Category Archives: lee sykes


Darius the killer felt a thousand police eyes on his scarred face. He scanned the deserted concrete maze and saw nothing but taunting graffiti that disappeared with a severe blink. A side effect of the meds, that were supposed to drag him out of his depression when his wife left, was potential psychosis. It was a rare side effect but he had it, manifested in intense paranoia. His blood blistered his veins, his skin felt like it was trying to drag itself off his bones and he jittered and twisted on the spot. This was the Akathisia. Intense restlessness akin to the worst cocaine fuck over blended with relentless insomnia. Rare also, but Darius the killer needed no reminding he was born drug sensitive. The taunts would never leave his memory.
+++++The girlfriend the wife divorced him over demanded he get specialist psychiatric help with the psychosis. She told him she could accept he was a professional murderer but she wouldn’t accept being a pro bono victim because of his chemical living nightmares mistaking her for an alien or some other fucked up shit.
+++++The experts looked him up and down and ignored his bundle of research print-outs, diagnosing him as schizophrenic. They ordered him into the hospital and he politely declined. Six police officers walloped his door off its hinges, splintering the frame, and bundled him into the waiting van. Dumped him into the hospital seclusion room. He was de-bagged and injected with what they described as anti-psychotic drugs whilst still in cuffs, to cure his new diagnosis. They increased his initial meds too because they figured these things go hand in hand. They eventually let him go home on the condition he never missed his fortnightly jab, else they’d drag him back. He played the good soldier and gifted them his trademark cracked smile. He was a killer and had money to earn after all.
+++++The girlfriend said life was too short to wait for him to get specialist help for the impotence the new drugs he’d been forcibly subject to, had caused. A rare side effect, but Darius the killer, even when alone, heard the taunts right in his eardrums because he’d been drug sensitive in the womb.
+++++Unending taunts, every waking hour, peppered his mind. Alone now in his bed, staring at the cracks spidering in the ceiling, he contemplated his next move. He was a redundant hitman, fired for killing the wrong person in the last two hits. Word spread throughout the network he was loco. He knew he wanted his life to mean something. And he knew what he wanted to achieve. He jerked his limp dick and wept at its flaccidity. An impending killing was the only failsafe in the absence of wet pussy and he cried harder his failsafe failed to get a response.
+++++The taunts screamed more abuse and he knew he only way to silence them. He was going to put his skills to use and the taunts would have to fuck off because he now had a mission. He felt the righteousness hijack the Akathisia for fuel. He double checked the location of the meet he’d earwigged at the hospital and checked the date. Tonight was the beginning of the game.
+++++Darius the killer flushed at the frying spice drifting into his nostrils, reminding him he hadn’t eaten in days. He peered through the steamed window of the Peking Palace restaurant and stared at diners stuffing their grinning mouths with chop sticks. The taunts laughed in his ears. He spat hard on the pane and paced down the alley beside the building. He jogged up the steel fire escape and burst into the back entrance of the brothel above.
+++++The walls and floor were carpeted in neon blue and he shrugged off hookers in his storm down the narrow, smoke filled corridor. Room twenty one.
+++++He clicked open the door, entering the suite flushed with lush lilac. A beige chaise lounge was covered in skewed study results, blank signature lines illuminated by the dull pink lamp on a nearby teak table. The walls and ceiling were covered in mirrors. The occupants froze.
+++++‘Nice to see you again, Doc. Strange place to be finalizing scientific studies.’ Darius looked over to the chubby man on the left of the Doc. His name was too small to read but he clearly made out the company logo on its sales rep ID. ‘Sorry about arriving before the whores.’
+++++He laughed at the perplexed expressions. Pulled out the purple latex glove and wriggled his twitching digits into it, watching their faces change simultaneously. He observed their eyes widen as he slid out the machete from inside his jacket. ‘I’ll be quick fellas. Don’t worry, I’ll make the mess post mortem.’
+++++The sales rep nudged the frozen Doc, noticed he’d pissed himself and turned to the interloper. ‘I’ll double whatever you’re getting’, he pleaded.
+++++Darius chuckled, ‘Impossible. This one’s for free. You lads have the distinction of being the first. Everyone remembers the first victims. That’s why I’m going to do you with this’, he said, swinging the blade. ‘Serial slashers get more press than clean killings.’
+++++The Doc found his voice. ‘Killings? Are you mad? We aren’t responsible –’
+++++‘For your drugs sending me daft? Making me impotent? Not this either?’ Shouted Darius, brandishing the withered mass of congealed bone at the tip of his left wrist. ‘Thalidomide. Do you two bastards have any idea what it’s like growing up with something like this?’ He spat, his saliva whitening in the corners of his mouth. His right hand stopped shaking and he glared at the pair.
+++++The sales rep croaked, ‘Listen to the doctor and calm down.’
+++++‘Calm down? Fuck off. You’re here, bribing this clown to sign fake studies and prescribe medications that you either know full well can be harmful, or have no idea what harm they can cause. And you tell me to calm down? Look at me.’ He gestured with his malformed appendage. ‘You two are only the first in a long line of me exposing this sickness you corrupt fuckers’. Darius swung with rage and hacked the machete into the chaise lounge.
+++++The doctor and the sales rep shared a desperate look and rushed with flailing arms. Grappled with the wrist and prying fingers back from the handle of the knife embedded in the mahogany frame. Darius released his grip and reached inside his jacket for his pistol. The doctor struggled to apply a weak bear hug, the two crashing backwards to the floor. Arms struggled and elbows clashed and the men rolled around in a twisted wrestle.
+++++The gun arm jerked and locked. The roar of the gunshot echoed around the room.
+++++Shards rained from above.
+++++A glinting blur descended, ending in a sickening hack.
+++++Six eyes looked around in panic and six eardrums rang and six nostrils smelled the blending of metallic rust and nitroglycerin and graphite.
+++++Darius the killer screaming.
+++++Six eyes locked on the severed hand, still gripping the pistol.
+++++The sales rep dropped the machete. Dragged the dazed doctor up from the floor. Snatched the unsigned papers and they scampered out of the door.
+++++Darius the killer flicked his stare to the gleaming white of the bone protruding from the tip of his right wrist and screeched and convulsed and wept.
+++++The taunts returned, cackling loudly in his ears. He wiped away tears with his bloodstained wrist and shook his head. The taunts laughed louder.
+++++He knelt in front of the displaced hand. Tilted the still warm extremity with his forearms. Leaned forward and took the barrel in his mouth.
+++++He took a final glare at the end of each wrist and held his breath. He closed his eyelids tightly. He smiled at the blank darkness.
+++++He exhaled and pressured the cooling hand, depressing the trigger.