PEOPLE ARE DYING TO KNOW HER
Every one loves a pretty face even if it belongs to a serial killer. Part of her was always stuck in the past, trying to live for the day, dreaming of the future, but haunted by her past.
1) INT. PRISON-DAY
Camera looks up and down at SHELLY TAYLOR (35)her feline face with her high cheekbones and come-to-bed eyes, framed by tinted strawberry blonde hair, she is head-turning and a dead ringer for Britain’s Got Talent Judge Amanda Holden’s lovechild with Kate Moss.
Shelly gives the impression of someone who has everything in life, great looks, good career and luxury lifestyle but far from normal or happy. A successful and independent female admired by women and adored by men.
Female OFFICER JENKINS, 42, matronly figure, leads her to a cold bare prison room.
2) EXT. SCHOOL YARD-DAY. 22 YEARS EARLIER.
A gang of bullies lead by PAUL GREENING. 16, shaved head, classic, neo-nazi attire, battered A1 combat jacket with rolled-up jeans and Doc Martens, fascist boot boy, and his gangly followers, 7 boys, PETER BROWN,TERRY REASON(insert 5 boys’ names), 14-17 wearing Harrington jackets and button down shirts with two-tone trousers, loafers and brogues, surround Shelly. Greening sniffs and jerks, wiping his nose, he is buzzed from cocaine.
I had been groomed and after the first gang rape, was gang property.
Remove your clothes slut
Not wanting to upset them, I did .
Shelly starts removing her school uniform
It was pack mentality. From thirteen to eighteen, I was routinely stripped, humiliated, assaulted and sexually abused by Greening and his gang.
Slag… slut….you whore
Greening slaps Shelly’s face.
3) INT. PRISON-DAY.
The hard faced Jenkins wipes a lone tear and regains composure.
I never recovered from the embarrassment, being stripped…… Teenage boys grinning….jeering.
That boy stole my childhood. Paul Greening, the Right Honorable Member of Parliament, pervert, child abuser, and a bully. No regrets about killing him. I just wish I’d done it years ago. Tears stream down the face of Jenkins.
4) INT. NIGHT-DARK ROOM.
Shelly’s silhouette and a knife in her hand.
5) INT. PRISON PSYCHOLOGIST OFFICE-DAY.
Shelly is sitting in a chair a few feet away from GARTH, the prison psychologist, 40’s, prim suit with disheveled white collar shirt and tie, specs and manicured beard, prepares Shelly’s files.
Say I get a birthday card, right? It says, happy birthday and I’d have flashbacks of Greening and his gang so I am not happy, just angered and depressed.
So you feel that you were traumatized, he damaged you deeply, you cannot get past those memories. What we know for sure, is it gave you a highly sexualized image of yourself, it is nothing to be ashamed about.
Shelly closes her eyes. Silent, she sees herself at music festivals, surrounded by mods, drinking alcohol, doing drugs.
Yes, I moved away and lost myself blocking out my past…..to survive….drinking …taking drugs…suffering from depression, panic attacks, nightmares and post-traumatic disorders ever since I was a teenager. I only had control over my looks which is why I started a hair-dressing business while Greening became a policeman and then a Tory politician.
What happened to Paul Greening? The night you came face to face?
6) INT. STRIP CLUB-EVENING.
Greening is naked, badly beaten, covered in urine, tied-up and chained to a lap dancing pole.
I needed answers to twenty years of questions that had been eating away at my mind, poisoning my soul and scarring my heart. The voices in my head were now saying to make him talk before you kill him.
Greening is weep and scared.
I must have spoken a million words in my lifetime, but none sounded sweeter than what I said to Greening that day, naked and trussed like a bloody turkey.
WARWICK COURTNEY (38), a massive muscled Mike Tyson look alike stands guard above a bloody Greening
He looked so different from the last time I had seen him. It was poetic justice using Warwick since Greening was a life-long racist. His hair had long disappeared, as had his square jaw and muscular physique, now buried under a mountain of bloated flab.
Shelly takes a deep breath, staring at Greening.
(in a very quite, level voice, as one might speak to a young child who is bad.)
Why was I ever scared of you, you fat bald bastard? Hello Paul, it`s lovely to meet you.
Greening’s expression is cold.
What’s up? Don’t you recognize me with my clothes on? You’d have to be really thick not to know what I think about you. You’d also have to have no memory? The young girl you treated like shit. The teenage girl you raped and terrorized.
Greening widens eyes in recognition.
