"Your name is Alyson Giles."
The sound of a door slamming open, disgorging a body onto the street only a few metres away. A whimpering voice, male, pleading indistinctly through a broken jaw, the words wet and slurred as blood spewed from a tongue bitten clean through in terror.
"You were born on the 6th of October, 1987, in Port Talbot, Wales."
Other voices, also male, distinguishable as English by their accents, threatening the first between the dull, sickening sound of feet impacting into a helpless body as it lolled on the ground, hidden in the shadows of the alleyway.
"Your father was Dafydd Giles, a primary school teacher in the nearby city of Swansea. Your mother was Matilda Giles, n?e Jenkins, a midwife who also worked in the greater Swansea area. Both are deceased."
The sound of the beating goes on for seems an eternity, an horrific soundtrack to counter the terrified rasp of her breath in her throat, the staccato beat of her heart rushing in her ears. As time goes on, the cries of pain grow less, until all she can hear of the victim is his breath rattling in his throat.
"You attended Ynysmaerdy Primary, followed by Cefn Saeson Comprehensive, before taking a degree in Adult Nursing at Cardiff University, which you completed in 2007."
Please ....let it stop. She presses back into the shadows behind an industrial wastebin, squeezing her eyes shut as her covering of cardboard rustles. They can't know she's here, or she's dead, too.
"Your first job was at Cardiff Royal Infirmary, where you stayed for three years. In the course of your time there, you met your now husband."
Finally, the sounds of feet and coshes on unprotected skin and bone end, leaving the alleyway filled with the rough whistle of lungs gasping for breath. And footsteps, dull and heavy, each one echoing the promise of what is to come for the unfortunate victim.
"You were married on the 14th June, 2010, and moved to Brighton, England, with your husband, where you took a job at the Royal Sussex County Hospital."
A new voice enters the mix, a voice she knows well, a voice anyone who has had any dealings with the so-called criminal underworld around here knows beyond any shadow of a doubt. Her eyes snap open as this voice, cultured, upper-class, so out of place here among the refuse, informs the weeping man at his feet of the price of failure.
"You have come to Rhy'Din because of your husband's profession, which he will explain to you when you meet. It is imperative that you convince whomever you meet of the legitimacy of your marriage."
Unable to help herself, she peers around the edge of the bin that protects her from their sight. Four men, burly and strong, the sort of men for whom the word 'thug' was created, stand over a fifth, crumpled on the ground in a pool of his own blood, his skin bruised and broken. A sixth man stands back from the group, and this is the man who scares her most. Eddie Stein, a man who can cut you dead with a single word, and whom no one has ever grassed on.
"Temporary accomodations have been assigned to you, but it is down to you to arrange a more permanent home for you both to live. Your husband is a fully trained operative, and will remain with you for the next two years, during which time it is expected that we will track down the last of Mr Stein's associates."
He draws a gun, aims dispassionately at the head of the one lying amid the rubbish, and pulls the trigger. The sharp retort of the weapon sends her jerking back out of sight, huddling down into her cardboard bed, hoping, desperately hoping, that they have neither seen nor heard her. There is laughter, and another thud as a foot connects with the shattered skull of the dead, before footsteps walk away, leaving her in the company of the murdered man.
"Until we say it is safe, you are Alyson Giles, happily married and content to be in Rhy'Din. When it is decided that you are no longer in danger, then you may go back to being Alix Powell, homeless reprobate."
The police find her hours later, sobbing in terror only feet away from the victim. It takes a further three days, but they convince her to testify, they say they will protect her. But in court, as the judgement is announced and Eddie Stein is sentenced to prison, he looks her straight in the eye.
"He can't hurt you here. And we need your testimony to put his associates away for life. Don't you even think of running for it."
And she knows, as those stern eyes meet hers, that no matter where she goes, no matter what she does, she is a dead woman walking. Someday, in some unknown place, she will hear another sharp crack as a gun is fired, and in that moment, Eddie Stein will have his revenge.
