The Broken III: Control Read online

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  © Copyright 2020

  A.L Frances

  The right of A.L Frances to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All Rights Reserved

  No reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication may be made without written permission. No paragraph of this publication may be reproduced, copied or transmitted save with the written permission of the publisher, or in accordance with the provisions of the Copyright Act 1956 (as amended).

  Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the American/British Library.

  ISBN 978-0-9601051-2-0 (paperback)

  ISBN 978-0-9601051-5-1 (ebook)

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Amazon is an imprint of Ruby Rose Publishing House.

  www.RubyRosePublishingHouse.com

  First Published in 2020

  Amazon

  Printed & Bound in Great Britain

  Author’s Note

  My purpose for writing the series of The Broken novels extends above and beyond just wanting to write a gripping close to home story.

  On occasions, I’ve picked up books and been unable to visualize what the writer has so beautifully written for me. Then, when I’ve found a book I’ve loved and read it to the end, the sense of achievement is immeasurable. I believe everyone should embrace this emotion when they read.

  My desire is for you to feel just as wonderful when you reach the end of this novel, as I’ve written this wholeheartedly for you!

  Dedication

  I wrote this for you…

  A. L. Frances

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1: Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

  Chapter 2: Protection

  Chapter 3: Where Are They?

  Chapter 4: Hello Honey

  Chapter 5: The Smirk

  Chapter 6: I’m Ready!

  Chapter 7: The Surprise Call

  Chapter 8: The Whisper

  Chapter 9: The Invitation

  Chapter 10: You Knew Your Fate

  Chapter 11: One Image Can Change Everything

  Chapter 12: Revenge

  Chapter 13: Night Terrors

  Chapter 14: Almost…

  Chapter 15: I Killed Them

  Chapter 16: The Clock is Ticking

  Chapter 17: Too Close to Home

  Chapter 18: Temimi

  Chapter 19: Sweet Dreams. Sleep Tight

  Chapter 20: Kill Her

  Chapter 21: I will not let you down

  Chapter 22: So Close

  Chapter 23: The Day of Reckoning Has Arrived

  Prologue

  The predator and the prey scenario. A cycle of life and death. A cycle that takes place during the fast-paced motion of the day and equally throughout the deathly silence of the night, the strong hunting the weak. Although, it must be noted, no one is untouchable in this world. The predator can also become the prey. This dangerous cycle can change at any given moment and the strong can just as easily become the weak. Let it be known, there isn’t a single soul that is safe from the hunt.

  We’re all susceptible to having our minds corrupted and becoming someone else’s target. Other people will own tiny parts of our thoughts throughout our lifetime in one way or another, and the saddest part is that we, as individuals, aren’t even aware of it. We believe we have total control over ourselves, we believe we are the masters of our minds, when in fact, we don’t see the external response or even recognise the internal split-second rush of anxiety we experience when these influential people arrive in our presence, the superiors so to speak, the ones we each – “answer to”. Whether it’s a relationship with a spouse, your children or other family member, a barking employer, colleague or part of our ever-growing demanding clientele, the list of individuals who actually have the ability to control and cast some form of influence over our thoughts is endless.

  Just think about it for a second: we all have to answer to someone. No matter how stubborn or strong we believe we are, that person owns a section of our mind, and, let’s face it, if we can allow them to gain such a substantial amount of power and control over us then what’s to stop another from gaining the same?

  Think of this: what do you believe your stance in life is? Who do you consider yourself to be? Well, no matter what you consider your status to be, you are, in some way, controlled by another. Remember, there isn’t a single mind on this planet that remains untouchable.

  We’re raised by people older than us and spend years being dictated to. These elders train our minds and program us. We are taught that respect is to obey our superiors. We are consistently told what we can and cannot do – told how we should behave, what language to speak, how to think and even told what foods to like and dislike. We believe this level of order and higher ranking goes away when we hit adulthood. Oh, how wrong are we! This susceptibility to control sits deep within us. So, now you’ve worked that out as an adult, answer me this: how vulnerable do you feel?

  Based on that answer, now try to imagine how vulnerable our young must feel… the untrained minds of children. We’ve all been there. We were all but young children once. We’re all aware of how easy it was during our childhood for someone to come along and lure our minds away. We were innocent, we were vulnerable, we believed what we were told and maybe, just maybe, those elders abused that position and control. The ones who were supposed to protect us… and yet they left us.

  Not every child in the world is loved by their biological parents. These same vulnerable children don’t have a warm home, or protection from a loved one; they remain wide open to being controlled by another, and it’s not always in the right way. These vulnerable young individuals have a voice but are never heard. These are the predator’s favourite kind of minds. But once they are controlled, can they be saved? Can the mind be retrained? Can we free the prey? Can we change the cycle?