7) INT. 22 YEARS AGO. DAY ONE. GABLE BROOK COMPREHENSIVE.
Shelly 13 but with large breasts of a 21 year old, long legs and blonde hair, walks shyly with her head down, avoiding eye contact, confrontation or unwanted conversation, completely innocent and still a child.
Burly builders wolf-whistle and older boys in hallway notice her.
I had a new bag, and a uniform I hated and butterflies in my stomach, quite nervous about my first day at a new school even though my mum told me Cockney sparrows are scared of nothing. Girls ignored me as if I was invisible. Then I noticed a group of boys hanging about in the cloakroom, their eyes boring into me as I walked along the corridor, and within seconds I was surrounded by Paul Greening and his gang.
Look at that, hot or what?
She`s alright , but a bit young.
Alright, what do ya mean alright, look at those fucking legs.
Paul Greening, the sneering skinhead lifts up her skirt. Shelly freezes like a deer in the headlights while hearing the laughter. Her navy blue nickers are on show to a bunch of giggling schoolboys.
I felt a hand between my legs and heard the words I never forgot.
I’m Paul. Paul Greening. You’ve probably heard of me. Welcome to Gable Brook.
My legs went weak and I felt sick. I then made the biggest mistake of my life and one I regret. I never reported the assault. I was the new kid in town with no idea who to turn to for help. I had no friends, and knew none of the teachers. It seemed easier to say nothing, and on my first day I didn’t want the label of a snitch.
8) INT. STRIP CLUB-EVENING.
Greening wobbles like a jelly which drains the color from his fat face. Whimpering , crying , shaking his head, spraying sweat, wriggling his cuffed wrists like a puppy dog with a new toy. His skin is turning grey.
Camera reveals she is not acting alone, HARRY HARRIS (27) Irish, but sounding like a cockney Capone, a modern day gangster with old school morals and a career criminal. Various newspapers call him the Dillinger of Dagenham or The Capone of Canning Town.
You’re on trial, a helpless victim with no human rights, no legal representation, and guess what? I have found you guilty.
Shelly paces as though she feels the power, savoring the moment. She continues pacing like a fanatical dictator. She looks for pliers from the toolbox and grabs a box cutter instead while she spits in his face.
Every time I am met with silence….. I’ll slash you. Got it?
You got the wrong Paul, it wasn’t me. It was Hunter. Paul Hunter.
Shelly slashes him and she slashes him again, a deep gaping wound stretches from one ear to the other.
No rush to put you out of your misery. I have been waiting for 22 years for this. I am the teenage girl you used and (circles him) abused for 6 years.
She slashes him again across the chest and blood pours like water from a burst pipe. Harry proceeds to piss in an empty bottle of water and tips the urine over Greening’s head. Shelly picks up her phone.
For the record? Go ahead, confess.
Yes, (he pauses in pain) I raped you.
Why did you pick on me?
Because I could.
It sounds more like a boast than an apology.
Shelly plunges the knife into his heart. Greening screams hysterically as she shreds him to pieces, and finishes him off with a baseball bat, smashing him around the body, cracking his kneecaps and breaking his hands and feet. Harry embraces her like a character from The Godfather.
Off you go, I’ll clean up here and you get yourself cleaned up, ok love?
Harry kisses Shelly on the cheek.
INT. BATHROOM -NIGHT
Shelly looks in mirror and cleans the last of blood and heads to door.
INT. WINE BAR-NIGHT
Shelly knocks back several glasses of wine, she makes small talk and revels in a cavalier and celebratory manner with bar patrons.
9) EXT. HIGH STREET. DAY. THREE DAYS LATER
Shelly picks up a copy of THE SUN and laughs.
HEADLINE : TORY MP FOUND DEAD, read on…..found naked with multiple knife wounds, and a black stocking stuffed in his mouth.
Shelly smiles broadly and catches her reflection in the window.
(under breath to herself)
Will I ever stop smiling? An added pleasure of destroying his reputation.
10) INT. PRISON CELL-DAY (Present day)
Shelly confides to her cell mate KATE, 30, tattooed, rough looking yet red-lipsticked about her last hours before the sentencing.
My last night of freedom? Snorting cocaine, drinking champagne and making love to Harry. He slipped off at dawn so around noon I took a long bath, pampering myself and then I handed myself over to Essex police. A Sun photographer and SKY News were there as I tipped them off. My last-ever taste of freedom made a statement. I had the perfect make-up and not a hair out of place, yeah, I knew the pictures would be flashed around the world.
