“Could you help me please?”
His mum had instilled in him the virtue of always helping people. But the alley?
The girl had a lovely smile, said,
“I dropped my mobile in there and I’m afraid to look for it by my own self.”
Bruce Willis would help.
He entered the alley and immediately got a ferocious wallop to the back of his neck. Two young men stood over him, the girl right in front, She said,
“Chocolates. Oh, I so love sweetness.”
Tom was getting to his feet, dizzy but still able to stand, protested, “Those are for me mum.”
One of the young men, with a livid fresh scar, lashed out with his Doc Marten, smashing Tom’s teeth, and the other asked,
“Oh, did that hurt?”
And delivered a ferocious kick to Tom’s crotch.
Tom threw up all over the girl’s boots. She said,
“Jesus wept, I just cleaned them.”
Tom was on his knees, still retching, and the girl knelt down to his level, asked,
“You wanna go home to your momma, that it?”
He muttered miserably and the girl said, “But the chocolates, we can’t waste them.”
One of the men grabbed Tom’s head and forced open his mouth, the girl ripped open the cellophane, grabbed a fistful of the sweets and shoved them into his mouth. Then she produced a knife, Tom knew it as a Stanley from work, and she said,
“Little trouble digesting all of them you greedy boy, let me help you.”
And slit his throat in one practiced movement. The other man took the box of Dairy Milk, scattered the remains over Tom’s falling body, said,