Leigh was born and raised in the beautiful garden county of Wicklow, Ireland. She is the mother and proud protector of two wonderful boys, a black Labrador and a three legged cat that hates people. She is also the bane of her long-suffering partner James' life. Leigh has always lived in the dark, with a fierce love for all things morbid and macabre. A voracious reader from a young age, she always knew she wanted to write and it made sense to write about the genre she has loved for so long. She cites Ronald Malfi, Kealan Patrick Burke, and of course, Stephen King as her favourite authors and sources of inspiration. She is an advocate for mental health, having struggled with her own demons for many years. They're not quite friends yet but there's definitely some kind of truce in place.
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GRILL MASTER
by
Leigh Kenny
“Grab me some more steaks!”
Dan shouted to be heard above the music pumping from the sound system.
“Coming up bud!”, Tyler replied in an equally high volume.
Dan stood by the massive stainless-steel barbecue, one hand on his hip and the other wielding a spatula that glistened with a sheen of oil and meat particles. He sighed contentedly and surveyed his surroundings.
Summer vacations with the guys were the best! Their private island was small, and other equally sized islands could be spotted in the distance, dotted around in the same azure ocean as the one they currently inhabited. The beach house was a huge colonial looking affair, furnished with every sleek modern amenity that a man could possibly need. The house was surrounded by lush green grass and edged with tropical plants and palm trees, giving the whole place an air of privacy. And of course, there was the pool and patio area, perfect for barbecues.
A few of the boys whooped and splashed in the warm pool, the turquoise sky reflecting on the water’s surface. Puddles of water splashed haphazardly around the flagstone patio, a cool reprieve for bare skin on the hot stone.
It had cost them an absolute fortune, but he and the guys all worked hard. It made sense to play even harder.
ManCave Escapes was the obvious solution for their vacation needs.
The company catered specifically to the powerful and rich men of the world, and Dan and his friends fell into the latter category. Their work in finance was demanding, leaving little time for relationships other than those forged on the plush carpets of the office floor.
Not that it mattered to Dan.
He had his work, his money and this tight circle of friends. Sure, he loved women, but only for his own gratification.
And that was just another reason he had sought out ManCave Escapes.
His personal vacation advisor had assured Dan that their every requirement could be met, no matter how big or small, no matter how unusual or unsavoury their tastes.
They were expecting a delivery of girls later that evening. Probably highly paid hookers, but the company would make it known in advance exactly what was expected of them.
And they would meet the expectations of the men with smiles on their faces or they would be removed from the equation very quickly.
The company employee whose job it was to ferry the girls to Dans secluded island escape, would stay on the boat at the dock while the party was underway. If any of the girls gave the impression of reluctance or worse, boredom, they’d be sent straight back to the boat and would receive no payment.
“Dude!!”, Dan roared at Tyler. “I’ll just go ahead and get those steaks myself yea?!”
Tyler, floating around the pool on a ridiculous oversized flamingo, lifted his arm high and gave Dan a thumbs up.
Dan snorted, a mixture of amusement and exasperation, and tossed the spatula towards the mosaic tiled table beside the grill. He grabbed the empty platter and headed towards the large glass double doors at the back of the house.
Stepping through the lightly curtained doorway, the cool air was an instant relief on his sun-baked skin.
The house had an underground pantry with a restaurant sized walk-in cooler. It was perfect for storing their meat. The company had provided the freshest ingredients for the entirety of their stay, with the pantry well stocked upon their arrival with the finest of both food and booze. Dan padded on bare feet down the steps to the pantry. He keyed in the code of the walk-in cooler and heard the buzz of the lock disengaging. He pulled the door open and rolled his eyes at the mess before him. Whoever had come down the last time for steaks had made no effort to clean up.
Well, he mused, that’s what cleaners are for.
Blood pooled on the floor, so dark in places it was almost black. The wall closest to the prone body was spattered in crimson. Dark red rivulets had run lazily down toward the floor before drying to rust. There was only one full leg left on the body, the rest of the limbs taken in bits and pieces as their appetites had required. The sharp tang of cauterised wounds still hung in the air.
The woman looked dead.
Dead just wouldn’t do.
Dan knelt, careful to avoid the chains and the blood on the vinyl floor. He felt for a pulse. Satisfied, he grabbed his instrument from the nearby table. The saw came to life with an electric whine. He cut what he needed from the remaining leg and stacked the meat on the platter he had brought with him. Grabbing the torch, he cauterised quickly and cleanly, the sickly scent that constantly permeated the air in the cooler growing stronger.
As he stood, movement at the back of the room caught his eye. He stepped towards the shadows where chains clanked and looked down at the girl before him. He studied her silently for a moment then reached out and touched his hand to her cheek, almost tenderly. The girl gave a muffled whimper through her gag and flinched, her golden hair falling across her tear-stained face.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be your turn soon enough sweetheart”, he said softly.
He turned and walked from the room, the girl releasing an anguished moan behind him as he shut the door firmly and engaged the lock. Dan whistled as he skipped back up the steps and into the sun to join his friends by the barbecue. Eying the platter, they all murmured their appreciation.
Dan slapped the fresh slabs of meat onto the hot coals. They sizzled and spat almost instantly, the sweet gamey aroma reaching towards him and causing him to salivate. He patted the crimson steaks with his spatula and grinned in anticipation of the succulent red meat. He loved summer vacations.