Did you want to be famous?
Famous us and infamous, you bet, my chance to acquire cult status , and let’s be honest , everyone loves a pretty face…even if it belongs to a serial killer.
They both smile at each other, both seeing to notice a romantic spark.
The cops were shocked when I confessed. Paul Greening was hard-line on law and order and the darling of The Police Federation. They couldn’t believe one of there own was a pervert and a rapist.
11) INT. WEST END. CENTRAL LONDON HOTEL. PLUSH SURROUNDINGS. -DAY
Shelly opens the door to tabloid journo REBEKAH WOODS (32) attractive, dark hair, long legs, high intelligence reflected in a posh accent and winning smile.
Rebekah and her minder, Titch (46) a great big muscular bloke and they walk into her hotel room, they eye each other up like a couple of boxers but within hours Rebekah and Shelly have become close. A relationship bordering on friendship and mutual sexual attraction.
Shelly came across like a movie star and had an aura about her.
I was attracted to her Rebekah. Oh yeah, I admit to having had several flings. Rebekah was the sort of woman I could have been. She was everything I wished I was which is why I picked her to do the interview and trusted her to take down my story, it is my story and I got to tell it, my way.
12) Montage – gruesome photographs. Shelly takes snapshots of Tory MP Paul Greening, Peter Brown and Terry Reason in pools of blood, dead. Photos reveal detailed information about some of the other murders that had not published in the media.
The net was closing in some 72 hours before my arrest. I booked into Central London Hotel and for the next two days I sung like a canary to Rebeka. It was immediately obvious to Rebekah that I wasn’t just another time-wasting fantasist. I silently accepted her minder Titch’s presence and he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.
SHELLY (TO REBEKAH
They say only two per cent of women are serial killers, so I’m the newest member of a rare breed, I am not killing randomly, there’s a reason.
Rebakah was excited about a best-selling book and her world exlusive interview. I was box office, a tabloid sensation, as everyone is fascinated by women who kill, aren’t they?
To ensure a TV documentary followed Rebekah filmed the confession and took many of the pictures. I wasn’t just a serial killer but has slaughtered a well-known Tory politician.
I want to follow up the interview Shelly, with the authorized auto-biography. I know what sells and I am going to insure your face is splashed across the covers of magazines.
I am no longer a silent victim. The bible says an eye for a eye and that’s exactly how I see it. My request for you is take no pictures of me crying or looking vulnerable. I refuse to fake regret or show remorse. I rather be hated then pitied.
Rebekah writes in her journal quickly and excitedly.
I want you to start the book with a strong opening and confession, to make sure it sets the right tone, connects with the reader and hopefully win some people over to my side.
Rebekah listens with a poker face.
Titch doesn’t seem to have your stamina?
Why did you…. kill?
I wanted to show all the other people who’d been wronged in life how easy it was to get even.
Look, as a life-long feminist, I see myself as a modern day heroine for teenage girls, battered wives or rape victims. A pin-up for women around the world who’d been bullied, sexually abused or persecuted by men, I want to empower women. I don’t want people to love me, but to understand why I killed eight times.
12) INT. COURT. TRIAL BEGINS-DAY
The trial as a media circus, an international event with TV crews from around the world. Armed police and curious onlookers surrounding the Court. Shelly walks into the dock at the Old Bailey- the court is bursting with reporters and shell-shocked relatives. Rebekah is under oath speaking with officer CHARLOTTE HAWKINS(40) who is in her police uniform.
I could see Shelly was a women with exceptional poise, self-control and had no intention of losing it. She said to me right at the start, you are not going to see me cry or hear me say sorry. Of course I didn’t want to make her cry. I just wanted a great headline and I have no regrets is much stronger then her saying I`m sorry. She was front page news and I wanted to be part of it. I knew it would give me a lot of airtime and of course earn me a fortune. That’s why I got her to sign on the dotted line and make me her official spokesperson. I had done PR for Rock stars, models, soap stars and footballers but this was my first Serial Killer.
How did you meet?
She called me and said it was urgent and suggested we meet at the Central London Hotel in the west end. I knew it was going to be a long night, she said bring your pajamas!
Were you nervous or scared?
I took some security with me. No way was I walking into a hotel room alone with a self-confessed serial killer. Shelly opened the door looking as if she’d just walked off the set of a Hollywood movie, truly stunning.
13) INT. HOTEL ROOM-EVENING
Shelly lays on her belly on the bed and Rebekah sits in the armchair next to her.
