Old Man's Bad Day Out.

Old Man's Bad Day Out. Old Man's Bad Day Out.

Status: Finished

Genre: Other

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Other

Summary

This is a story about an old man who is assaulted and raped and how he takes out his own form of brutal revenge.

Summary

This is a story about an old man who is assaulted and raped and how he takes out his own form of brutal revenge.

Content

Submitted: July 20, 2014

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: July 20, 2014

A A A

A A A


Joe sat waiting patiently for the postman to arrive. He hoped he would bring his bus pass today. 65-year-old Joe had kept himself in good shape and was as fit as a fiddle. He was looking forward to using his pass and taking many free bus trips around the attractive Leicestershire villages. Joe had lived for many years with his wife and son in a large rambling Victorian house on the outskirts of the city. Sadly his wife had passed away some seven years ago, and tragedy struck once more when his only son Martin while riding his classic Triumph motorcycle was killed by a hit and run driver.

On his retirement, Joe had sold the house and content and moved into a self-contained flat in the city.  Hearing the letterbox rattle, he was pleased his bus pass had arrived. He had planned his first trip to Jason Park even saving some bread for the ducks. Putting on his lightweight jumper and loose-fitting tracksuit bottoms he often wore and with his walking stick he bought from a local charity shop he was on his way. Using his pass for the first time, he caught a bus from the centre that would drop him off right outside Jason Park gates.

It wasn't long before he arrived at his destination and walked through the large iron gates into the park; it had been over eight years since his last visit with his wife and son.  As he made his way towards the duck ponds, he noticed how much taller the trees had grown and with the birds singing he was enjoying his new found independence and in his mind, he was already thinking of future trips. Walking along the twisting path towards the ponds he passed by several park benches and noticed a group of rowdy teenage girls by one of them, a few were seated others simply milling around. He thought they were from the local grammar school on their lunch break but then realized some of them were in their early twenties and none were wearing school uniforms.

Most of them were wearing tight fitting jeans, short-sleeved denim or leather waste coats over flimsy see-through muscle vests; a few had tattoos along their arms, some of the older girls Joe thought looked very butch. There were some empty cans of cheap lager strewed about the floor and a peculiar sweet smell in the air. Joe had never encountered anything like this before and felt a little threatened. He had heard of these girl gangs and knew from reading the newspapers some could be extremely violent particularly towards elderly men. He decided to try and quicken his steps; he thought the sooner he was away from them, the better.

Suddenly one of the older girls shouted out at him. “Hey you, what are you staring at? You queer!”  Joe was not shocked it seemed to be the norm these days for young girls to drink and curse like two bob navvies on building sites.  “I'm talking to you fucking deaf head.”  She screamed as she stood up and made her way towards him.  Joe tried to hurry passed, but he soon found himself surrounded by the girl, who for no apparent reason started cursing and spitting at him. 

As they became braver they started pulling at his clothes, pushing and shoving him, he tried to defend himself by shouting at them and lashing out at them with his walking stick. He was just too old and too slow.  Losing his balance he fell heavily onto his shoulder, the teenagers were instantly on top of him, and like wild animals were digging their sharp fingernails into his flesh and tearing his clothes off his back. One standing girl kicked him a sharp painful blow to his head, and he knew he was in real trouble.  He managed to roll over onto his stomach; with his hands over his head, he tried to protect himself from further violent, vicious blows that kept raining down on him.  One girl sat on his back facing his feet. “Let's have his pants down.”  She screamed enthusiastically. 

The girls started clapping and urging on a few of the others who were eagerly and forcibly yanking at Joe's pants, pulling them down below his knees. They spread his legs apart exposing his bare buttock and genitals. Some of the girls were coming forward and taking it in turns, slapping his arse.  One girl took hold of his cock, pulling it up between his legs lifting him off the ground, while another flicked his balls several times, saying. “Show your stupid face here again mate, and I will chop these bastards off, this is our place now, so stay away!" 

She gave them a hard squeeze. Joe cried out like a whimpering dog in pain.  The girl on his back wrote with her lipstick on his buttocks. "Dirty perv with a big dick!”  As he lay there one of the older fat women lifting her short skirt; crouching down and with her knickers pulled to one side and urinated over him. The other girls screamed and yelled with laughter and delight as they ran off towards the gates, leaving Joe lying in the warm urine frightened, humiliated and partially naked.  He wanted to cover up but was afraid to move in case the girls hadn't all gone.

A woman of about 30 who had witnessed the attack, but hadn't taken part or intervened came over.  “Are you all right?" She asked. “I saw the girls; there has been a lot of trouble with them over this past year.  Please let me help you up."  Reaching down she took hold of the waistband of Joe's tracksuit and helped him as he pulled it up. 

