The Model Hunter

By Rich Cole

Mark Bentley will do anything to be more than just an assistant at a creative agency. He's willing to fake his entire life just to pretend to live the life he wants. He will put himself into debt to afford expensive clothes and impress the beautiful models he works with. His eye is on Samantha, a glamorous but slightly unhinged model who is just as obsessed with fame and status as Mark is. They seem like a match made in heaven, if not for Samantha's drug lord ex who is still after her, and will destroy Mark out of revenge.

But their lives are thrown into a frenzy when models start going missing. Their lives become even more chaotic when it is discovered that a murderer is targeting models across London. Is Mark the one responsible? Or will he help the police uncover the real killer?

A gripping cat and mouse chase crime thriller full of more twists than a rollercoaster.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Seagull Editions
• Release date: Jul 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223679417

Book preview

Chapter One

Donna grimaced as she looked at her phone. Men were all the same. Once they found out she was a model, they pursued her relentlessly. They no longer cared about anything she said. She had tried it out before – discussing a certain topic then repeating it on the next date. Her dates never even realised she had repeated herself. Their attention was only drawn to her figure and mentally undressing her. No doubt they were imagining bragging to their friends about scoring with a model and receiving a round of high fives.

None of them knew what it was really like to work as a model. None of the other legions of girls who wanted to enter the field knew either. They saw it as all striding up the catwalk during Fashion Week and wearing expensive clothes. Donna had never even worked a Fashion Week. They didn’t realise most of the work was jobs for magazines or advertisements. It involved getting up early, spending hours in the make up chair with the practically mute make up girl, then spending hours posing in front of hot lights as the photographer snapped her over and over again. She’d liked it at first but it had taken only a few jobs to realise just how tedious it really was. She stuck with it, though. Not only because it had been so hard to break in. The money was good at least, and you needed everything you could get to survive in London. She had gotten used to going in each day, doing her job, then going home to put her feet up and binge watch something. It was a job like any other, not remotely glamorous or exciting. But she’d realised that was ok.

The worst part was the backstabbing and petty squabbles she received from the other girls at Mannequins, the agency she worked for. They were always fighting over who got the best jobs or worked with the most famous photographers or the biggest creative agencies. Only Donna seemed to realise that all the jobs were the same and they were nothing but contract workers. None of them could just accept that and get on with their jobs. It was difficult enough without all of them fighting like they were still in school fighting over which boys liked them best.

She almost wanted them all to be gone. The catty girls and the drooling men. She wanted to get rid of them all. Those frustrated thoughts ran through her head as she headed into the empty factory. It was just like dozens of others throughout London – abandoned for decades after manufacturing moved to third world countries. The only reason it still stood was either due to it being labelled a ‘historically important’ building or more likely because nobody else wanted the land. It was at least useful in her industry. Photographers and directors loved abandoned places for shoots. Donna never saw the appeal, but she couldn’t exactly question it. They were the creatives and she was just the pretty face.

But this old factory seemed different than the others as she pulled up her car and got out to examine it. She’d done shoots in places like this before. She’d even done night shoots before and didn’t even mind them that much as it left her with more to do during the day. But the sight of this place with its towering chimneys and broken windows sent a shiver up her spine. An actual shiver, like in horror movies.

She was just being paranoid, she told herself as she headed towards the entrance, the steel fences put there to keep people out long since knocked down and forgotten about. Last minute jobs were nothing new, and an ideal way to make extra cash. This one was no different. She just had to go in there, put on whatever gaudy clothes they gave her, and do whatever poses the photographer told her to make. Just another night of living the dream.

As she gazed around, she realised what was freaking her out so much; she was the only one there. Usually a shooting location, even a small one, had vans full of equipment parked outside and people coming and going to set things up. But there was nothing else there. Not a single car or person around.

She checked the e-mail from the agency on her phone. This was definitely the right location. It was difficult to miss a huge, abandoned factory. And she was on time, not fashionably late as people often assumed models were. Was she the first one here? That was impossible. The crew were usually there setting up for hours before she arrived. They usually swept her straight to the make up chair and the changing area the moment she arrived. The only thing accompanying her out here was the moon.

Everything about this situation said she should turn back. She was smart and knew not to put herself in dangerous situations. But she also couldn’t take the risk just in case she was mistaken. As much as she complained about the modelling lifestyle, she still needed the money. Rent was going up and she’d heard that food prices were going to increase soon, too. Contrary to popular belief, models did in fact need to eat just like everybody else.

Well, there was clearly nobody else around, Donna told herself as she inspected the factory grounds. Not even the drug addicts bothered with this place. It was a big building so maybe she had just pulled up at the wrong place. She would inspect the building once just to check she was definitely in the wrong place before going home.

So, she ducked through the entrance, the doors long since rotted away. It was completely dark. She had to use her phone to see.

Hello? she called out to the dark. Kiran, are you there? Samantha? If this is a prank, I’m leaving.

Nobody answered. There weren’t even any rats scurrying around. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she saw what the factory really was – a huge, empty building with nothing but some broken glass and a dust coated floor.

Those idiots gave me the wrong address again, she grumbled as she got out her phone and started writing out a text. I swear, if this happens again then I’m switching to Moonlight.

She stopped, letting out a frightened yelp and dropping her phone. There was somebody here. Several people, in fact. They had been standing in a darkened part of the factory and she hadn’t seen them.

Jesus, you scared me, she said as she retrieved her phone and pointed it at them. Then, she saw what they really were. Mannequins, she laughed to herself. I mistook mannequins for people.

They were rather eerie, missing limbs and growing mildew. She had no idea what a bunch of old, broken mannequins were doing in a place like this. Some seamstress must have gone broke and dumped them here. Even though she knew what they were, she still had to admit they looked eerie, especially in the pale moonlight. A few of them were even wearing clothes, torn and rotted by time.

She didn’t know why, but she couldn’t help but stare at them. Maybe it was the years of decay, or maybe these were a different type of mannequin than she was used to seeing, but something about these ones seemed strange. She was used to the plasticy shine of mannequins. These ones didn’t reflect the moonlight in the way that mannequins were supposed to. It make them look almost real. She stepped slowly towards the one closest to her. This one had a head and painted face. She always hated those. In trying to make them look realistic, they always ended up looking fake and creepy. But this one, she couldn’t help but wonder...

She reached out a shaking finger, touching the mannequins face. It was hard plastic, coated in dust. She relaxed, chuckling to herself over being so silly. Of course it was just a trick of the light. It was this spooky place making her thinks he was seeing things which weren’t really there. They must have sent her here to prank her. What could be funnier than teasing the bimbo model, right? But she was far too smart to fall for things like this. That was why she was going to walk right out of here and go home before she could be freaked out any further.

Something lurched out of the dark faster than she could make out. She stopped and looked back. Was it one of the mannequins? No, that was impossible. She needed to stop believing stupid things. But had one of them moved? Was one missing? No, that was impossible too. She needed to get out of here before she had a full on screaming fit.

Donna walked faster, breaking into a run. She just needed to get out of here and into her car. Then she could drive away and put on the radio and she’d be back in reality again. This would all just be a bad dream, a stupid prank gone wrong. She was only steps away from the door. Only feet away from the light.

Hands grabbed her and pulled her arms behind her back. Human hands. She could make out pale fingers in he moonlight.

So beautiful... a honeyed voice spoke into her ear, so close that Donna could feel their breath on her skin. So pure...

The pale fingers brushed her hair back from her neck, brushing the skin as if it were made of gold. Donna tried to pull away. Every part of her said to struggle and get away. But the grip on