It was Christmas Eve … I just gave up … And it worked.
It obviously didn’t. I don’t understand?
I wrote a suicide note, my ‘Goodbye, Cruel World’ letter; and was serious about ending it.
What happened then?
14) INT. SHELLY’S APARTMENT. XMAS-MORNING. 6 MONTHS BEFORE
I had cried myself to sleep. I woke up and I wasn’t dead, and no longer felt suicidal. I cant explain my change of heart, can only guess that while most people were visited by Santa on Christmas Eve … I had a visit from God (PAUSE) Yeah, I’m a atheist, but some kind of divine intervention persuaded me to fight on…
Shelly opens her eyes and sees The bottle of vodka and pile of tablets are still on the bedside table next to her. Shelly rises and looks out the window to the snow falling.
15)INT.HOTEL ROOM.-EVENING – PRESENT DAY
The bed was cold and empty, the house was silent, but I didn’t feel alone.
Are you saying it was like a religious experience?
It could help your defense.
Saying I did not know what I was doing when I killed those 8 bastards? Oh no, I knew exactly what I was doing (PAUSE)
This was 6 months before the first killing … it was no close encounter with religion (PAUSE) I didn’t say a prayer …
16) INT.SHELLY APARTMENT.-DAY
Flash back. Xmas Day. Shelly goes into the lounge and puts on a Greatest Hits Christmas album, Shelley reaches for and plays Lonely This Christmas by Mud which makes her cry Shelley puts on The Fairytale Of New York by The Pogues . Shelly sings along.
I could have been someone. It triggered a positive reaction and gave me the strength to fight on. I knew.. There was a solution, I didn’t have to die.
17) INT. WEST END. CENTRAL LONDON HOTEL-NIGHT – PRESNT DAY
I am still waking due to nightmares, yeah, I wear my heart on my sleeve. Therapy is not something I thought I would do, but was out of options.
I sought professional help for 6 months but it didn’t give me the tools to cope at all. My use of alcohol and drugs, it just wasn’t enough to erase my past. Here I am in my mid-thirties, still using cocaine to survive.
19) EXT. PLAYGROUND. MONTAGE. 1979.-DAY
Shelly is smoking weed to numb herself from the constant harassment from Greening and his gang at school. Tough boys, the cool guys. She is bombarded with taunts from their mates and girlfriends. 13-year-old Shelly is wearing mod clothes and part of a full scale Mod revival inspired by the band The Jam.
I was not popular teenager, an underdog and alone, so I stayed silent and tried to block out the pain by self-medicating, and fake as much dignity as I could. There was years of drug abuse, heavy drinking, promiscuity, celibacy, and lesbian flings to gain peace of mind. In all honesty I was messed up before I carried out my first murder. In a way it was my key to happiness.
Mod Shelly intercut smokes a joint and looks wistfully out a window and at her reflection simultaneously.
Greening was a racist skinhead three years older then me, a school bully with a gang of 8 teenage tearaways and with two elder brothers to back him up. Greening, struck both fear and blind loyalty into his mates. Greening was also out of tune with the gang of Mods who followed him. As well as The Jam, they were into 2-tone bands like The Specials and The Selector, Tamla Motown and Prince Buster. Greening loved racist talentless bands like Screwdriver.
Horrible, evil, nasty, cowardly, criminal and unforgivable, not a gang bang as Greening called it. I was’t like a actress in a porn movie, it was rape, and it scarred me forever. I despise and hate them all with every fibre of my body since. Greening especially took perverse pleasure in my suffering.
Montage scenes of brutal rapes in a psychedelic flashback-blurry memory style.
I was gang raped as a juvenile and as a adult. The first attacks involved five boys. The third is worse, the boys are now men and this time there were eight attackers.
The final attack lasted over 3 hours but the constant laughing, endless threats and verbal abuse was almost as bad as the actual rapes.
Nobody but Greening could make me feel as totally worthless or helpless..
Greening ruined my life…now I would end his life. I am just a victim fighting back.
20) SHELLY FAMILY MOVING. 22 YEARS AGO.-DAY
Shelly’s family, mom, SHARON TAYLOR (38)but weathered beyond her years and dad,GEORGE TAYLOR (43), a scruffy chain smoking skinny little runt who looks like George Roper from the UK Sit-com George And Mildred is not a happy man. Uptight and angry, and 13 yo Shelly moving from East London to Stanhope, a new town in Essex. Tree lined streets and houses with gardens, a world away from the terraced houses of East London.Family moves boxes, GEORGE inaudibly barks orders at the others.