Taking his arm they walked to the bench and sat down. “I will be all right in a minute once I get my breath back,”  Joe said leaning forward.  The woman stroked his back. “You poor man, you have been in the wars, haven't you? “ She said sympathetically.  It was awhile before she spoke again.  “By the way, I'm Kate."  Joe hesitated before answering.  “Very pleased to meet you, Kate. I'm Joe!”  They shook hands.  “If you like we can go back to my place for coffee, you can get cleaned up, it's only a short walk from here." She said.

Joe smiled and stood up, holding out his hand. Kate took Joe's arm, and together they walked from the park and were soon at Kate's first floor flat.  Once inside, however, her demeanor changed from a kind lady to a psychopathic killer.  With a baseball bat, she struck trusting and unsuspecting Joe a violent blow to the head, and he fell senseless to the floor. 

Kate's boyfriend Tony, a white boy of about 25 and built like a wrestler suddenly appeared together they stripped Joe and threw him on the bed tying his hands to the bedposts. “You have done well my pretty pussy,”  Tony said, as he kissed and caressed her sexually.  “This is another old pervert we will teach a painful lesson before he dies,” as a wicked smile danced across his lips.  Kate passionately kissed him again approvingly.

Kate had stripped and her now naked boyfriend greeted Joe as he came around by throwing cold water in his face. “Wake up scum bag! ” He shouted aggressively punching Joe several times on the side of the head.  Kate became excited seeing the violence and climbed astride Joe slapping his face a few times. “Go Baby! Go baby!”  Tony chanted as he spurred her on. Rubbing her soft naked body up and down Joe's chest and over his penis, thrusting her large ample breast into his face. “You like this do you?"  She said teasingly. “Like having me on top of you doing this. Do you? ”  She reached between her legs and gently fondled his penis.  Her movements became stronger and faster as she threw back her head, squealing with joy as Tony pulled and pinched her large nipples.

Joe could feel the soft, warm moist lips of her wet pussy as she moved, and a prickly sensation as her short pubic hairs stuck into him like hundreds of small needles.  He tried desperately to suppress any sexual response, but even under such cruel circumstances it was difficult to resist this beautiful woman, and he knew he was becoming aroused as she moved up and down.  Taking hold of his semi-erect penis, she slowly and precisely guided him into her.  It was a feeling Joe hadn't experienced in many years, and in only a few short second he had reached a climax and from the horror of his situation came a fleeting moment of pleasure.

Tony was laughing “Enjoyed that did you? You dirty old bastard!  Now I'll show you a real man in action."  He said boastfully as he pushed Kate's head onto Joe's chest and entered her from the rear.  Joe could feel his power as he thrust and grunted pushing and then pulling her back onto him with her long black hair.  His movements became more erratic; faster and more forceful as he neared his climax and sensed Kate was at the point of orgasm also.

She screamed out  “Don't stop! Please don't fucking stop!”  Her legs like a vice tighten onto Joe's body as she trembled uncontrollably.  Feeling her squirting as the hot wet liquid gushing from her and over him and with her screams of delight, Joe knew this was a female orgasm: something he had only read about and had never experienced anything like it; with his late wife or any of his girlfriends, none had ever behaved like that. As Kate left the room, the man dismounted and as a final insult wiped his wet sticky and now limp knob slowly and deliberately across Joe's face.  Joe tried to bite it but missed, and that got him another right-hander for his trouble. “Now that's not very friendly old man. Is it?" “Tony said.

Looking at Joe as he pulled on his pants.  “Make the most of this you old has-been.; you won't be going anyplace soon, only to meet your maker, but not until we have finished having fun.” He said producing a flick-knife from the pocket of his jeans and menacingly run it gently over Joe's chest, producing a long thin cut that started bleeding.  Kate now fully dressed returned to the bedroom and immediately slapped and punched Joe in the face. “Enjoyed me did you?" She screamed.  "Fucking enjoyed me did you?"   She repeated.  “I hope you did, when I get back I am going to chop your fucking cock off, and push it down your throat; that's given you something to look forward to while we're away.” She laughed menacingly.

“Have you seen this?” She said as she pushed Joe partially over onto his side.  The words the girl had written on his buttocks were smudged, but still readable. “We will redo them when we get back,”  Tony said looking at Joe and kissing his knife. After slapping him a few more times, they left the bedroom. 

Joe heard the front door slam shut, and a car engine start up.  He struggled to untie the ropes. "In the past hours" this was the first opportunity he had to escape.  Luckily for him the ropes were not that tight, he was soon able to free himself.  Quickly getting dressed he ran down the stairs and out into the street and was soon back home in the safety of his little flat.