  There is one man who will stop at nothing to free the mind of his daughter, even if this brings him to his death. With more willpower than ever, this determined individual now has help. No longer doubted, no longer labelled a mad man and a murdering scumbag, Matthew Honey has a team ready to assist him with hunting the unknown. But, even with this help, the question remains: since the predator who has full control over his daughter’s soul has slipped the net for a second time, where will Matthew begin…?

  Chapter 1

  Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

  Positioned in the heart of South Manchester, Southern Cemetery is the final resting place for most of Greater Manchester’s dearly departed. Some call it the land of the dead – others, the land of the loved. A home to many and a place of comfort to most.

  It’s a hot midsummer’s morning and the trees are blowing gently as the breeze hits. The grass is a radiant shade of green, and the sky is the brightest of blues. The clouds are few and far between. The grounds of the cemetery are extremely busy, with cars and people crowding the space. The day might be beautiful, but the atmosphere is tense. The people are quiet and still, with tissues in their hands and blotches on their faces. Each attendee is here for the same purpose. They’re here to pay their respects and say goodbye to a loved one.

  Standing tall and positioned deep into the grounds of the cemetery is one of the four exquisitely constructed chapels. Built with magnificently crafted, stained-glass windows the building is astonishing from the outside and equally as breath-taking on the inside. At centre stage inside, the main focus of the room are two huge, floor length, deep red, velvet curtains which are currently drawn.

  Standing by the doorway, the family members of the dearly departed are getting ready for the hardest day of their lives. The final farewell.

  “Florence, I’m so sorry for your loss, dear. Dorothy was one of the kindest women I’ve ever known. Your sister will be missed. As for poor Alice – I have no words. Just know that we are all here for you.”

  “Thank you, Doris.”

  Hugging Florence, Doris makes her way into the chapel to lay the bouquet of flowers she has in her hand. Greeting the next person, Florence tries her hardest to remain strong. She never in her life believed she would be attending her younger sister’s funeral and most certainly not her niece’s.

  “Thank you for coming, Stephen.”

  “Florence, how are you holding up?”

  “About as well as can be.”

  The guests are arriving thick and fast. The sun beams in through the chapel windows, creating a radiant glow and illuminating the space. Unfortunately for those attending today’s service, the sun’s also radiating an intense amount of heat and the chapel’s temperature is becoming somewhat unbearable.

  Today’s ceremony is somewhat of a rarity: a double cremation. The service is about to start as groups of people of various ages, dressed from head to toe in black, begin walking down the aisle. Taking their seats in silence, the attendees gree
t each other with nods and sympathetic smiles.

  At the front of the chapel stands the widow of one of the deceased, Phil Parkinson. His eyes are bright red and swollen from all the tears he’s shed. Phil’s struggling to hold it together. He couldn’t face standing at the door to greet people. He has no desire to speak to a single person. He just wants to say goodbye to his wife. This broken man has lost not only his soulmate, he has also lost all five of his children. A man who once had it all now has nothing!

  Everyone he knows turned their backs on him when they found out that he faked his own death. Alice never cashed in the insurance claims and the investments, so no crime was committed, but what Phil did was way worse. He committed the ultimate sin – he left his family vulnerable to the predators that scavenge amongst us. And in return, he has paid the ultimate price! The loss of it all.

  With no one to turn to, Phil has leaned on one particular person for support. An individual he has known for only a matter of weeks, and yet he finds himself bearing his heart and soul to this man.

  Sitting at the side of Phil Parkinson, trying his hardest not to freak out and run a million miles, is Matthew Honey. He’s fidgeting in his seat; his palms are sweating and he’s becoming more and more agitated by the second. Matthew has absolutely no desire to deal with this sad event while sober. Breathing deeply, he’s desperately trying to hold it together for Phil, but he’s genuinely struggling. This devastating occasion sits too close to his own personal life. The flashbacks are coming thick and fast and are making him feel sick to his stomach. Attempting to distract himself, Matthew begins fiddling with the order of service booklet, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

  The time is now ten thirty in the morning on the twenty-seventh of July. As the final few people arrive, two family members close the huge solid-oak doors. Almost immediately, the curtains at the front begin to open.

  Positioned on the podium are two solid, dark-oak coffins. The final resting place for mother and daughter. Inside one of the beautifully crafted wooden boxes on pure white cushioned silk is the body of Alice Parkinson. And in the other, the body of her mother, Dorothy Davies.

  “Why? Oh God, Alice! Why my Alice?” Phil cries out, with tears streaming down his face and fluid gushing uncontrollably from his nose, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, my queen.” Looking to Matthew, he screams, “What the fuck, man? What the fuck? What – the – fuck?”

  Attempting to be strong, Matthew reaches across to his friend and places his hand on his shoulder. He whispers in his ear, “Phil, I’m here. Come on, you can do this. Be strong for everyone here.”

  “Fuck it. Be strong? That’s my fucking queen in that box. Alice, baby, I’m sorry!”

