sexy, come to bed” She called down to me. Time had got on and I had been enjoying a quiet coffee. No disturbance. No voices.
“Yeah, just coming”. I turned the computer off and locked the door. I went upstairs and into the bedroom. The lights were down and there were candles lit around the room. She had a DVD of a fire place on the big screen. The bed was covered in red velvet cushions. This boudoir look was for me. She was wearing my favourite basque in red and black with stockings. The light was low and the room warm. Incense sticks burned and added to the sensuous feel to the room.
I stripped off and stood with my freshly waxed, smooth body waiting for her. I looked down. My cock would normally be bursting with this scene in front of me. My erection had failed. This was the first time in my life. What was wrong with me?
“Mmm” she said “Looks like I have to do some persuasion here”
She knelt in front of me and took me in her mouth.
“She always wanted you to be tough, show her tough love. Make her scream, she will love it”
I grabbed her hard by the hair and yanked her head back hard. I saw the surprise in her eyes. I saw the arousement in her.
“Tell her you are going to make her your fucking whore”
“I am going to make you my fuck whore” I growled and pulled her hair back so her mouth was wide open. My erection had instantly returned, harder, bigger angrier than ever.
“See how much she loves to be mastered, you are going to need to show this bitch who is the man in this deal”
Later she slept. I had hit her, slapped her, bit her. She had orgasmed over and over again. Afterwards she cuddled me and told me she loved me. The heights she had reached I had never seen before. I felt empty, hollow, blasted and damned. How could she say those things when I had been hitting her hard just a few minutes before? He had bit her breasts so hard they had bled. I felt like a rapist might feel when overwhelmed by the reality of what they had done. Never in my life had I felt like this.
I went to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet in the dark. The darkness around me was pure and all overwhelming. There was no sign of the tendrils of the coming day closing in to rescue me from the mire of my gloom. I wept. Where was Erebus now? His voice was in my head the whole time that I beat and fucked Ivy. Now he is quiet leaving me with the mess I have made in my mind to clear up. I placed my head in my hands and wept silently. I felt the tears, unknown to me, burn as they pricked their way from my eyes and rolled down my wrists, they made a small pool in the hollows of my tendons and then they dripped onto the floor. They soaked into the mat and were gone as if they never existed. I tried hard to remember the intensity of the climax that we had shared but it was always soiled by the voice of Erebus I my head. I couldn’t face the reality of what I had done. This was not what I was about. I loved Ivy as I had never loved in my life and now I had hurt her. Time passed. I returned to the bedroom just as the grey of the new day seeped round the curtain and started to pool on the floor of the room. I settled to a deep and dreamless sleep for the next few hours.
It was late when I was woken by Ivy. She came into the room quietly and spoke to me.
“Jan, I have done you breakfast in bed”
“Mmm, thank you, that’s nice”
I looked at the tray and she had made scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and cracked black pepper on wholemeal toast. She had never made me breakfast in bed before. She bent forward and kissed me. She seemed warm and affectionate towards me.
“You listen to me and I will steer you in the right direction, this bitch worships you now she knows who the boss is. Smoked salmon for breakfast, yeah, this is how it will be from now on.”
“You see that mark on her tit? Well that’s how she knows she belongs to you”
I looked up and I could see the bruise on her breast. I felt ashamed by what I had done, what had happened. She did know now who was in the driving seat. Things had changed around here and they were not ever going to go back to how they were.
“What do you want to do today, honey?” She asked me.
“Tell her what you want her to do, she is yours”
“After training and when you have got this shithole sorted out then I might do something”
The house wasn’t a shithole at all. But she responded well to this and straight away went to work in the kitchen. She chose to pick us a bristle scrubbing brush to scrub the floors in the hall way. She didn’t pick up the modern steam cleaner for the job. She got onto her knees and scrubbed.
“Fuck yeah, look at her arse as she scrubs, dirty bitch, we can take her later. Yeah not take her out, we’ll take her arse”
“Give it a rest Erebus,”
“I am you, you are me… remember? You can’t just switch me off” My voice and his voice merged into one stream of laughter in my head.