Dad was worried about me having a black boyfriend, or worse, in his mind, a black baby.
21) INT. 1979.SHELLY’S HOME.BANK HOLIDAY.-DAY
George sits over a table of empty beer cans, head bowed in prayer.
God, please make it rain and ruin those nig nogs at The Notting Hill Carnival.
George gets up and goes to the bathroom.
INT BATHROOM-DAY -1986
George inadvertently catches a glimpse of a Bob Marley poster on Shelly’s bedroom wall in the next room.
Sharon get over here.
His wife races to the room. She nervously stares at husband.
George hits her around head.
Did you know about this?
Sharon holds head silently.
Did you know about this fucking picture on your daughter’s wall?
You didn’t think of telling me?
Sharon bites her nails.
What if my friends knew about this, what if they saw it.
How often do they go into Shelly’s room?
What the fuck is my daughter doing with a picture of a black bloke on her bedroom wall?
It’s Bob Marley, all her friends like him.
Well I don’t.
George rips the poster from the wall then spots Bob Marley cassette on her dressing table, throws it to the floor and stamps on it. George heads downstairs into the cramped kitchen and grabs a can of lager from the fridge and inaudibly grumbles and curses under his breath.
She is gonna get it, I’m gonna give her the biggest rollocking of her life. Bloody embarrassing, we’re moving. Don’t you say a word. I ain’t having no fucking black grandchild, I ain’t having this.
For god’s sake, George, it’s a picture, she ain’t sleeping with him.
You? Questioning my authority?
He gulps down a second can of extra strong lager.
Next your be telling me you like Bob Marley.
George slaps his wife around the face.
SHELLY O.S (V.O)
Mum said the media calls it The White Flight. According to my mum, within hours of him ripping up the poster they were sitting in the estate agents. My Dad, very old-fashioned, vile bigot and a self-confessed fascist thought voting National Front was patriotic! He boasted of marching alongside East End dockers in support of Tory MP Enoch Powell.
22) INT. BEDROOM. 1996. PAUL GREENING’S HOME.-EVENING
Eight-year-old Paul Greening shivers and listens as his parents argue from the next room. MOM GREENING, 46, curvy, button up cardigan over floral dress is crying. DAD GREENING, 48, tough ex-con looking with stick and poke tattoos on knuckles is shouting and swearing.
Because you was in prison for 5 years, I lied about the dates! When you got out I was already 3 weeks pregnant with Paul. I’m sorry.
So who is the fucking dad? You fucking slag.
He slaps her and pushes her to the floor.
I was lonely. It was the first time I had been out for a drink. He was buying bottles of champagne and paying me lots of attention. I had a bit too much to drink and we ended up in his hotel room. We had sex and everything was fine.
Oh of course it was a…… Married woman fucking a complete fucking stranger.
I meant everything was, er, er, what I expected to happen, its why I went to his room. I admit that… but then his friend, who I’d seen but hadn’t spoken to in the bar entered the room. Look, he started grabbing me. I asked him to stop he wouldn’t. I asked John for help and he just laughed, then they both raped me.
Young Paul Greening watches as his dad pulls at his mother’s clothes. Mr Greening rapes his wife as Paul crouches, unseen, in the corner, witnessing the event.
23) INT. DAY ONE. 1996. GABLE BROOK COMPREHENSIVE. ASSEMBLY HALL-DAY
Shelly goes to the front trying to make eye contact with her new teacher, Paul Greening, sits at the back of the hall. The girls sitting behind her laugh so loud. She turns around and CHRISSIE HUDSON, a gobby girl with the build of a ballet dancer and stare of a heavyweight boxer and is surrounded by a group of other girls, their clothes mirror Chrissie.
We know what Paul Greening did to you.
Their eyes meet for a split second.
She mouths silently before turning away and waving to the Greening sitting in the back row.
Maybe all new girls were treated the same. Was it just a sick form of initiation? I had given Greening, the go-ahead to continue and there was no stopping him, and the older I got the worse it got. Every day…..I was so scared, I’d let him do it to me in private and humiliate me in public. You see, Greening’s two elder brothers controlled our housing estate, and he ran the school. I was cornered.
EXT. PLAYGROUND- DAY.
