Written In A Day: The Treasure Chest

Graham is the type of man that any woman would be happy to take home to their parents. He is the shining star among men. Most men care only about sex and getting that quick and easy fix. But not Graham. He puts the ladies on a pedestal. They are the prize. He does anything and everything for them. He has everything a woman looks for in a man. He is charming. He is smart, funny, and good looking. Every inch of him makes the ladies swoon. From his stylish hair to his chiseled, well defined chin. The sparkle in his eyes. They shined bright, almost hypnotic, drawing in women from afar. No other man is a match to him. He is perfect in every way. He truly is the perfect man. But no man is perfect. Not even Graham. He too has his faults. Some could say it’s his undivided attention to the ladies. While women adore him waiting on them hand it foot, it can become somewhat nauseating to the countless other men who try their damnedest to meet the expectations he has brought forth. That isn’t what makes him slightly imperfect.

Men and women alike take bets, proving to the others that they know his fault. They know what makes him ungodly. But they can squabble all they want. They can lose sleep over it but they will never pinpoint what makes his like all the other shallow men in the world. The reason what makes him not the man of all women dreams is far worse than anything anyone could imagine. The thing about Graham is, he loves the ladies too much. He loves them enough to when the relationship ends, it ends badly. Graham has a habit of keeping of small memento of the women he dated. It could be sentimental for people to keep some trinket of their past loves but for Graham, he takes that old myth to a new and morbid level. He was married once but the marriage ended badly for him. His first and only wife just never saw what other women saw. She never saw him as this perfect person. He wasn’t God’s gift to women. To her, he was a womanizer and a cheat. Two years of living with a person like that, she couldn’t take it. She always felt that he never appreciated her beauty.

Graham is standing in front of the mirror. He studies his hair. He pulls at his hair, getting it to look just right. But with each tug on the right side, it sets the left side off. The process was rigorous. It takes him hours just to create the perfect look. He is very particular about how he presents himself. No woman wants a dirty, ragged hobo asking them to buy a drink for them. They don’t want the ‘I just rolled out of bed look”. They don’t want you to look messy. Hair like that isn’t going to win the women over. They want a man who knows style. They want the man to appreciate what they also take pride in. Hair is important to women. They can only hope that the man that tries his hardest to win them over takes the same pride in their hair, just as much as they do.

He takes a pair of tweezers from the medicine cabinet. Holding his breath, he steadies his hands and puts them to his nose for a quick and painful trimming. He clips on to a loose nose hair. He claps the tweezers done and with a quick yank, rips the straggler from within his nostril. He flinches. His eyes water. That doesn’t bother him. He has done this long enough that the pain doesn’t seem to phase him anymore. He goes back for another yank. Once again, it’s quick and painless. Graham leans in. He checks himself out in the mirror. He tilts his head back for a better look. It all looks good. His nostril is free from loose hairs that could become quite the distraction during his search for a date at the bar tonight.

His vanity didn’t end there. The next fifteen minutes was lengthy process of brushing his teeth, flossing, and rinsing his mouth out with a cup of mouth wash. It has always been like that. He takes pride in the inside of his mouth. His teeth were flawless. He has never had a cavity or a filling. Many people cringe when they hear the word dentist. They would high tail it out and head for the hills. But not Graham. He loves seeing the dentist. He loves his hair but he loves his teeth more. The ladies he goes out with agree. While every inch of him screams, “perfect”, it is the smile that make the ladies weak in the knees. It his bait to luring in the women.

Graham pulls a dress shirt from the closet. His shirts are color coordinated. The colors start from white and moving down the poll, the colors seem to fade from white to red, to pink, finally reaching the end at his one, black dress shirt. He never was a fan of black. He fines the color to be drab and lifeless. Walking into a bar and hitting on a women with a black shirt on will not excite the lady. She’ll see you as being boring, unexciting, and lazy. Graham tells his friends that. He tells them all the time all his rules they need to follow to land a date. From his color of shirt to wear, to the importance of a tie clip. His one rule that he forbids above all is the mixing of jeans and a dress shirt. It may look nice around the office on casual Friday’s but not when you hit the bar. Dress the part. Women know all about a man just from the clothes he wears.

Graham has too many rules. With all the rules it can boggle the mind as to how he even gets a women to talk to him, even go home with him. But he does it. He does it every time. It’s all about style. That is what he always says. Graham was stylish. He put the shirt one, button it up slowly. He stares at himself in the mirror. He talks aloud, giving himself encouraging words that boosts his confidence. He slips on a pair of black slacks. The slacks are neatly pressed. Not a single wrinkle is visible. He finishes off his outfit with a silk tie. It is a shade lighter than his blue shirt. Nothing to flashy and not bright enough to take away from the shirt.  He is ready. He looks amazing. “No women will say no tonight. Tonight will be the first night of many. In just a short time, I will have another addition to my collection. She will be perfect. She will suit me nicely.” Graham splashes on some cologne, adding the final touch to his ensemble.

Graham heads out of his house. His prized, Lexus is parked out front in his drive way. Like everything in his house, the Lexus is perfect. Graham is all about perfection. Nothing can be a miss. His house is like a museum. His walls are lined with artwork, busts sit in corners of his room, and the furniture is worth more than most of the cars his neighbors drive. He isn’t ashamed to flaunt his money around. He doesn’t worry about showing off to the neighbors or to the women he brings home. If he works hard for his money why not show it off? There is no reason to keep it locked away in some bank somewhere. Letting it sit there to collect dust, only to withdraw some it some raining day. Women like a man with money. For Graham it is just another reason to make him look like the perfect man. He is quite the catch. A women would be crazy to not spend the rest of their life with him. Even if they did chose to do so, they won’t last long. Graham isn’t marrying for love. He isn’t marry the girl for her personality. He is looking for beauty. Just by the amount of time he spends on himself, it’s easy to see that he is all about vanity. A good looking woman with a great smile and perfect skin is bound to catch his attention. If only they know what he is really after.