  Seeing that the Reverend has appeared and aware the service is about to start, Matthew attempts to calm Phil down one final time. “Look around you. All these people are here to pay their respects to Alice and Dorothy. Allow them this.” Seeing Phil calm slightly, Matthew continues, “There are children here. They’re getting scared. Just hold it together.”

  At these words, Phil appears to gain some control. Matthew looks over his shoulder, scanning the chapel. There’s a sea of people all crying silently. His heart begins to race at a hundred miles per hour. Holding his chest, Matthew breathes deeply and closes his eyes. He’s trying not to have a panic attack. Suddenly an image of Alice swinging from a rope flashes at the forefront of his mind. Rapidly opening his eyes, Matthew puts his hand to his mouth to hold in the vomit that has shot up from his stomach.

  The reverend takes her place at the front of the chapel. With her shoulders back and her head held high, she begins, “Today’s service is one of great sadness. Both mother and daughter are no longer with us in body form, but may I remind each of you that they are present with us in spirit today.”

  A child shouts from the back, “Mummy, why is Auntie Alice’s picture up there?”

  “Carlos, shhh, darling, mummy will tell you later.”

  “But wh…”

  “Sweetie, please be quiet, the lady is speaking.”

  Hearing this innocent child’s voice sets a shiver up Matthew’s spine. His thoughts go to Phil’s five missing children. He hopes the reverend won’t mention them.

  The reverend clears her throat and continues, “I apologise about that. The family of Alice and Dorothy would like to thank you all for being here today. Now, on your seats you will see that you each have a book which contains the order of service today. Please feel free to collect this now. And might I suggest that since the chapel is somewhat overcrowded today, perhaps you’d be kind enough to share with those next to you and pass some back.”

  She waits a brief moment for everyone to get settled before proceeding, “The first part of today’s service is remembrance. Please, let us bow our heads while we take a moment to remember Alice and Dorothy. Think of those moments that will comfort you in times of need. The memories you shared, the laughter, the joy, the smiles and all the bits in between. Let’s take some time to reflect on those special moments. For this part of the service, the family have selected a song for us to listen to as we embrace these dear memories.”

  As the music starts, Phil places his head in his hands. He’s sobbing louder and louder. The song that’s playing has deep meaning. It was played during his first dance with his wife at their wedding. Every person in the room has their eyes closed as the tears slowly trickle down their faces.

  With his chest getting tighter and tighter, Matthew can’t bear it anymore. Looking to the podium he sees sunflowers galore. He sees a picture of his wife and his wife’s coffin on the stand. He becomes dizzy and delirious, his head starting to spin. His mind is projecting his wife’s funeral, “Lauren…” he whispers.

  He looks around the room, but he can barely see what’s in front of him. His sight has gone completely hazy. The loss of his vision makes Matthew feel claustrophobic. His hand goes to his throat – he’s struggling to breathe. Looking at the masses of bodies all dressed in black, Matthew decides he needs some space and fresh air.

  “Mate, you okay…?” Phil asks, turning to face him.

  As Phil’s voice echoes around his mind, Matthew stands. He slowly manages to stagger his way through the crowd of people and heads towards the exit. He has completely lost all control and feels weak. As he tries to open the door, Matthew collapses. He bangs his head on the way down and vomits on the floor. He lands flat on his back and begins convulsing. The whole room gasps and people rush from all directions to Matthew’s aid. But he’s out cold. His eyes are closed, and he’s locked deep within his mind.

  “Hello?” Matthew says. He’s surrounded by darkness.

  He gets no reply. The only sound he can hear is the echoes of his own voice. And yet, this unfortunate situation feels all too familiar to him. He doesn’t like it one bit. Scanning his surroundings, Matthew sees a beam of light appearing in the distance. It gets brighter and brighter, slowly blinding him. Raising his arm to protect his sight, he squints as he tries to make out what’s creating this light. He smells a sweet scent. The scent is familiar. Alongside this, Matthew hears a gentle humming. Focusing his attention on the light, he suddenly sees a female figure making her way towards him.

  Reaching out his arms, he shouts, “Eve… it’s you! Darling, come here to me. I want to save you.”

  The figure floats closer to him and he sees his daughter is cradling a baby in a blanket. Struggling up onto his feet, Matthew continues, “Eve, is that Hope? Quickly, princess, come to me. I can save you both before she comes back.”

  “Save her, Dad,” Eve shouts, running towards him. She throws the baby in the blanket to him.

  “Eve, keep running! I can save you!” Matthew shouts.

  As the words leave his mouth, Matthew throws himself forward. He’s soaking wet from head to toe. Looking around, he realises he is on a hospital stretcher inside the back of an ambulance. There is a female paramedic in the ambulance with her back to him. Panicking, he starts to pull the wires off his body. Hearing the bleeping, the paramedic turns around.