That night Joe tried to understand what he had done wrong.  What had he done to bring about such violent and aggressive behavior towards him?  Had he provoked it in some way?  Could he have done anything different?  He just wanted to be left alone to enjoy his day in the park, why was that too much to ask?  Joe started to realize, these people were not normal.  “Well, not normal people in Joe's world.”  He concluded he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and with his age and unable to defend himself he was an easy target for such predators.  He knew he had been lucky to have escaped with his life.

Joe couldn't sleep that night he kept tossing and turning as the horror of the previous day kept coming back to him, but this time, the bad thoughts were merged with a sense of revenge.  He wanted vengeance so badly and the more he recalled the passed hours, the worse it got.  He hoped by the next day such thoughts of revenge would be less and he could get on with his life. The idea of retribution was even stronger the following day, so strong "in fact" it hurt.  He knew he had got to do something and fast, he would have to plan an equally brutal attack, or worse if he were to get satisfaction.

That day Joe decided to go and see Mick an old army mate who lived about ten miles away and who he hadn't seen for a while.  He knew Mick would have some good ideas on the best way for him to take his revenge.  Using his bus pass, he caught a bus to Loughborough and then made his way to Mick's house, ringing the bell he waited awhile.  The door slowly opened it was Mick's wife. “Is Mick about?”  He asked. “No!”  She said rather surprised by his request.  “Mick died two years ago now; was he a friend of yours?” “I’m very sorry to hear about that, I didn't know. I'm Joe; we were in the army together.” “He said. “Please come in Joe, Mick often spoke of you, I would have let you know about the funeral, but I didn't have your address."

They made their way along the short hall and into the sitting room.” “I moved about four years ago, the old house was just too big for me now I'm on my own."  He said. “Did you want him for anything special?  Can I help?”  She asked. “No nothing special, “Joe replied, now quickly trying to thinking of a good reason why he was there. “I'm putting a scrapbook together of my time in the army, and I wonder if Mick might have had something he would like to contribute that was all it was about."

“I haven't anything here now Joe, only a few photos of our 40 years together.  I put the other bits and bobs he had from the army into an auction to raise a little money to help with the funeral expenses.  I wanted to bury him; I didn't want to have him cremated, and of course, that doesn't come cheap these days. I expect you know how it is?”  She said apologetically."  I do indeed!” Joe replied as he stood up.  “ I had better get going, and once again I'm very sorry to hear the sad news we had some good times together.”  “I tell you what, there is an old army box down in the shed, it was all going to go to the auction, but they forgot to pick it up, maybe there is something in there you could use, you're welcome to look.”  She said walking with him to the backdoor and pointing at a shed near the bottom of the garden. "You will need a key."  She passed him a key from a hook on the wall.

Joe made his way down the garden path.  He could see the lock of the shed was rusty and the door hadn't been opened for years, however, with a little persuasion he managed to gain entry.  It was all a bit upside down inside. Joe keenly looked about and soon spotted a large wooden box in the corner. 

He opened it carefully; it was full of army memorabilia.  Joe enjoyed getting amongst it.  In the bottom, there were about 60 feet of thin, but very strong steel cable “I can use this.”  He thought; when suddenly his hands touched an object he was familiar with, taking it from the box and calling on his passed army career he knew it was a live hand grenade.  He had thrown many of them in his time.  There was also another one in the corner." “Good god Mick. How on earth did you get these out? You old bugger you!” He thought. Putting the stuff back in the box and the hand grenades in his pockets. Saying to himself. “You're coming home with me, you little beauties, I have plans for you.” 

Locking the shed, Joe made his way back to the house.” "Could you find anything?” She asked as he entered. “No, only this old wire, I could use it to mend my fence at home if you don't want it.” He said. “No just take it Joe its no use to me.”  “It's been very nice meeting you for the first time, only sorry it was under such sad circumstances.” He said, shaking her hand. “Yes it has been nice meeting you too Joe, mind you Mick spoke about you many times I feel I already know you.” Maybe I could call again and help you with your garden or a bit of painting or something; perhaps we could go out for a drink one evening.”  She pondered a minute before answering. “No I don't think so Joe, it's nice of you to ask, but I have another life now away from the army, I am sure you understand.” She said as he nodded his acceptance and said goodbye.

Joe returned late in the afternoon to his flat. He had been to the hardware shop and purchased two wire cable-clamping bolts. He also went back to the flat where he was a prisoner. It was around 3 pm when the couple left, getting into their powerful black BMW parked in front of the window on a hard stand. Tony was driving, and over-revving the engine. They drove off from the parking place, and out onto the street, so fast the tires were squealing, and the car left a trail of light blue smoke behind.  Joe thought the way you drive sums up the prick you are.