Graham takes his time going to the bar. He doesn’t speed. His car doesn’t know what dirt is and it has never felt what it is like to go over sixty-five miles an hour. He car is cleaned and vacuumed every other day. He’s has the car for four years but you wouldn’t know it. It looks as if he just drove it off the lot. It is just how he is. Everything is cared for. Everything he owns gets the star treatment. Nothing plays second fiddle. It’s the same with how he treats the ladies. They will be waited on hand and foot. They aren’t going to be a stories of exaggeration he tells his buddies tomorrow about, “how he nailed this fucking hot chick.” They are a princess and he is their knight in shining armor, coming to their rescue. It may be long forgotten but he is old school. He was raised to be a gentlemen. Ask him and he will tell you that chivalry is not dead. Most men just chose not to follow it. It is another quality that make the heart of a woman skip a beat.

Graham pulls his Lexus into the parking lot. While it is human nature to find the closet parking spot he opts for the spot furthest from the flock. He doesn’t take the chance of having some drunken fool dent his precious car. He doesn’t mind the extra long walk. It gives him time to think. He doesn’t need the exercise. He is already in shape. He isn’t muscular like the the men that spend all day and night in the gym. He stays in shape. Even at the gym, the ladies are getting most of their work out just from staring at him. They seem to be transfixed on his six pack and a chest that screams, “damn!” He approaches the door. Following behind him, are a group of twenty-something girls on a girl’s night out. He steps outside and pull open the door. He holds it and lets each one in first before he enters. Each girl passes by and each one takes a good look at him. From the look on their face they were awe struck. Not only is he insanely good looking, he is also a gentlemen. They giggle loudly and thank him. Inside, they quickly huddle around each other to talk about him. He knows it. He doesn’t say anything to them. He just walks away from the gaggle of horny girls to look for a women who seem a little more mature. He doesn’t have an issue with dating or hitting on the younger crowd it is more of a safety issue. He can’t just swoop one away in his arms. The other girls will be quick to describe him to the police. He can’t have that. He needs to find someone else. He needs to find someone who is there alone. Someone who will be forgetful. Someone no one will know went missing that night. Someone that will go unnoticed when he whisks them away with his charm and everything else that beams from his all, perfect existence.

Graham waves to the bartender. He orders a bourbon. Graham drops a ten and motions to the bartender to, “keep the change.” He holds the tumbler in his hand. He takes a sip and eyes his surroundings. He is like a lion stalking its’ prey. What defenseless girl will be his gazelle to the lion tonight? Which female patron will be the next victim in his one imperfection? That’s when he spots her. She is sitting alone, hidden in a dark corner of the bar. She is far from the commotion of the normal, rowdy Friday night regulars. She sits alone, sipping on a glass of wine. Her interest in the bar and the wide array of single men isn’t gripping her attention. She is too involved in a book she was ready. He finds that attractive. He fines her unique style very soothing and erotic. Why is a woman, who is obviously too classy for a hole in the wall place likes this here? Why not go somewhere a little more upscale? Why did this mysterious woman decide to come here to read when the decibel level is reaching higher than an eleven? All those questions just can’t be left unanswered. He has to make a move. He must know more about her. He wants to be the one. No, doesn’t want. She is the one. He already decided it the moment he glanced in her direction. By tomorrow, he veil of mystery will be uncovered and there will be nothing left to discover about her. He’ll let the police did the rest of the discovering. They’ll be the one to discover her body after he’s done with her.

Graham walks up to the woman with no name. He stands next to her. He doesn’t speak. He just stands there and watches her. Before he speaks, the woman turns around with a curled lip. “Excuse me, sir. Do you mind finding somewhere else to lurk about? You’re blocking out my light.”

He smiles, chuckles even. “My sincere apologize.” He points to the sit across from her. “Do you mind?” There is an awkward silence between them. She isn’t waiting company tonight. She already has all the company she needs. It was suppose to be a night between her, a good book, and a bottle of wine. But she felt some sort of connection. She doesn’t want to be rude. She is obviously attracted to him. She isn’t the only one. The horny girls from earlier have their eyes still locked on him. They just couldn’t look away. They know they have no chance since he is about to sit next to the lonely woman. Still, they can dream, and dream they did. They whisper to each other the things they would do to him. Each one tries to top the other with sexual acts more bizarre and more vial than the one before.

If you want.” She sips her wine and goes back to reading. She doesn’t look up but speaks to him, “You’re a little out of place to be in here?” Graham looks at his shirt and tie. He brushes his hand down his chest. He smiles and coughs into his hand.

I can say the same thing.” He keeps his mouth cover and points to her with his index finger. “Couldn’t find an all night library?” Graham is always there to break the ice. He thinks he is witty. He just hopes the mystery woman thinks the same.

She pulls her nose out of the book and looks at him. She smiles. It pleases Graham. She takes another sip of her wine. Graham’s claws were still hidden. He isn’t quite ready to pounce. She sits the book on the table and closes it. “Okay, sir. You have my attention. You have the floor.”

He extends his arm out to her. “The name is Graham. What’s yours?” They shake hands.

I’m Michelle. It’s nice to meet you Graham.”

Graham and Michelle talk about the mundane. They discussed the weather, current events, and the atmosphere around the bar. Graham doesn’t want to jump right into personal questions. He is working his way to that. He wants her to feel comfortable enough to discuss that information. The two continue talking. It was apparent that they like each other. They like each but for different reason. Michelle is falling for his charm and his looks and Graham is seeing her as a prime victim. He is liking her seclusion from the rest of the bar and the knowledge that when he takes her back to his place, and he will, that no one is going to do a double take when they head out together. The horny girls will be jealous but that’s all. They don’t know anything about him other than him being handsome and a gentlemen. They only wish that the bookish woman were them but if they knew what he planned on doing to the bookworm tonight, they would have never made cat calls or whistled every time he glanced their way.

