Page 53 of Asylum

“Olivia,” he breathes my name, his hand reaching for mine. I pull it away before he can touch me, and he grins one last time before expelling his final breath.

I hold my breath, watching him for a few moments, making sure the fucker is really dead. His body is still as a statue, but I press my finger into his cheek just to make sure.

Nothing.

Rolling him onto his back, his chest doesn’t rise or fall, his extremities lying limply at unnatural angles. Pressing two fingers to the pulse point in his neck, I feel nothing.

He’s dead.

It’s finally over.

The uncertainty. The lies. The torture.

It all ended with his last breath, and I can’t help but grin.

I’m fucking free.

I don’t know what the next step will be, but I have a new identity, and with a little investigating, I’m sure I can get my hands on some of Atlas’s money. The thought crosses my mind to take his phone, and send his black market contact a message. The only thing stopping me from offering up his organs for a nice payday is the fact no one deserves to have a single piece of him in their body.

Everything about Atlas Stone is infectious and rotten.

Pushing myself up from the floor, I wince at my stinging palms and aching head. The voice is quiet now, satiated by the death of its enemy.

I’m in desperate need of a shower, covered in blood and his cum. I’m headed that way until my stomach growls, steering my body towards the kitchen.

I’ll deal with him later.

I’m in the mood for a sandwich.

After eating a cold cut sandwich, I fell asleep in the chair while I contemplated what to do with Atlas’s body.

I’ve killed people before, but it was during an IED episode, so I don’t remember much. I never realized just how physically and emotionally draining it could be. Not only that, but I’ve never had to dispose of a corpse.

I’m still covered in blood, but I didn’t see the point in showering until I’ve buried him. There are many creative ways to get rid of a body, but unfortunately, none of those optionsare available to me. And honestly, I can’t take the stench much longer. Rigor mortis is setting in, the smell of death becoming stronger. I have to get him out of here before he starts decomposing.

One thing I’ll give him credit for is moving out in the middle of nowhere. Other than the neighbor across the street, there’s no one else for as far as I can see. I don’t know if it’s a man or woman occupying the house, but I need to get him buried before I find out. Hopefully, it’s an elderly person that goes to bed early.

Grabbing a few fifty-five-gallon trash bags from the kitchen, I decided to cover his upper body with one, and his lower body with the other. As I kneel beside him, gripping the back of his neck to lift him up, I jerk away, his head thumping against the floor. I’m taken aback by his cool skin and stiff body.

I didn’t think this through very well.

He’s too big to drag him outside by myself.

And he’s too stiff to fold his body into a bag.

Sitting back on my heels, I blow a stray hair out of my face, cursing Atlas’s dead spirit for getting me into this mess.

It’s well after midnight by the time I’m finished bagging his body.

After an hour of going back and forth, I went into the garage, looking for something. Anything to solve my problem. As luck would have it, I found a hacksaw on a tool bench. I debated whether my stomach was strong enough to do what needed to be done, but sheer determination pushed those worries aside. It also shoved past the ick of dragging his big ass into the bathtub.

It took a few hours to completely saw through his legs and arms. By the time I detached his torso, I was exhausted and cranky, my arms like jelly. But I fought through it, knowing I still had to remove his head.

Honestly, I wish I would’ve decapitated him first. The entire time I dismembered him, his milky eyes were trained on me. I tried to close his eyelids, but they kept snapping open, and eventually I gave up. I placed a dish towel over his eyes once I began sawing through his neck. It was brutal and messy but rather satisfying. I know I’ll be sore tomorrow, but the pain will be worth it.

Afterwards, I stuffed all his pieces into the trash bags, and hauled them outside one by one, around to the back of the house.

Fuck my life.