Late that night and dressed all in black with an army issue beret and gloves, carrying a small, strong bag, Joe approached the BMW parked facing the street. He crawled under the car and using clamping bolts fastened the wire to the rear axel and the other end to a disused steel gatepost at the side of the hard stand.  The following evening, the news was dominated by the unusual deaths of two of Leicester's young entrepreneurs. They showed the battered and smashed up BMW, and as more information became available regarding the attack there were many diagrams of how it had been done and endless discussions from experts and specialists, as they tried to find a motive for the murders and if they would ever find the murderer.

Joe knew his daring plan had worked to perfection. The car was being driven erratically by Tony and had lifted up at the back once the wire became tight throwing him through the windscreen.  Joe just knew, he was the sort of bighead who out of principle wouldn't use a seatbelt.  The car continued to rev high as the passenger door swung opened, throwing Kate into the road.  As if the car was on a pendulum, with its tires screeching, and smoking, and fighting for grip, sliding and bounced on the end of the wire.  It bounced right over Kate killing he instantly before tearing free from its tether and, slewing across the road smashing into a lamppost. Two down thought Joe, still lots more work to do. “Revenge is sweet,” he smirked, switching off the bedroom light, he went to sleep.

The next day the sun was shining.  Joe thought what a lovely day to kill someone.  He set out for the park and with the grenades in his pockets he walked through the gates and along the same path taken on the day of the assault.  He could see the girls laughing and harassing an old lady who was walking by them carrying two shopping bags; one had been knocked out of her hand and was on the floor, its contents being kicked about.  Some of the teenagers were spitting at her and calling her obscene names. She could do nothing only get away from the bullies as quickly as she could.

Undercover of the hedgerow on the other side of the path Joe slowly and quietly made his way towards where the girls had congregated in front of the bench.  He was about 25 yards away.  He knew he was still well inside the blast zone, but he had no confidence he would be able to throw the grenades far enough or accurately enough if he was in the safe zone and be sure he would hit their intended target.

He decided to take a chance. Lying on his back and partially hidden by the hedge.  Calling on his passed army training, he removed the pin from the first grenade and lobbed it over the top of the hedge in the direction of the girls. Before it had even landed he had tossed the second one and rolled over trying to make himself as small as possible he had no idea if they would explode or if they had reached their target. 

He had been successful on both counts and with devastating result.  The expositions were huge and destructive, blasting the unsuspecting teenager's apart like they were made of glass.  The girl who had instigated the attack on Joe landed more or less facing him on the path.  The bottom half her body blown away, she was barely alive.  Joe tried to stand not realizing he too had been severely injured.  Parts from the heavy steel bench had landed on the back of his legs crushing them and almost severing his right foot. 

He didn't feel any pain as he dragged himself towards the dying girl, coming face-to-face with her.  She looked into his eyes and recognized him.  “Why?”  She asked softly as tear whelmed up in her eyes. “Why?" Joe didn't answer, and with a bloody finger made a sign of the cross on her forehead. “Goodbye.”  He said with a slight hint of compassion as he rested his left hand under her head as if to keep it off the cold, damp tarmac path.  She closed her eyes and gently passed away.  He lay there not moving or feeling any remorse, in fact, he felt nothing as he passed out.

It wasn't long before hordes of ambulances, police and firemen arrived, running here there and everywhere not knowing what to do as the horror of the morning's events unfolded.  An ambulance rushed Joe to the Hospital; he was the only survivor.  He stayed in the hospital for many weeks recovering from his injuries.  He had lots of visitors bringing him flowers; fruit and sweets, even people from around the world sent him “Get Well” cards and money towards his private hospital room. Many of the girl's parents thanked him personally for risking his own life in his efforts to save their loved ones.

He had become a bit of a hero around the city. Some hardened policemen even broke down and cried after hearing Joe's emotional and passionate story.  A story that was only in Joe's head of how he had attempted to save the girls by running towards them shouting and waving his arms about desperately trying to make them run away: when he saw two Blackman launch their attack.  The police gave him an award for bravery and the “Lord Mayor” gave him the key to the city.  By the way!  I forget to mention that Joe was a bloody good actor and a pathological liar.  However, as strange as it might seem his cock-and -bull story was born out by the old women who had convinced herself she had, in fact, heard him shouting and screaming at the girls and had also seen two dark gentlemen fleeing from the scene.

Joe still lives on his own in his little flat. He now walks with a permanent limp a reminder of that day. A small price to pay he thinks knowing he has struck a blow for the older and abused of this world. "I would say too you. “You should be careful before you abuse any old wrinkle's there might be a Joe or Frank or Ben or Kathy or Margaret and millions of others just waiting to take Joe's place.
 

Yes! Joe is still using his bus pass, he went to the pictures in Hinckley last week to see "The Good The Bad and The Ugly" and he had a very nice day.

What happened about the two murdered entrepreneurs?  Well! Someone admitted it. She is presently serving 16 years in jail. 

It's a strange old world.

The End.

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© Copyright 2017 Desmo. All rights reserved.

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