“I just moved here.” Graham’s eyes lit up. The sparkle in his eye was brighter than normal. This tiny bit of information is music to his ears. This is the woman he is going to kill tonight. No one will miss her. She has no friends here and no one will suspect her missing. They will just assume she moved back home. “My job had an opening down here. I just needed a change. I wanted a fresh start. You ever have that dream? To just run off to somewhere else where no one knows you? To start anew. To be someone else entirely.” She keeps rambling. It is the wine talking. The bottle is nearly gone. Her brain is turning off and all the decisions she would normally make are going out the window. In just an hour or so, she will be willing to do just about anything. “Look at me. I’m just rambling on and one. I’m just happy to be here. I just want to restart my life and be the person I always wanted to be.

It’s okay. I think it’s nice to get away. I’ve moved a few times in my life. I just feel like after some of the bad decisions I made, I needed to escape and do the same as you. What is it you said? To start anew?” Graham has moved a few times in his lifetime. He’s been in three different states in the last four months. Each move had its’ reason. He never wanted to take the chance of fouling up and having the law put an end to all his work. He swears he is going to stop soon. He just needs a few more souvenirs. If he can control himself tonight, Michelle will be the last one. But there is no telling if the thirst will end tonight. It could be flowing through his body tomorrow morning.

You see those girls over there?” Michelle leans in close to Graham. Her body is almost covering the table. She crawls even further onto the table. She presses her face on his. She blows into his ear. “Those girls have been staring at you all night.” She eyes the same girls Graham encountered earlier this evening. The look on their faces were those of disgust. They want to be Michelle. They want to be the girl he is wooing. They want to be the center of attention. Michelle is liking it. She is liking the fact that Graham, this perfect man picked her out of everyone else in the bar. She doesn’t know what attracted him to her but with the current state she is in, it doesn’t bother her. She is planning on going home with him. With how he looks, it’s only certain that he will perform the same way in bed. He is perfect. He is perfect in every way.

Don’t mind them. They are just kids. I want a real woman. I don’t come to the bar to babysit. Besides, you have something they don’t.

She pulls her head back and looks at him straight in the face. “And what’s that?”

He leans in and kisses her. “Me.”

Michelle returns with a kiss. She bites down on his lip. She doesn’t look at him but glares at the girls across the room. The look in her eyes tell the girls to ‘get lost” and to “find another man.” Eventually, the girls give up. The grab their purses and leave the bar together but still alone. The girls left and Michelle knew she won. She now has Graham all to herself. The kissing continues. It is getting more passionate. Under their heavy breathing, Michelle asks him about going back to his place. She wants a little more privacy. This is what Graham wants. This is the moment he has been looking forward to all night. He found the perfect souvenir to add to his collection. She is going to be a fine addition to the rest.

The two of them head towards the door. Like always, he opens the door. “Such a gentleman.” Michelle smiles and walks, almost floats, out of the bar. With being inebriated, she is still stunned that this ravishingly, good looking man wants to take her home. She had her doubts about moving away. She was worried that she will fall into the same rut and routine she’s been in for years. But meeting Graham reassured her that good things are coming her way. Tonight disapproved of all the bad thoughts she had about breaking away from the normal and repetitive life she held onto for years.

The drive to his place is a quiet one. They said very little. Most of their talking was done at the bar. Graham is too busy thinking about his plans for the night. Michelle is just too nervous to talk. This is her first time going home with someone from the bar. She always played it safe. But being in a new town and trying to reinvent herself, she decided to do the opposite of the things she would normally do. Normally, she would tell men that hit on her to leave her alone but not this time. Not the new and improved, Michelle. She plays by a whole new set of rules.

They arrive at his house. He opens the door. Instantly, she is blasted with astonishment. His house was breathtaking. “He’s loaded…” She says silently to herself. They stand by the door, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. His hands moved franticly around her body. She removes her shirt and reveals a silk bra underneath. He squeezes her breasts. Michelle lets out a loud moan. If her breast could scream out, they would scream out, “we’re real.” The excitement is getting to her. Her hands are pressed against her waist. Slowly, she moves her hands under his shirt, feeling his abs and working her way up to his chest. Graham pulls her arms down. She tries to move them back but he pushes them down again. “Hold on.” He says to her. Michelle stands still, watching him as he removes his ties and takes his shirt off. He tosses them on a nearby chair. He whispers, “Okay.” Michelle runs her hands across his bare chest. It’s rock hard. Even with him wearing a shirt, she can tell he works out and that he was in great shape. She just didn’t know how well of shape he really is.

Let’s go upstairs.” Graham says to Michelle. They break free from each other. Michelle stands for a moment to catch her breath. It is just what she expected. He is doing everything right and he knows exactly where and how to work her body. “Follow me. “ He extends his arm out to her. She grabs a hold and the both of them ascend the stairs. Michelle is a bit nervous. She isn’t very familiar with one night stands and doesn’t want to perform poorly. She wants to meet his expectations. If she makes any mistake tonight, it could be the end of it. There may be no second date. While she is quite aware this is probably just a one night stand, she still hopes for something more. She is madly attracted to Graham and to be with a man like this, will mean the world to her.

Graham pulls her close. They are standing outside his bedroom. They kiss again. Michelle is pinned against the door. Graham frees one hand to find and open the door. The door opens and the weight from them both push the door open fully. They tumble into the room and fall on the ground. As they fool around, Graham removes his slacks, tossing them aside. He lays on the floor dressed only in a pair of boxers. He climbs on top of Michelle. Their bare bodies rub against each other. Michelle continues to moan, getting louder the faster and more hands on he goes. She unbuttons her pants and shimmies them off. Her panties match the silk bra she is wearing. Graham crawls back on to her. He licks his lips. Michelle has no idea that the night she was expecting is about to go south. Everything from the moment he approached her was all just a con. It was all just an act to get her to his house so he could add her to his collection. She’ll be another souvenir he can add to his treasure chest. He squeezes tightly on her neck, cutting off her air. She gags. She tries to pry his arm from her neck but nothing. He is too strong. She can’t free herself from his grip.  He smiles at her and winks. “Don’t worry, Michelle It’ll all be over soon.”

