ASBO: A Novel of Extreme Terror

“There,” said Frankie. “The mood is set. Bring ‘em in, lads.”


Dom and Jordan entered the room, dragging Andrew and Bex along the floor. Andrew had woken slightly since Dom had struck him in the back of the head, but was still pretty much out of it, eyes swirling around in their sockets unable to focus.

“Get him up onto the armchair,” said Frankie. “Come on, come on!”

Dom and Jordan hoisted Andrew up onto the armchair and propped up his head which kept sagging against his chest.

“Where’s the tape?” asked Frankie. His twitch was acting up and his voice quivered as his lip did the same.

Dom and Jordan both shrugged in unison, making the fact that they were twins seem like a weird double-act. “Think Shell has it,” said Jordan.

Frankie shook his head and cursed beneath his breath. Then he shouted. “Michelle, get your skinny ass in here.”

It was a couple of minutes before she appeared, but when she did Davie saw that she did indeed have the thick roll of silver duct tape in her hand.

Frankie snatched it from her. “What the hell were you doing?”

Michelle shrugged her bony shoulders. “Just having a look around. There’s some nice shit in the girl’s room. Look!” She held up her right hand, which now sported a shiny gem on the ring finger. “Bet it belonged to her Nan or something. Sad bitch keeps a diary too; had a quick read and it was hilarious. Says she’s still afraid of the dark.”

“Very nice,” said Frankie in a way that made it clear that he couldn’t care less. He turned to Andrew and pointed. “Dom, get this fucker strapped up. I want him to be nice and comfortable when we get the party started. He’ll have the best seat in the house.”

Davie sat silently on the sofa, wondering what his brother meant by that. He had a feeling that whatever he thought would not be as bad as whatever Frankie actually had in mind. In a competition for sickest imagination, Davie’s big brother would win every time.

Dom finished taping up Andrew just as he started to stir from unconsciousness. A thin stream of drool fell from his mouth and pooled on the tape that secured his midsection to the chair.

“Wakey wakey, rise and shine,” said Frankie, laughing at himself afterwards. “I was wondering if Dom had ended you with the smack he gave you. Glad he didn’t, though, as this will be a whole lot more fun with you alive.”

Andrew managed to lift his head and look Frankie in the eyes. “W-what…are you going to do?”

Frankie leant forward so that his eye-line matched Andrew’s own. “Tell the truth I haven’t decided yet. Don’t you worry, though. It’s going to be a good crack.”

Andrew’s wife whimpered and Davie patted her on the back again to quiet her down. Fortunately it worked and Frankie didn’t notice.

Andrew spoke again, seeming to regain more consciousness. “Why are you doing this to us, you…you monster?”

“Not us,” said Frankie. “I’m doing this to you. The ladies are just unfortunate victims, unfortunate to be involved with you. Collateral damage, is that what they say?”

“So why…are you doing this to me?”

Frankie shrugged. “Just bad luck for you, I guess.”

Andrew shook his head and another sliver of drool escaped his mouth. “There must be a reason.”

Frankie swung his arm and struck Andrew in his ribs. His wife cried out, while he cried inwards, sucking in a breath and finding himself unable to let it out again. Frankie grabbed a bunch of his hair and lifted his head to face him. “Maybe I just don‘t like your fuckin’ face.”

“Leave him alone,” Andrew’s wife screamed before Davie had chance to stop her.

Frankie turned to her. “Or else what, bitch?”

“You’re nothing but a pathetic bully.”

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