Pact (standard:horror, 2455 words)
Author: Lev821	Added: Mar 22 2010	Views/Reads: 3063/2128	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A suicide pact is about to reveal the answer to one of science's mysteries.

Turning the key in the garage door, there was a satisfying click as it
locked. His left hand held a claw hammer which was swung at it. It took 
three swipes to break the key. He nodded in satisfaction. “There, now 
we're locked in,” he said, dropping the tool, then turning and walking 
across to a full-length Hanoi mirror, leaning against a drawer chest. 
In its reflection he could see the object of his disgust, Kenneth May, 
sitting on a rickety wooden chair, smoking a cigarette. “I'm beginning 
to wonder about your enthusiasm for this,” said George Howell, turning 
around to look at him. “It's too late now to back out, and you said 
you'd go through with it, remember?” “I know” said Kenneth, “You can't 
blame me for being a little hesitant”. George turned back to the mirror 
and straightened his bow-tie. He wore a cream-coloured pinstripe suit 
with silver cufflinks. “Yes, I suppose so,” he said, admiring himself. 
George was 56, overweight, balding, and had rather too many premature 
wrinkles, making him look as though he was approaching seventy. He and 
Kenneth were now locked inside George's fairly spacious garage. 
Spacious enough for two cars to park side-by-side. There were two 
counters and three cupboards, and tools all over the place, with pieces 
of wood and metallic innards from various contraptions scattered around 
as well. His hobby was D.I.Y, and had been for the past 30 years. While 
there were no cars parked parallel, there were however, two 
constructions that George had built. “Is it nearly time for us to die?” 
said Kenneth, crushing the cigarette stub out under his white trainer. 
George nodded. “Yes, it is,” he said, looking at the contraptions in 
the mirror. He turned to look at them, admiring his handy work. 

Using the internet, and illustrated history books, George had made two
eleven-foot tall guillotines, fully functional. He was however, 
concerned that the weight of the steel blade would not be enough to cut 
off his head. He feared that more than dying, but was fairly certain 
that it would be fine, because if it didn't cut his head clean off, his 
experiment would fail. 

Kenneth stood up, and looked at the guillotines with trepidation. George
walked across to him and held out his hand. “We made a pact remember? 
we'd die together”. “I know,” said Kenneth, shaking his hand. “Why I am 
shaking your hand I do not know. Is this the hand that killed my wife 
and children?” Kenneth didn't answer, just ran a hand through his hair 
and sighed with despair. 

Four years earlier, Kenneth, at 26 was working for a chain of wine bars.
He knew the owner and his friends so was quite high up in its minor 
hierarchy. These friends were not necessarily of a law-abiding nature. 
The bars were built from drug-money, yet gave the façade that 
everything was above board, and not corrupt, but of course, behind the 
scenes there always seemed to be dealings and sales and dishonest 
handshakes and people who displayed their wealth like an amateurish 
gangster spending his money, joining the legion of them whom it was 
immediately obvious that they could not be trusted. Simply by their 
mannerisms, their appearance, an instant judgement could be made of 
them as to whether or not they could be trusted. Gangsters and 
criminals sometimes made it so obvious they were on the wrong side of 
the law, and Kenneth was no exception. With his shaven head, his gold 
rings, his Christian Dior sunglasses, and Audi Quattro, he may as well 
have sign-posted himself as somebody whom you could not trust. In his 
capacity as a nearly-gangster, he acquired a ‘gold-digger', a woman for 
whom the lifestyle was attractive. They loved to have the money 
splashed over them and tolerated her other half's moods and activities. 
It always seemed obvious that they cared more for the lavish way of 
living than the one who was doing the spending, because when she caught 
the eye of George Howell, she left Kenneth without a second thought. 
Kenneth however, was smitten. He was giving serious thoughts to 
becoming straight, or straighter than he was by buying an engagement 
ring for Phillipa. He was intending to walk her down to a canal side 
where it was fairly quiet, and ask her to marry him. He had decided to 
get down on bended knee, and didn't want his friends to see him, so on 
the day he was to ask, he found he couldn't contact her, and didn't 
know where she was. Later in the evening he received a text message: 
‘Sorry honey. Found another man. See ya'. That was it. One and a half 
years and she dropped him in a heartbeat. After that, he was not a nice 
person to be around. Not that he ever was, but he sank into a 
melancholic mood that only got progressively worse. 

Two weeks passed by before he saw her again, in the window of a
Malaysian restaurant, being friendly and happy with a man who could 


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