Michelle kicks and throws her arms about. Still nothing. “Tell you one thing, Michelle. You’re a fighter.” He grips tighter. In mere seconds, the flailing of her arms and the kicking of her legs stop. The last ounce of air escapes from her lungs. As quick as it started, Michelle was dead. Graham stands up. He looks at Michelle. “Such a sweet girl.” He grabs Michelle by the legs and drags her down the hall to another room he dubbed his office. It wasn’t a normal office filled with bookshelves and computers. It was a sewing room. There are no windows in the room. No one can see or know what goes on in that room. If someone would ever find out, it will be the end of everything.

Graham drags her body inside. He picks up her limp body and lays in on a surgical table. Opening a drawer, Graham pulls out a scalpel. He studies a diagram he created to know exactly where to make the first incision. He presses the scalpel down and begins to cut not into her flesh but just enough to skin her. It’s a lengthy process but all great work takes him. Rome wasn’t built in a day and creating another one of kind souvenirs won’t take a day either. With each section he cuts off, he numbers them with a letter and number. Her abdomen is numbered, A5.

Graham works all through the night. Stacks of bloody skin begin to stack high on an adjoining table nearby. Michelle’s body is looking more like the diagrams you see in anatomy class. The muscle diagram of a human with his arms spread out and it’s head tilted to the left. Graham has no interest in he organs. He has never tried human flesh. He find the idea of cannibalism sickening. He won’t even store the body in a basement lair when he’s done with it. He’ll dispose of it and let the cops take care of the rest. He’s only interested in their skin. It’s his way to remember the women he kills. Killers like to keep some sort of souvenir of each victim the kill. Graham keeps their skin. He always refers to their skin as a souvenir but it’s not. It’s part of a bigger and more twisted plan.

After hours of work, Michelle is flayed. He is already soaking the pieces of skin in water, rinsing off the blood from each section. Each piece needs to be blood free. It’s easier to work with. With the pieces washed off, he begins to lay pieces onto a table, reassembling them back in to order. He places the abdomen down. “A5 is connected to A6…” He pulls a needle and thread and sews the two pieces together. He looks for the next piece. A7 is sewn to the first two pieces. The process continues till the entire body, at least the front side is all attached by needle and thread. The skin is given another wipe down with a damp cloth to remove any traces of remaining blood. For Graham, everything has to be perfect. If it isn’t, the skin would be tossed and the hunt for another souvenir will start all over again. Graham sets the first section of the skin aside. He starts work on the backside. Like before, each section is marked with a letter and a number. He sews the pieces, putting them together like it’s a puzzle. All his hard work pays off when he says that final piece on.

He picks up the front side and drapes it over him. He sewed the pieces together to form a shirt. He admires himself in the mirror. He smiles, twirling around a bit. It is looking perfect. While it may or may not be perfect, the souvenir isn’t quite finished. He still has to attach the face. Once that is done, Michelle’s skin will be ready to add to the collection. It’ll be ready to be added to the treasure chest he has filled with the countless other women he’s picked up and made outfits out of. When he began this strange hobby, the outfits were crude. They weren’t sewn together properly. Some were still drenched in blood. But with each new girl he murdered, it gave him another chance to master his craft. With Michelle, he believes this will be the one. He believes this will be his greatest work. He just has to get the face right. For some reason, he never gets the face right. The top piece and the bottom piece are finished. The upper body is made out to be worn as a shirt and the bottom section to be worn like a pair of pants. The outfit is just about done. His last effort to creating this masterpiece is the face. He wants it to work. He wants to stop the killing. But he can’t. He can’t stop till he gets it right. It means a lot to him.

Graham works slowly on the face. He begins to sew the pieces together. Still unsure of how well it will work out, he get an idea of taking a bust from the living room to use as an aid. His stroke of genius works out wonderfully for him. The face and head seem to be looking like a real face. He always had trouble with the hair. This time around, he cut it off. He didn’t shave it. He needs to keep the hair somewhat intact if he plans on reattaching it after everything is done.  Graham steps back. He examines the face. It worked this time around. It looks perfect. With the face, it is to be worn like a mask. Once Graham gets the hair back on, the project will be done and after years of failed attempts, he can finally show it off. He can finally show that he did it all for her. It’s always been for her. She just never knew it.

Graham works diligently to sew the hair back into the scalp. Some of his first attempts he tried using a wig but it looked fake. It didn’t capture the real beauty of the whole outfit. It must be all or nothing. Even the pubic hair was sewn back into place. It is Michelle alright. It is everything inch of her. The rest of her is resting on the floor, wrapped up in six heavy duty trash bags. The sun is out now. There is no chance of him dumping the body today without being seen. He’ll just have to wait till tomorrow. At least today, he can finally show off the work of art he’s been working at for years. He just hopes she likes it.

Graham travels down the hallway to a room at the other end of the house. It is the old master bedroom. It is the room his wife and him shared before she ended the marriage and before he ended her life. The room is filled with potpourri, scented candles, and car air fresheners. He uses anything to hide the smell of a four year old decaying corpse in his house. Graham walks in, holding the outfit made of human skin. “Honey! Look! I think I finally got it right!” He walks to her side. Sitting on the bed, he leans in and kisses her. “You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.” He smiles and laughed, almost like she was talking to him.

