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I walk over to him, my footsteps echoing off the walls, and I lean down to hold the pliers to his hand. Tonight will be the exception to my rules, I'll make the floor red with his blood. The sound of ripping flesh echoes as I forcefully pull off the first fingernail. I try my best to ignore his screams as I finish up. The palpable fear in the air gives me a rush of euphoria. Everything within me quiets, and I work on the rest of his nails.
“She already loves me. She just doesn’t know it yet,” I whisper as he grunts under the pain. I walk over to the table, disconnect the tubes, and move the bucket over to the side where it can’t fall over. Using the same pliers, I use one hand to hold her mouth open and pull out each tooth with the other.
Entering the small room, I put her teeth in a dish with rubbing alcohol and pour some onto Peter’s hands. As I move to the table to pick up Sylvie, he screams out about what an asshole I am. Dark laughter erupts from my chest, as I hoist her over my shoulder. I walk with Sylvie to the brick enclosed room, the place I keep all the bodies until I’m ready to bury them, covering her with a mixture of lime and lye.
“What are you going to do, tough guy? Haul me up onto the table and drain me of blood? Are you some sort of vampire freak?” He peppers me with questions. I stand in front of him and think about how I want to kill him.
“Blood is rich in phosphorous, potassium, and nitrogen, which is really great for plant growth. My garden grows better than anyone else’s.”
“You are a freak. Marla will never love you. I’ve been her landlord for two years, and I know her more than you ever will.”
Launching toward him, I viciously grip his chin with my hand. The fury rolls through me, the words on my lips stop before they can come out. “You aren’t worth my breath, and you are too dense to understand our love.”
I get up and walk to the small room and pick up my saw, put back the pliers, and grab the knife. As I stalk back toward him, I slide the knife across his face. Once for the disrespect he’s shown me, and twice for the complications he has added to my life. I continue cutting him for the disrespect of Marla until his face is in tattered ribbons. His flesh hangs loosely from the sides of his head, the muscles stare back at me.
“Is that the best you got?” he croaks out. I trail the knife down what’s left of his chin, wanting to cut out his vocal cords, but wanting to prolong his suffering for daring to touch my woman.
When I start the power saw, his eyes bulge and urine soaks his grimy pants. I lower the blade to his shoulder, cutting through the muscles and tendons as I push harder to get through the bone. Vibrations of the saw run through my arms, and blood and bone spray around. I finish the other arm and when I turn off the blade I stare at my beautiful work. Once I’m done, I drag the pieces of his body to the concrete formation by the stairs. “Fuck you both. Rot in hell.”
As I mop up the blood, using hydrogen peroxide and going over it with water, I listen to music. Each song relates back to Marla in some way. She consumes everything I do. After the tools are clean and the floors are better than they were, I sprinkle powder to soak up the urine and blood. Since it’s past midnight, I lock up and stroll into the house.
I get into the shower, the comforting heat of the water beads against my skin, washing the blood from my skin and scrubbing the pieces of flesh and bone out of my hair. As I enter mybedroom, I look over my fake social media accounts to see if she’s posted anything, but there is nothing. She doesn’t post often, but when she does, it means everything to me. I miss her. I need her as much as someone needs their next high.
Seven
Marla
When I collect my number, a letter is placed in my hand. I'm preparing myself for my first fine, money is always an issue and I worry further. As I open the envelope, a thin piece of paper flutters to the ground. A hundred dollars is theconsequence of missing an appointed day. I clutch the paper tightly as I make my way to the back of the room. A sense of unease washes over me as I take in all the unfamiliar faces today, my mind wandering to the ones who were here with me on the last day.
I push the letter into my purse, and a quick check of my phone shows many texts from Mother. She’s in the love bombing stage, the point in time where she pretends to love me so I’ll come crawling back. I know I will, but this time stings, not because of the words or her hands on my skin but because all I did was ask to be treated like the adult I am.
When I swallow the lump in my throat, the tears fight their way to the surface, and I slump down on the floor, lean my back against the wall, and tilt my face to the ceiling. I close my eyes and try to push away the overwhelming sadness that threatens to make me cry. No matter how hard she tries, Mother won’t ever fully break me today. I'll hold back my tears and keep my dignity in public.
The scent of his laundry soap fills my nostrils, I smell him before I see him. His shoulder pushes against mine as he sits beside me. “Missed you the other day. Where were you?”
I glance over, and take in his tattooed hands, fingers bouncing on his jean-clad knees. My gaze travels up towards his face, his dark hair is parted on the side but still messy, his tongue runs over his lip, and his dark brown eyes have thick lashes that I hadn’t noticed before. “Things came up.” I turn my head to look away.
Sebastian’s fingers shoot out and grasp my jaw, turning my chin to look at him. His sudden touch is like fire. I can’t remember the last time someone touched me and I felt something.
“What things?” His eyes stare deep into mine like he can see my dark, twisted soul and he isn’t scared.
“Shitty things. Don’t worry, I got my fine.”
His fingers linger for a moment longer before dropping. “I’m not worried about your fine. I’m worried about you,” his whisper brings me comfort. I’ve only ever wanted someone to give a shit about me.
“Do you want to go for a walk after this?” he asks. I stare straight ahead, and the emotional turmoil rolls over my body. I desire to know this guy, but what will it cost him? What’s the point in anything if I’ll never get the help?
“Wasn’t a marriage proposal. We’ll save that for at least the fifth date.” When I look in his direction, his tongue is in his cheek and his eyebrows are raised.
“Deal. No marriage until at least the fifth date.” My lips curve into a smile I can’t hold back.
“Nah, I said a proposal by the fifth date. Marriage? Phew, that’s gotta be like eighth date stuff.”
I shake my head, and my chest shakes from the struggle to keep the laugh deep inside. Sebastian is a breath of fresh air. It’s like I’ve been drowning my entire life, and he’s come into my world to give me the air to breathe again.
The announcement comes over the loudspeaker like it does every single time I’m here. I glance down at my number and see I was only five away from being able to have an intake. I walk to the desk and swipe my debit card for the fine, the progress I’ve made saving money sliced in half.
“Where do you want to walk to?” Sebastian asks as we walk out the door. I shrug my shoulders. Never having gone anywhere here in town, I wouldn’t know where to start.
