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    Payback: Short Story
    Payback: Short Story
    Payback: Short Story
    Ebook54 pages50 minutes

    Payback: Short Story

    By James Loscombe

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    About this ebook

    Bored and seeking thrills during his suspension from boarding school, Walter takes his recklessness too far. Shunned by his friends and saddled with an unwanted dog named Darla, Walter spirals into anger and bitterness. His cruel acts of vengeance soon backfire in shocking and disturbing ways.

     

    When Darla goes missing, Walter must face the horrific consequences of his actions. He discovers too late that some victims bite back. Hard.

     

    Payback is a chilling tale of a troubled teen who pushes the limits too far. His escalating acts of cruelty unleash a terrifying wave of revenge that teaches Walter a lesson he won't soon forget.

     

    This twisted psychological horror story blurs the line between victim and villain. It's a disturbing rollercoaster ride that will make you think twice before seeking retribution. Payback serves up justice when you least expect it.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJRV Press
    Release dateJan 15, 2019
    ISBN9781386509806
    Payback: Short Story
    Author

    James Loscombe

    James Loscombe has been publishing under various pen names for the last five years. He lives in England with his wife Tamzin and their sons Jude and Oscar.

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      Book preview

      Payback - James Loscombe

      Payback

      PAYBACK

      A SHORT STORY

      JAMES LOSCOMBE

      JRV Press

      Copyright © 2023 by James Loscombe

      All rights reserved.

      No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

      Walter was sitting by the window, leaning his head against the scratched glass. The outside world rushed by at close to 100mph. It was eleven in the morning and there was only one other person in the first class carriage; a fat bald man in a suit who was snoring.

      Walter was still wearing his school blazer, but he had taken off his tie and undone his top button. The train was air-conditioned, but he could feel the heat through the window.

      He didn’t think he could sleep, but he closed his eyes. The steady motion and the vibration quickly took their toll and a short while later, he was asleep.

      When he woke, the fat man in the suit had gone. He hadn’t even noticed the train stopping. He took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the time. It was just after four. He checked the map, his station was coming up.

      The train stopped, and he stepped onto the platform, dragging his suitcase behind him. There was a single platform and a single building that was closed.

      The door hissed closed, and the conductor blew his whistle. The train moved again, and he stood and watched it until it disappeared around the gently curving hill.

      There was no one waiting for him on the platform, so he dragged his case around the side through the blue gate. There were fewer than a dozen parking spaces and only a single black car.

      The front door opened, and a man stepped out. He wore a black suit and matching tie, a white shirt, highly polished shoes, and a hat.

      Good afternoon, Master Harrington, said the man in the suit.

      Hi Tom, said Walter.

      Tom opened the back door and Walter climbed in. He left his suitcase on the ground, which Tom picked up and put in the boot.

      The air-conditioning was turned up high, and the windows were dimmed. Walter settled into the deep leather seat and strapped himself in. Tom got into the front, started the engine, and drove out of the car park.

      The house was an hour away from the station in the middle of the countryside. Walter pulled out his phone again and checked for messages. There was one on Facebook from Timothy Dear:

      OMG chum. I can’t believe you got suspended. Still, wicked funny prank. See you over the summer?

      Walter closed the message without replying. He didn’t care for Timothy Dear. Everyone called him Darling but he didn’t seem to realize it wasn’t a term of endearment.

      Are my parent’s home? he said.

      Tom didn’t turn around, but Walter saw his eyes shift towards him in the mirror. They’re in Cannes, sir. They won’t be back for a week.

      Walter nodded and started playing a game on his phone to pass the time.

      The crunch of gravel told Walter that he was home. The old place loomed in the distance like a hole in time. Trees lined the driveway and beyond them were deer and wild elk. It took a full minute to reach the front of the house from the gate.

      Tom held the car door open, and he climbed out. There were no lights on in the house. Walter wondered whether the cook would have thought to make him something to eat.

      You’re welcome Master Harrington, said Tom.

      Walter stopped at the bottom of the steps and looked back. He had said nothing. Then he realized what Tom meant. He liked old Tom, and he was in enough trouble as it was. It was better to just play along. Thanks Tom, he said.

      That’s alright, sir.

      The house was cool and dark. There were dust sheets over the ornamental furniture in the welcome hall. It smelled

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