He is ecstatic. He pulls his wife up, sliding the shirt over her head and her arms. Amazingly enough, the shirt was a perfect fit. He grabs the lower section of the outfit and like the shirt, he puts the skin pants on her. “Perfect!” Graham slides his finger down her chest and fingers his wife. He’s done it before with her decaying body but with her in this new skin, it seem different. It seems so much better. It excited him. The final test in this whole project is the face. He just hopes it fits perfectly. It has to. There can’t be any error. He pulls the skin mask over his dead wife head. A quick tug and the mask fell nicely on top of his wife face. It took a few tugs and little more adjusting but it is perfect. Everything fits perfectly. That’s how he likes it. He likes everything to be perfect. He isn’t finished. He is but there are a few final touches to the whole outfit. Graham takes a needle and thread and begins to sew all the three pieces together. He wants it to be real. He doesn’t want it be some three piece suit. His wife deserves the best. It is an outfit that will last forever. Michelle is his final victim. The skin seems to mold nicely with his wife’s body.  His wife is no longer just a decaying corpse. She looks like a real woman again. She is beautiful. It is many years too late but Graham finally has the courage to tell her. “I love you, Beth. You are the prettiest gal in the world. I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out. But if you want to thank anyone for showing me the way, thank Michelle. She made all the possible.”

Graham slides himself in the bed next to his wife. He pulls her close. He kisses her a few times. Even grabbing her breast made him feel more alive than ever. Graham climbs on his wife. He bites his lips and tells her, “We’ve been waiting a long time for this…” Graham pulls his boxers down and gives his wife the first of many thrusts to come.

 

 

 

Happy Mother’s Day

In honor of mother’s day (in a sadistic and twisted way), here is a snippet from my ‘never will see the light of day’ novel, “Eden”. Again. Please ignore all the typos.

 

“Hi mom.” He said with a sarcastic tone in his voice. He sat on the couch, his arms folded nicely on his lap. “You’re home early.”

Nancy walked towards Brain. She was furious. If it could happen, steam would be shooting out of her ears by now. Nancy clenched her fingers together, forming a tight fist. Brian noticed that dripping from her fists, was blood. Nancy had clenched them so tightly together; her fingernails were tearing in to her palms. But it didn’t seem to faze her at all. She continued walking towards him. “What the hell you doing out of your room? How did you unlock that door?”

Brian laughed and ran passed her. “If you want to punish me, come and get me!” He laughed and ran in to her bedroom. He glared behind the door and nodded to Zach. “She’s on her way. Get ready.”

Nancy walked up the stairs and in to her room. Brian was on the other side of the bed. He just smiled and laughed at her. She didn’t know what was going on, and if she did, she wouldn’t have other stepped in to that room. “When I get my hands on you, I am going to beat…” Nancy was startled by the sound of the door slamming shut.

Nancy was blocked on each side. Standing just inches from her, was Zach, a hammer in his hand and a smile on his face. He didn’t say anything to her at all. He just used all the energy he had and struck her in the knee. Nancy fell down and screamed in pain. Brian placed his hands on the bed and starting jumping up and down, he was filled with such joy. “How does that feel? How does it feel to lose all that power?”

Zach hit her again. He smacked the same knee again and then his third blow, he broke her other kneecap in to three pieces. Nancy just lay on the floor. She was crying in pain and asking for help, but the boys just stood there, both laughing at her. Nancy raised her arm and reached for the door handle. Zach wasn’t paying attention, till Zach gave him the nod to stop her. Nancy had reached the door handle and had it in her grasp. Zach yelled “no”, and hit her hand with the hammer. Nancy screamed in pain again. “Finish it.” Brian said.

Zach hit her again on the side of the face. The damage to the face knocked her out. It also opened up a large gash on the side of her face. “She’s out!” Jacob and the girls left their room and joined up with Zach and Brian in their mother’s room. Lying on the floor was Nancy. She was breathing, but not very heavily. Zach smiled and tossed the hammer on the bed.

The children just huddled around their mother, just looking at her. Ashland opened the door and joined the kids. “Is she dead yet?’ he asked them,

“No sir, not yet. But she will be soon.” Jacob, with the help of the others and Ashland lifted Nancy on to the bed. “Go get the tape Megan.”

Megan screamed with delight and ran out of the room. In just seconds, she returned with the tape. The plan was going perfectly. It was all downhill from here. Zach had to nail her to the bed. He wanted to do it badly, but was more of less afraid that she might wake up during it. Jacob took the tape from Megan and placed a large piece over Nancy’s mouth. The children switched off. Jacob drove in the first nail, just to let Zach know she wouldn’t wake up. He pressed the nail against her hand. Brian held up her hand and pressed it against the bed headboard. Jacob didn’t think twice about it. He did it as quick as he could. It took only one hit. The nail went right though her hand and into the wood of the bed. Blood spit from her hand and splashed across his face. Megan and Kelly screamed. They took comfort behind Ashland legs. They wanted just this, but the girls were getting more terrified as it went further and further. Jacob handed the hammer to Brian. With the help of Jacob, Brian drove his nail in to Nancy’s hand. Like before, the blood shot out from her hand and covered his face.

Ashland patted the girls on the head and smiled. “This is what you wanted, right?” He scooted them away from his legs and pushed them closer to the bed to see what was going on. The girls didn’t want to see, but they had to. They looked at their mother. She looked helpless. He face still bleeding, as well as her hands. “It’s about time children. I cannot be here any longer. But I will be back. This is your mission, not mine.” Ashland just walked out of the house and down the road. He left the children alone. So they waited. Nancy had been unconscious for fifteen minutes now. They just wished she would wake up soon. They wanted it done and over with.

Time passed and the children were growing tired. Jacob was startled by the sounds of Nancy’s moans.

Jacob removed the tape, just to let her speak. He planned on putting it back on once they were ready. He felt that she deserved it. She had the right to say what she wanted. It was either on till they went through with it, or until she got on their nerves. Jacob had a second piece of tape already for anything that might happen.

“What’s going on here?” she said. Nancy was still weak and confused. Nancy saw the children all gathered around her bed, all with blank stares at her. Nancy was cruel herself, but this drew the line for her. She didn’t see kids who broke commandments and kids who disobeyed their mother, but she saw only spawns of Satan.

Nancy cried in pain and wished for them to stop, but they didn’t. It wasn’t until Kelly brought in the manmade weapon in to her line of sight, that she saw her hands nailed to the backboard.