The sound of a door slamming open, disgorging a body onto the street only a few metres away. A whimpering voice, male, pleading indistinctly through a broken jaw, the words wet and slurred as blood spewed from a tongue bitten clean through in terror.
"You were born on the 6th of October, 1987, in Port Talbot, Wales."
Other voices, also male, distinguishable as English by their accents, threatening the first between the dull, sickening sound of feet impacting into a helpless body as it lolled on the ground, hidden in the shadows of the alleyway.
"Your father was Dafydd Giles, a primary school teacher in the nearby city of Swansea. Your mother was Matilda Giles, n?e Jenkins, a midwife who also worked in the greater Swansea area. Both are deceased."
The sound of the beating goes on for seems an eternity, an horrific soundtrack to counter the terrified rasp of her breath in her throat, the staccato beat of her heart rushing in her ears. As time goes on, the cries of pain grow less, until all she can hear of the victim is his breath rattling in his throat.
"You attended Ynysmaerdy Primary, followed by Cefn Saeson Comprehensive, before taking a degree in Adult Nursing at Cardiff University, which you completed in 2007."
Please ....let it stop. She presses back into the shadows behind an industrial wastebin, squeezing her eyes shut as her covering of cardboard rustles. They can't know she's here, or she's dead, too.
"Your first job was at Cardiff Royal Infirmary, where you stayed for three years. In the course of your time there, you met your now husband."
Finally, the sounds of feet and coshes on unprotected skin and bone end, leaving the alleyway filled with the rough whistle of lungs gasping for breath. And footsteps, dull and heavy, each one echoing the promise of what is to come for the unfortunate victim.
"You were married on the 14th June, 2010, and moved to Brighton, England, with your husband, where you took a job at the Royal Sussex County Hospital."
A new voice enters the mix, a voice she knows well, a voice anyone who has had any dealings with the so-called criminal underworld around here knows beyond any shadow of a doubt. Her eyes snap open as this voice, cultured, upper-class, so out of place here among the refuse, informs the weeping man at his feet of the price of failure.
"You have come to Rhy'Din because of your husband's profession, which he will explain to you when you meet. It is imperative that you convince whomever you meet of the legitimacy of your marriage."
Unable to help herself, she peers around the edge of the bin that protects her from their sight. Four men, burly and strong, the sort of men for whom the word 'thug' was created, stand over a fifth, crumpled on the ground in a pool of his own blood, his skin bruised and broken. A sixth man stands back from the group, and this is the man who scares her most. Eddie Stein, a man who can cut you dead with a single word, and whom no one has ever grassed on.
"Temporary accomodations have been assigned to you, but it is down to you to arrange a more permanent home for you both to live. Your husband is a fully trained operative, and will remain with you for the next two years, during which time it is expected that we will track down the last of Mr Stein's associates."
He draws a gun, aims dispassionately at the head of the one lying amid the rubbish, and pulls the trigger. The sharp retort of the weapon sends her jerking back out of sight, huddling down into her cardboard bed, hoping, desperately hoping, that they have neither seen nor heard her. There is laughter, and another thud as a foot connects with the shattered skull of the dead, before footsteps walk away, leaving her in the company of the murdered man.
"Until we say it is safe, you are Alyson Giles, happily married and content to be in Rhy'Din. When it is decided that you are no longer in danger, then you may go back to being Alix Powell, homeless reprobate."
The police find her hours later, sobbing in terror only feet away from the victim. It takes a further three days, but they convince her to testify, they say they will protect her. But in court, as the judgement is announced and Eddie Stein is sentenced to prison, he looks her straight in the eye.
"He can't hurt you here. And we need your testimony to put his associates away for life. Don't you even think of running for it."
And she knows, as those stern eyes meet hers, that no matter where she goes, no matter what she does, she is a dead woman walking. Someday, in some unknown place, she will hear another sharp crack as a gun is fired, and in that moment, Eddie Stein will have his revenge.