Paul Greening, runs behind two older boys, JOHN GREENING 17, white T-shirt, closely cropped hair, though shaggy on top, and KYLE GREENING, 16, wearing obvious oversized hand-me-downs from John. Paul tries to keep up with his two older brothers who slap him about. Paul pauses and seeing a young, pretty girl playing, runs up to her to taunt her.
That’s right, call me, the skinhead Reggie Kray mate, so you better give me the dosh now or I kick your head in Kabbich.
It was either my looks that offended him or in some bizarre way turned him on.
24) EXT. PLAYGROUND. 1996.
Lunchtime 16 year-old greening is holding court with all his mates.
That new girl is my gonna be my plaything.
Leave it out , she looks nice , what’s she done to you?
She’s gives me a hard on.
He laughs, all his gang join in the laughter.
No leave her alone, she’s alright she’s in the same class as my sister.
Another word from you Brownie and ya out the gang and I’ll try it on with ya sister. Want that?
Gang of boys cornering Shelly, shelly is violated in many different outfits, She is violated with different haircuts showing the passage of time.
I was the perfect victim, new kid in town and no friends. A non-person with no feelings, no rights. Most, feared Greening, but some of his gang actually liked him. He gave them status, power, easy pickings and access to girls like me. They also had cash, taking protection money from vulnerable kids.
Paul Greening and his gang get their kicks from hurting people. I spent six years being humiliated and assaulted on a almost daily basis.
He raped me at 13 on a weekly basis for the next two years before I became gang territory, he groomed and controlled me the same way muslim pedophile gangs targeted underage girls in the North of England.
I was to meet behind the school sports hall, back of the park, in garages, empty buildings, or worse, his house meant his parents were gone and brothers could turn up at any time and he always took great pleasure in freaking me out with that threat.
On one occasion his older brothers and friends did turn up.
I was a 15-year-old girl against a violent bunch of 20-year-olds.
Harrowing, hard to talk about to this day.
I was powerless to stop him, and he saw me as the perfect victim, an only child with no big brothers or a Father to protect me.
Dad was a horrible small-minded and racist bigot. A bully who treated my mum like shit. In many ways he was very similar to Paul Greening.
Chauvinistic, homophobic, selfish, arrogant and violent towards women.
As a child I thought he was big and powerful, but as a adult I saw him for what he was.
A skinny little runt with lots to say behind closed doors but never had the guts to repeat it in public.
25) INT. 1996. LIVING ROOM. SHELLY’S HOME_EVENING
George , staggering and swearing, obviously drunk..staggers around the room ranting.
Hang all the blacks, gas all the jews and burn ‘em.
He shouts loud at the TV which is playing Top Of The Pops and singers wearing make-up.
David Bowie ….psssshhhhh—-and Boy George ……And all the queers.
He sits in his armchair, sits up like an army general, wearing Tesco jeans, a string vest and tatty carpet slippers.
Fucking sissies, potty freaks! Fuck em’ all.
Montage: George drinking beer, chain smoking fags and 20 second sex romps with his wife Sharon and it’s done.
The only true love of his life was Adolf Hitler . The Fuhrer was his political guru and Bernard Manning his favorite comedian.
When I was a kid there were signs in Bed & Breakfast hotels, shops and pubs all over London saying NO dogs, NO Blacks and NO Irish.
They were the good old days.
I hate all immigrants which why we’re moving out of the East End and that is that!. It ain’t London anymore.
He didn’t love me and I hated how he treated my mum and his racist view of the world.
But I hated him for moving me out of East London
I’m a self-confessed serial killer and I’m proud of that fact but I ain’t a hypocrite, which is why I never attended his funeral, never visited his grave.
26) INT. AUTUMN 2018. SHELLY’S LIVING ROOM._DAY
Shelly is full of depression and anger. Haunted by devastating memories of her childhood, recurring nightmares, awake or asleep, she can’t escape seeing the face of Paul Greening. He’s always been lurking in the back of her mind, but now he’s at the forefront and on her TV.
When I tried to sleep? I think it’s some kind of psychiatric disorder when you have more then one personality, or hear multiple voices in your head.
I’d hear voices reminding me of the past, and others chastising me for not getting revenge.
I wanted to forget. Amnesia would be nice, I just couldn’t clear my mind. Did he rape my head, too?
I couldn’t contain my anger forever.
Shelly watches, blankly as TV is blaring on about historical sex crimes being reported on TV and committed by some 70’s celebs and like Weinstein, Kevin Spacey, and comparing to earlier instances like Sir Jimmy Saville, Gary Glitter and Rolf Harris that re-ignites Shellys’ nightmares and then in Shellys’ mind everything changed.