“You’ve been a bad, bad mommy. You don’t listen to God!” Kelly flipped the switched to the beater. The whizzing sound brought fear to Nancy. She was aware that her kids were going to kill her. Nancy began to beg to be free, promising that all will be better, that she would change and they could once again be the happy family that everyone thought they were.

“Liar! Thou shall not lie!” Jacob proved his mother wrong. “You broke a commandment mother. You know what the means?’ Jacob took the hammer in his hand and hit her right foot. “I break a bone!”

“Listen you little brats, when I get out of you, you’re all in for it.” Nancy wanted to hold her foot, and rub out the pain, but that mean she would have to rip her hand away from the nail and cause herself even more pain. Nancy knew better. She knew she wouldn’t be getting out of this anytime soon. She just thought maybe a little threat would scare them and they would give in, giving her the upper hand in this situation.

“You’ll what mom?” Jacob laughed. He knew who had that upper hand. He did. He planned on using it too. “That’s right mom, nothing.”

Nancy looked at her daughter. She was still holding the weapon in her hand. The sound just echoed in her head. Kelly walked up to her. “Know what this is for mommy?”

“Please baby, don’t do this. You don’t want to hurt your mommy. You love your mommy.” Nancy looked at her and started to cry. “Please baby! Kids, please don’t do this.”

Jacob rolled his eyes. “Forget it mother. You screwed up. We have to go and so do you.” Jacob tore the tape off the bed and covered her mouth. Nancy screamed for help, but it was too muffled to even be heard by anyone. “Go ahead Kelly. It’s your turn.”

Kelly smiled and brought the makeshift weapon to Nancy forehead. Nancy closed her eyes and squeezed them tightly together. Kelly turned the beater on high and pressed it to her mother’s head. The corkscrew spun around and tore into her flesh like it was cake batter. Blood coated all the walls as the beater spun around. Kelly just laughed. Earlier she didn’t want to see a drop of blood, but actually doing it, actually drilling a hole in to their mother, gave her a since of power. Kelly liked it. The corkscrew reaches the bone and started to scrap at it. Nancy wasn’t moving. She had lost too much blood and laid on the lifeless. But the children didn’t care. Kelly broke through the bone and continued drilling. Small bones shavings rose to the surface and trickled down Nancy’s face. Kelly turned if off. The corkscrew couldn’t be seen anymore. Kelly yanked it from Nancy’s head, ripping a large hole in her forehead.

 


Picnic In The Park

Free Candy VanI could have been a victim. I could have been traumatized if I let my guard down and chose to eat some, delicious pizza. Thankfully, my mother discussed with me the importance of ‘stranger danger’. The matter I am about to discuss isn’t a laughing matter and should be a warning to children or perhaps mentally challenged adults around the world. But since I take nothing seriously and try my best to make light of difficult situations, I find much humor in the past ordeal I unwittingly took part in.

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Written In A Day: The Proposal.

Janet had just left work. She pulled a double that night, working for another employee who called in sick. While she doesn’t mind working the extra hours, she was hoping to get home early. She planned a wonderful night out with her boyfriend and was looking forward to this night for many weeks. Instead, she sucked it up and agreed with her boss to put in the extra hours. They had a deadline to meet. In a matter of days, her company was about to take on a large account. If they land it, it would bring millions of dollars their way and now, with her fronting the team and pulling this double shift, she might just get that corner office she’s been eying since she arrived.

Janet sat at her desk, typing away and looking over piles of paper. Every so often, she would watch someone leave. They would exchanged good byes and well wishes. She smiled at them, waved but it wasn’t real. She was growing tired and irritable. These people never put in extra hours. They never reached out a hand to help. They worked their shifts and left, knowing that once they beat the rush hour traffic, they will be home with someone they love. But still, the corner office was all she could think about. She buried her face back into the paperwork, taking her time to make sure it was all correct.

Her phone chimed. It was a text message from Aaron. Just seeing him name grace the screen made her smile. He was the one. He was everything she looked for in a man. He is something special. He would call her just to say hello. They would talk on the phone for hours. Usually it was about nothing. But that was what made her love him. He took the time to think of her. She read the message,

“Hey Janet! Just thinking of you. I wish we could have met up tonight. I was looking forward to it.”

She frowned. She was missing him. She really wanted to see him. She really wanted to spent tonight with him. He had told her that tonight was going to be a perfect night. He had big plans. A fancy restaurant, and a night where she was going to be the center of attention. All week long, she thought about this night. She wondered why this night was so special. the romantic in her, thought only about him dropping to one knee to propose. It was logical. It had to be. She sighed. She stared at the phone, reading the message over and over, knowing that accepting her bosses plea to work overtime ruined her chances for the perfect night, the night were she was not going to a just a girlfriend anymore.

The phone buzzed again. Aaron sent another text.

“What if I stop by and see you?”

Again, she lit up with excitement. It wouldn’t hurt if he stopped by. Besides the janitor, she was the last one in the building. She wants to see him, she really does. The only problem she has is she is a stickler for the rules. She always puts work first. She doesn’t bend the rules. Even knowing that him coming by for a while wasn’t going to cost her the corner office or her job, she just couldn’t come to the decision of if he should or shouldn’t. She tried to focus back on work, but she would always go back to looking at her phone to decide on what to do. The phone buzzed a third time. It was Aaron again.

“I really want to see you tonight. I’ll bring take out! It’s not “Pierre’s” but it will work.”

She laughed. Food did sound good. Seeing Aaron sounded even better. Janet scooped up her phone and starting typing.

“Sure! Sounds good! I’ll see you in a bit!” She hovered her thumb over the ‘send’ option a second or two, before she stopped thinking with her brain and thought with her heart.

Send.

She held on to the phone. The files on her desk sat there. She eyed them a few times but she only thought about what he would say next. Sure enough, Aaron replied,

“Okay, sweetie. I’ll see you in bit. Hope you like chinese food. I love you.”