I pulled on my running kit and trainers, it would be nice to be on my own again and out on the road. Some peace would be nice. I left my I-pod on the work top. No music, just the sound of hard miles under foot.
I loved these spring mornings, clear skies, not too hot. Lovely weather for training and I really meant to take advantage of the weather today. A nice long but steady run would be superb today. I stood in the yard and stretched my calves. My mind was filled with the events of the last few days. The desolation of the darkest watch of the night returned to me. When I had cried on the toilet. Cried for my loss, cried for my gain. I stretched up through my hamstrings and felt the sting of my tears again. It couldn’t happen more. I would rather not have her than put her through that again. I would keep him at bay. “Yeah right… we are one”
I worked my quadriceps, I savoured the stretch, the burn scourged the voice away. That old familiar pain was a reassurance that I still existed. “Yeah, we do”
I started on the run. I knew that once I got into the pace and the zone my mind would go blank and I could pound out the miles end on end. I enjoyed the cold fresh air filling my lungs and coursing through my system. I climbed out of the valley up the road past the Winchesters house and into the sunshine. The mist still lingered over Y Dyffryn Tywyll. “Pol is a cunt”
I ran on up the single track road and headed round the normal five mile circuit.
“Push harder, you fucking pussy, take the path over the mountain, go past the mines, you know the way”
I got to the crossroads. The path went on up the mountain, the road curved back towards the town and towards home. The path was rough and still muddy, initially it climbed high over the ridgeline but then I knew it would descend in to the deep valley and in to the cold and mist towards the house. It would be the end of the easy running road.
“What are you waiting for? Do it”
I set off on the path. It climbed hard and I pushed up the hill. I felt the pain in my thighs as the lactic acid built up. I would soon drop down to be at the old mine workings. That would be a great chance to power out some reps on the spoil heaps.
I got to the bottom of one of the spoil heaps. And took a breather, the exercise I was about to do was purely anaerobic. I wanted to charge my muscles for the hard work that was to follow. This few seconds of blissful peaceful rest was shattered with a harsh voice shouting angrily at me.
“Oi, what the fuck are you doing here?”
“Just out training mate” I replied trying to avert a confrontation.
This is my land, you can’t just go where you want?” The young farmer came down towards me. He looked angry, his chest was blown out and his face was red and his fists clenched.
“Come on then”
Erebus’s voice came out of my mouth.
“We are one”
The farmer was a big strong looking young man, maybe twenty years younger than me. He walked up to my face.
As he came up to us I saw the chance I was waiting for. His eyes just looked to the ground for a second. I punched him hard in the throat with a powerful jab in the Adam’s apple he fell to the floor grasping his throat. He pulled at the collar of this check shirt. But no matter how much he loosened that he could not ease the constriction the crushed wind pipe had caused. I laughed so hard.
I was horrified at what had happened. I had not planned for this to happen. I could hear and feel the laughter in my voice and in my head. I looked down at the man. I could save him with a tracheostomy. I saw he had a knife pouch on his belt.
I picked up a fucking great big chunk of grey slate from the ground. They lay all around. The one I picked up was two feet long and about ten inches across it must have weighed twenty or thirty pounds. I threw it down onto the farmers face. The impact made a crunching sound. He kicked his legs out straight and as I watched him subside a large dark patch appeared on his trousers as his bladder let go of its contents. That will teach the bastard to mess with us. I looked down and rolled the stone from his face.
His face was smashed and horrific, this was not like the clean treatments I was so used to. Bone shards and brain lay on the ground all around. I was shocked by what had happened what we had done. I had pretty much escaped any blood spatters but I knew there would be some very fine droplets on my trainers and shorts.
I ran on. I followed the path down into the valley to the river. It was upstream of the house and I jumped into a small pool in the river to remove the blood from my clothes and from me. I needed to get clean and get myself cleansed before I got home.
Yeah, we will leave the fucker out there on the hill, let the buzzards and ravens have their fill. He doesn’t deserve to be buried nicely. Let them eat his face off.