I wanted revenge, but convinced myself I’d left it too long. I genuinely believed they’d escaped justice.
27) INT. COURT.-DAY TWO.
When I saw pictures of him wearing a Tory rosette and posing with famous politicians, anger kicked in. I suffered in silence for over 20 years.
Famous men, household names I’d grown up watching on TV, were being arrested and sent to prison for historical sex crimes.
I witnessed it being reported on TV daily and then avidly reading reports in newspapers and online.
Listen, I survived against all the odds and the power was in my hands. They called me a slag, slut, a whore, but never a victim or by my name. They never saw me as a innocent girl called Shelly.
Montage: Teenage bully boys interact with their sisters, mums and girlfriends. Boys look with respect at mothers, sisters and female teachers.
Their sisters and girlfriends had names. They were called Debbie, Anna, and Sharon. I wasn’t worthy of a name.
They didn’t want to think of me as a real person. They didn’t want to think of me as being just like them.
They ruined the best days of my life. They stole my childhood and destroyed my teenage years.
Tonka Shelly, they would sneer or Bonka Tonka, it was as if they didn’t have to think of me as a real person. I wasn’t worthy of such respect. I just wanted to have fun and be happy. I just wanted a fucking life. A normal childhood. Schooldays are meant to be the best days of your life. Full of happy memories, achievements and good times. Most people can look back fondly at what they call the good old days. I can’t.
28) INT. SALON. 2017.BEFORE THE KILLING SPREE-EVENING
Shelly sits in her Essex hairdressing salon, stalking the gang on Facebook and Google Earth. She looks at a calendar as if suddenly aware of the passage of time. The time has come to wipe them out and she has already tracked down Paul Greening, thanks to his love of self-publicity and high-profile career.
Shelly’s stomach turns as she stares pictures of Paul Hunter with his teenage daughters.
They were same age as when the gang were raping and abusing me. I compared photos of me at that time, wondering if Hunter even once thought of me when his daughters left home in their school uniforms.
29) She drives into Stanhope, facing her demons to find Hunter, almost choking on her can of coke as she drives past Gable Brook Comprehensive, where it all started, the park where she was first stripped and the house where she was gang raped in.
Paul Hunter is not the happily married man or doting dad he portrays on Social Media. Shelly befriends a hooker from a local Escort Agency.
Apart from Greening on television I had not seen any of the gang since the last attack. I never returned to Stanhope. It was a mixture of fear and embarrassment that stopped me going back. I even stayed away from my Father’s funeral.
I never forgot the suffering of my teenage years and the suffering of my schooldays.
After seeing the fat, ugly Greening on TV something in my head clicked.
I wanted to know what the rest of the gang looked like now. Unluckily for John Hunter, I found him first on Facebook.
EXT. GENERIC STREET UNDER STREET LAMPS-NIGHT
Shelly confronts a seemingly underage prostitute in red dress, extreme stilettos and fishnets secured by a visible garter belt.
I’m a Private Investigator hired by Hunter’s wife to obtain evidence for his divorce.
So what’s that got to do with me?
Shelly presses a $20 in prostitute’s hand.
I understand he has an addiction for women on the street. Give Hunter my number and tell him there is a new girl in town.
Gimme another 20 and I’ll see what I can do.
Hunter calls her cellphone. They meet at Premier Inn, on the outskirts of Stanhope.
Cheap and discreet, tucked away from the main road. Shelly goes to his room masquerading as Maxine. Hunter has no idea she was the teenage girl he’d seen naked and raped so many times.
I felt sick and disgusted when he kissed me on the cheek and put his hand on my waist. But couldn’t show it. I just smiled and pretended I wanted to be there. Time had not been kind to him. He`d lost his looks, his hair but not his arrogance.
Take off your clothes and hurry up. I’m not paying a penny without seeing the goods.
It doesn’t work like that. I am going.
John throws bills on the floor as if to a dog. Shelly doesn’t react but smiles at him through gritted teeth.
I have to admit I felt empowered to answer back, no longer that terrified teenage girl. Instead of handing the money over, the arrogant bastard throws a wad of notes onto the floor. I hated undressing but had to convince him I was genuine. He wanted a whore so I had to behave like one. When I removed my party dress I felt like a slut and looked like a tart in my tacky black underwear but I was playing a role, a game I had to play.
I couldn’t stop him looking, but no way was he going to touch me.
