A Spirit's Touch

Twenty-Four. Revelations In 1967 🔞

Yes, we are returning to that homophobic period of the sixties. Please do not be offended by some of the language used here. I write to what's fitting of the time period.

There are disturbing themes in this chapter regarding language, sexual assault and detailed death. You have been warned...

Enjoy :-)

When Lyle eventually came around he was lying in a hospital bed. His head was pounding with an immense migraine but he was grateful to be alive and could not wait to get home. He tried to place his hands to his forehead but found his right arm was cuffed, securing him to the frame of the bed.

"Mr Watkins, glad to see you are awake and looking healthy," came the voice of a very stern individual.

Lyle looked blurry eyed towards the door and saw the shapes of two uniformed police men looking down at him.

The officer continued, "If you are feeling up for it we would like to ask you a few questions regarding the incident two nights ago."

"Lyle rubbed his head with his left hand, "Two nights ago you say?"

"That is correct, young man," the second officer replied.

"What happened at Julie Sumner's house?" The first officer asked.

"Don, he was there," Lyle said shakily.

"Before Don arrived, we would like to know your version of events. Why were you at Miss Sumner's property?"

"I- I wasn't at Julie's house. I tried to call her, to warn her. Is she ok?"

"Miss Sumner is in bad shape but she will survive. Thanks to the actions of Mr Travis we were able to save her before it was too late."

"Don Travis was the one that hurt her!" Lyle protested angrily.

"That's not the statement of events we received from Mr Travis," the second officer spoke up. He lifted the first page of his notebook book. "Mr Travis stopped a jealous faggot from murdering Miss Sumner because Mr Travis rejected the advances of buggery and somehow the aggressor, that's you, Mr Watkins, blamed an innocent bystander, Miss Sumner."

"That's not what happened at all! Don is a liar!"

The officer continued, "Mr Travis tracked you down several streets back to your apartment where you were waiting to bludgeon him, in which your attempts failed.

"Fuck off, that's not what happened!"

"Calm down, Mr Watkins. You are in enough trouble already. Do not make it worse for yourself. As soon as the doctor gives the go ahead, your rights will be read and you'll be brought to the station for questioning."

Lyle pulled at the handcuffs holding him to the bed.

The other officer spoke up once more, "Relax, Mr Watkins. We will take your statement as evidence."

"We will of course, but this all appears to be a very open-shut case," the first officer replied.

"Sergeant Travis, have you got a moment?" The voice was distant but clear enough for Lyle to just make out the words.

"Excuse me, keep an eye on the poof," Sergeant Travis, the first officer said. He left the room without another word.

"Hey, this isn't fair!" Lyle shouted as loud as his pounding head would allow.

"That's enough, Mr Watkins," the remaining officer said firmly.

Lyle threw himself back against the hard mattress of the hospital bed. "I want to see a solicitor."

"One will be provided to accompany you at the station when the time is required. Until then, please be quiet and patient until this can be dealt with using the proper jurisdiction."

***

Four days later, Julie now discharged from the hospital, returned to her small home in Loughborough. The police wanted to question her further and believed she was still concussed and dillusional after her statement claimed Don Travis was the real aggressor.

Julie had one night to get herself sorted before a police mandatory visit was expected in the morning.

There were flowers left on her doorstep from various previous gentlemen callers, including a bunch from Don himself.

"Some nerve," she hissed before throwing them all down onto the kitchen worktop. As she passed through the front room she tried to ignore the damaged furniture and the wreckage that Don caused last time he was in the house with her.

She trembled at the sudden image of him grabbing her hair and throwing her head first into the book case that now lay in ruins.

After managing to eat something at the hospital, Julie wanted nothing more than to soak in the shower and go to bed.

Julie sat on the edge of the bed drying herself when she heard a disturbing noise coming from down the stairs. She froze and stared at the open door, was someone in the house?

As if on cue the light dimmed and failed, leaving Julie in darkness. She panicked but put on a brave front. If this was just another power outage she was not going to let it scare her tonight.

Julie felt dry enough to quickly throw on a t-shirt and jeans before edging to the threshold and quietly peering round the frame to see if anyone was at the bottom of the stairs.

Descending slowly, Julie stepped into the front room, it looked clear in the dim light of the moon. The light switch did not work, Bloody power cuts, she cursed in her mind. It was getting late and she wanted sleep. She turned around and was about to go back up stairs to bed.

She screamed a terrifying screech as a hand grabbed a clump of her hair and pulled backwards. Julie tried to turn around to meet her attacker but was immediately punched in the face with a well aimed hook.

Having not recovered from her previous injuries Julie fell straight to the floor from the blow. She could feel hands begin clawing at her jeans, pulling them away from her.

"This is from Donny, you whore," the masculine voice of her attacker hissed in her ear.

Julie lay motionless as her unknown attacker abused her already sore vagina with his manhood.

"Say something, bitch!" Another blow, this time to the side of her skull.

Julie felt numb and unmotivated to fight back. She was hoping the stranger would have his fun and leave her alone. The police would help her better in the morning.

However, it became apparent the man was not there just to assault her. Julie suddenly felt hands around her throat and begin squeezing. Her body instinctively began trying to fight back. She lashed out punches towards her attacker but he was far too strong.

With tears filling her eyes, Julie began scratching and clawing at the man's face. She ripped a chunk of skin from his cheek but it was already too late. The fight was lost. Her arms dropped and her body twerked as the last remaining breaths and the life in her eyes faded. Julie passed away while being viciously attacked in her own home. Her attacker pulled out of her and finished masturbating into some tissues which he then pocketed for disposal later. He gave Julie one final look before leaving.

***

Word count- 27738

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