Janet smiles from ear to ear. She loved hearing him say that. Many of her old boyfriends have said it before but to her, she never felt like they really meant it. If they did, she would be with one of them and not Aaron. She is happy with Aaron. She is happy she accepted that blind date her friend set her up on. If she didn’t, then she wouldn’t be as happy as she is right now. Janet felt a extra burst of energy overcome her. She jumped back into her work, only this time, her focus was on Aaron and not on the large account she could land the company. Taking a minute away from her work, she would look at her phone just to read the last message again. “I love you.”

She reads it over and over, each time it assures her that Aaron is a great guy who is going to make tonight a memorable one, even if they have to sit in a dark office and eat chinese food. Janet rose to her feet. She stretched her arms in the air, and yawn widely. She walked around, getting any type of exercise she could. She looked at the clock. It was just after eight. It would be only another two hours before she would head home. The long day at work was hard on her. She really wished she was like everyone else who would just drop what they were doing and leave the work till they next day. Staring out the window, she looked at the empty parking lot. It was her car and the janitor’s truck. He was always the last one to leave. She wondered if he even knows she is still upstairs. If he doesn’t, he’ll surely discover she is when Aaron shows up with dinner for two. She watched cars drive by. Whenever a car slowed down, she would press her face closer to the glass and wish that is was Aaron. But the car never pulled in the parking lot. It would slow down but keep forward, driving off in the darkness of the night.

Janet looked at her phone. No messages. She wondered what was taking him so long. She was ready to send him another message but before she even pressed the very first letter, her phone buzzed. It was a message from Aaron.

“Sorry. Long line. Be there in ten.”

The reassurance of his text put her at ease. She retreated back to her desk. The clutter on the desk was no way to have dinner. If they were going to make this night magical, she wanted everything to look perfect. Grabbing the file box from the floor, with one swoop, she shoved all the papers in to it. “All clean.” She said to herself. It wasn’t right still. It was still missing something. Janet strolled around the office. She passes by a few other desks and grabs anything that catches her eye. Gretta had a vase sitting on her desk with a bouquet of flowers. Janet puts it on her desk and again, still feels it is missing something. She remembers Eric talking about the candles his kids made for him at summer camp. They weren’t the prettiest of candles but with so little to work on, she take the opportunity to put them to a far better use than the paper weight Eric was using them as.

Janet sat at her desk. It looked perfect. “Oh, I almost forgot!” Janet turned on her radio to the soft jazz station. It wasn’t her favorite music but Aaron likes it. If this was going to be perfect, everything has to be. She sat there, her arms folded on her desk. Her eyes focused on the elevator in front of her. Her phone buzzed. It was Aaron.

“I’m on my way up! Twentieth floor, right?”

She replied ‘yes’. Janet began to shake. She was so nervous. She didn’t know what to expect. She could see Aaron. She could see him walking out of the elevator with two boxes of chinese food and a silly grin on his face, almost like he was saying “this is the best I could do on such short notice.”

With the office empty and not a peep from her, she hears the whirl of the elevator. The numbers above the elevator doors lit up With each number getting closer to twenty, her stomach twisted and turned inside her. She wanted to surprise him. She raced to the door to stand in front of it. She was going to leap inside and give him a big hug and kiss him. The numbers grew closer. She watched it go from 12 to 13…and before she knew it, the car was at 19. She took a deep breath and shut her eyes. The car stopped. A bell chimed and the doors flung open.

With her eyes still closed, she leaped in. “Oh, Aaron! I love you! I’m so glad you came!” She held tightly on. But something wasn’t right. This hug was different. It didn’t feel like Aaron. She opened her eyes and backed away. Janet screamed and back slowly out of the car. Standing in the car was the janitor. He was covered in blood. He looked at Janet, an evil grimace smeared on his face. The janitor pulled out a cellphone from his pocket. He punched a few keys then smiled again at Janet. Behind her, she hears her phone buzz.

The janitor stepped out of the elevator car and walked over to Janet. She screamed but it was useless. No one was going to hear her. No one was going to save her. Backing up, Janet was blocked by her desk. She fell backwards, knocking the candles and the vase to the floor. Standing over her, was the janitor. He shoved her on to the desk, grabbing her neck with one arm. “You’re special, Janet. You’re so, very special.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small felt box. Using his chin, he opens the box to reveal a diamond ring. He presses her face to hers. He licks her face from chin to ear, stopping briefly to smell her hair. Janet’s head gave. Her lifeless body laid motionless on her desk. There the janitor removes the ring and puts it on Janet’s still warm finger.

He moves her hands across her body, feeling every inch and every part. He grabs her breasts, squeezing them tightly, feeling an area of him growing tighter as well. He stops himself before he went any further. As he leaves, her kisses her on the cheek. He presses the ground floor button on the elevator. The door closes in front of him. The soft jazz fades away and he descends back to the ground floor to clean up the bloody mess left behind by Aaron.

 

 

 

The Helicopter Story

The following story is true.

 

I was just leaving work. It was an average day. Nothing exciting about it. Nothing ever exciting happens at work. I left and made my way to clock out for the night. I walked by a large, bald man. He seemed agitated. He approaches me. Being the die-hard employee I am, I said hello to him. He extends his arm. At this moment, I cringe. I stood there for a moment, just staring at his arm. He wanted a handshake. There is a small part of me that will offer handshakes when needed but there is also a part of me that doesn’t want to catch whatever disease you’re carrying about. I have said if many times before. I am a germaphobe. I don’t like shaking hands. I think it is disgusting. I’d hit up a hooker before I shake someones hand. It could have been hours that I stood there, just eyeing his arm. His hand shook. He coughed and he glanced to his hand. Okay, okay. I will shake your hand. Don’t ask for anything else. I took a deep breath and counted backwards from three. My arm reached out and we grasped hands. He had a firm handshake. My handshake is weak. Sue me. I don’t have much practice in that field. I need to work on that. But really, how does someone who doesn’t shake hand work on that?

He shakes violently. My arm moves like jelly. The man smiles and looks at me while he continues this handshake that I wished would just end.