I smiled like a beauty contestant and moved like a lap dancer.
I could tell by the movement in his baggy y-fronts that he was getting aroused. The fat bastard really believed he was moments away from fucking me. As I removed my bra I blurted out.
I’m not Maxine, I’m Shelly Taylor.
Hunter stares blankly.
I don’t care if you’re Maxine, Taylor or Shelley, just get your fucking nickers off.
The bastard had wiped my name from his memory. He’d forgotten the 6 years of hell he’d put me through. I felt no embarrassment as I stood there half-naked pretending to be a hooker. This is because I knew what was about to happen.
I’m Taylor Shelley.
So what, you’ve already said that.
I’m Shelley Taylor. Paul Greening.
Hunters face expresses shock, then confusion, bewilderment, but no guilt.
Hunter is lost for words.
When I pulled out the knife I could smell the fear dripping from his pores and it turned me on. Not just sexually but I felt empowered.
Shelly plunges the knife into his chest and keeps on stabbing until she is out of breath.
SHELLY V.O (CONT’D)
I had to tell someone as in my mind I’d done such a wonderful and noble thing. I was standing over his body wearing nothing but a thong knowing that his last wish was for me to remove it. As he was dead I removed them, it was symbolic and my way of taunting him.
When I phoned Harry I was no longer Shelley Taylor, the victim.
I was an avenger who would soon become a serial killer.
Shelly dresses, she cannot stop smiling, the genie is out of the bottle and she wants to do it again.
SHELLY V.O (CONT’D)
It felt so good seeing one of the gang who’d raped me lying dead in a pool of blood. I placed a photograph of the Stanhope football team beside the body and left the room. I was looking forward to celebrating with Harry and becoming a serial killer.
There is blood on her finger, the blood of her first kill. She puts the finger to her lips, she smiles, it tastes sweet and feels good.
The blonde beauty in sexy black underwear does not look like a typical hitman, but knows she has what it takes to become a killing machine. She dances over the naked body of Paul Hunter, still warm as she phones Harry Harris.FIX
She is extremely calm as she talks to Harry.
I’ve done it babe, all done. One down seven to go.
I’ll be honest, it was an enjoyable experience, I was in control, it was my game, I made the rules and for the first time I called the shots.
After the first kill it wasn’t about just revenge, it became an addiction. A habit to feed.
Knowing I had the ability to kill made the rest so much easier because I knew I had it in me.
I love the look of fear in dead Hunters’ eyes and the power I felt pumping through my veins.
A mixture of adrenalin and power.
I hope people accept that I wasn’t born evil. I was the victim of circumstances.
I could not silence the inner voices. Seeing Paul Greening on TV and reading about Jimmy Saville and celebrity sex abusers turned up the volume.
A year before my killing spree I heard voices in my head urging me to kill.
They convinced me.
I convinced myself that if I didn’t get revenge I’d go mad.
The first killing was so easy and I never doubted that I’d get away with it..
EXT. CATCRACKER PUB. BILLY BISHOP-MORNING
The landlord of the pub, Billy Bishop (35) burly, in plaid utilitarian shirt and black trousers fumbles with dirty glasses from a successful pub night the night before when he hears a knock at the door
He suggested 9am, and I agreed as I knew the pub would be empty.
The pub was opposite the park where so many times I’d been stripped or raped by the gang.
It brought back so many bad memories that I couldn’t wait to remind him that we had met. It was hard to keep my emotions under control.
Billy opens large wooden door with a big smile on his face and gestures to Shelley to enter,
Hello darling- applying for the barmaid position, yeah? You look like you’ll do just fine- Right this way.
I followed him into the Saloon Bar and, at first I felt guilty to do something behind his back but I got over it quickly-without warning, I plunged the knife into his back.
As he fell to the ground, I stabbed him in the liver, kidney and finally the heart.
I placed a photograph of the football team behind the bar and made my exit.
This time there was no phone call to Harry. I wasn’t euphoric I felt calm and collected.
It wasn’t fun or exciting like my first kill, it was just something I had to do.
To make sure I killed again and didn’t lose the urge I topped up my anger.
I confronted my past by taking a stroll in the park.
I walked past the bushes where I was first stripped naked by the gang and stood outside the football changing rooms where they raped me.
It had the effect I wanted and 48 hours later I claimed my third victim.
CUT TO: PRESENT DAY
EXT.TAXIS WAITING ONBUSY STREET-LATE NIGHT
Peter Brown (39), a taxi cab driver, speaks