“Hi. You’re gonna die. You’re a giant dick with big ears.”

Wow. I’ve been called many things but that was probably the first time someone has ever called me that. I can’t disagree with him about the ear thing. I do have very, large ears (the better to hear you with my dear). But a giant dick? Really? I was not a dick. I was still wet behind the ears. I was just growing accustomed to the world around me. I was not aware of how awful the world was then. Now, if that man said that to me today, I would agree 100%. I am a dick. I am a heartless person that will take any situation, no matter what it is and twist it into something obscene. I laugh at everything. I take nothing seriously. Maybe it’s a coping mechanisms. I don’t know. I am not a doctor. I don’t poke and prod around and try to figure out why I try to make everything a joke. It’s just how I see the world. It’s one, big joke.

After the man paid me the compliment, I went on my merry way to clock out and head home to relax with a soda. It be a beer but I was underage at the time and I stick to the rules society handed us. I descended the stairs and the man was still lurking about, still searching out his next victim. A customer crossed his path. Again, he extended his arm but not for a shake. Instead, he slightly poked the man, giving his a firm thrust. The man, obviously shocked, stumbled backwards. He kept his balance. Like a momma bird, he shielded his young son behind him.

“You’re a [censored] Jew. I wanna kick your ass!”

Maybe I missed something. I saw no yarmulke (pronounced yamaka) on the man’s head. He wasn’t carrying around the Torah either. To continue with the Jewish stereotypes, his nose did not resemble a ski slope. How on Earth did the man come to the decision that the customer in front of him was a Jew? How ever he came to that idea, the Jew was not too happy with being called out. Hell if I were a Jew, I’d be pretty pissed too if someone pointed that out. Oy.

The Jew agreed to the fight and was ready to take the man outside. The young, Jewish boy begged his daddy not to fight. With those sad eyes looking up at him, he refrained from the parking lot fight and went back to shopping. He nudged by the man and made his way down aisle three – the kosher aisle. I sneak by the man, who was just standing there, looking at the Jew as he vanished further down aisle three. Without any warning, a lady I worked with that night grabbed me, cutting off the circulation to my upper body. She pointed at the crazy man, saying we need to go. She kept saying the man had a gun and was going to go postal on us all. We watched together as the man collected his thoughts and spotted the next target in his rampage.

He stood over a bunker of chicken. In this bunker of chicken, were vacuum-sealed boneless chicken breast. He picked up a package and examined it. Like a wild animal, he took a giant bite in the package. Saliva dripped from his mouth. A glimmering light, twinkled in eyes. It seemed satisfying to him, to taste the raw meat and the plastic that protected it. He grunts, and grrrs. Lifting the package in the air, he grabs it with both hands and holds in high in the air. He lowers it slowly, till it rests firmly on his bald head. Using his head as a pivot, and his arms like pulleys, he moves the package up and down. He moves it left and right, screaming loudly,

“I’m weird! I’m weird!”

Really? No shit, Sherlock. The story doesn’t end there. Oh no. It gets better. Much, much better. He flings the package back in the case. At this time, the Jewish man had told managers up front about the crazy man in aisle one. With managers running to put his evil shenanigans to a stop, he had vanished. He had escaped somewhere in the store. The lady and I look at each other. We feel safe. This was our time to get the hell out. I would have left but I needed groceries. I go the checkout to buy some crap. A customer in front of me is talking about the man. He spotted him lurching around the aisles, not really doing much. He said he was acting weird. I was shooed and coaxed into calling the police. I scurried back to my department and dialed, 9-1-1. The last time I dialed that number was by mistake. We were playing some sort of movie or something at home. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought the phone was unplugged. I thought it was okay to dial the number. Sure I could have pretended to dial it but I needed it to look real. After I dialed it, I hang up the phone and we continue doing it what we were doing. The phone rings. Sure enough, it was the police. After explaining about what I did, I get an earful and am told that 9-1-1 isn’t a toy.

Where was I? Oh, I dialed 9-1-1. The lady was a bitch to me. Instead of taking the time to thank me for my heroic efforts to put an end to this crazy night, she yells at me and tells me that they already have people on the way. You know, I bet it was the same operator. I bet she recognized my voice. That whore. Screw her. I rush back to the front of the store. I really don’t want to miss anything. I wanna see the cops come in, guns drawn. I wanna see a John Woo movie unfold before my eyes. Well, not a full John Woo movie. You can leave out the birds. I hate birds now.

The man is heading towards the doors. It looks like he is leaving. A manager steps in front of him and lets him know that he isn’t leaving on foot. He’ll be leaving in a squad car. While he deduction of the Jewish guy is still spotty to this day, he didn’t need much to guess that the manager in front of him is a black man. Like before with the Jew, he shakes his finger at the manager and jabs him with it.

“I own you! I own you, boy!

Poor Abe. I bet Mr. Lincoln was rolling in his grave when he heard that. Guess his whole, Emancipation Proclamation was all a waste. I wondered at that moment if that man had a confederate flag on the top of his car like the good ole, Duke Boys. After the word slave was tossed around more times than the actual number of slaves, the man took an opportunity to relax on the ground. He laid there, arms and legs stretched out. It had been a long day for him. He called me a giant dick with big ears, called out a Jew, ate raw chicken, and brought back slavery. With no time for a twix bar, he took to the floor and relaxed. But, oh no. He wasn’t relaxing. He was prepping for the final act in his show. An act that will make everything seem tame. With gibberish pouring from his mouth, he takes his right arm from the floor and with one, swift motion, he unzips his fly. There, he removes his member and spins it around like a helicopter. It just waving about, flapping around like a limp piece of meat. And after a few flaps, he put his member back inside his pants and stands up. He takes a bow and tips a non-existent hats to us. He exits stage left but is confronted by officers. It was out of my view and pretty much, everybody else but the scuffle and the screaming, echoed about the doors and into the store.

The story made the paper. It says that during the scuffle with police, the man reached for one of the officer’s gun before he was subdued with pepper spray.