Page 17

Billy

D arkness cloaks everything in the night’s stillness, making it the perfect time for my secret side hobby.

However, now that I’m working on the property, I have no choice but to adhere to Lou’s schedule to keep it hidden from her. Two of the three days have passed, and I haven’t found the right people to pick up.

Stopping by a mailbox out of town, I drop the homemade leather journals for Brian’s parents. I’m sure it would be wiser to go further away from the city, but whatever.

I think about Miles’s mother. Whether she finds out what the wallet is made of or not, she’ll be able to hold her son in her hands once again.

The laugh bubbles up in my stomach, but I swallow it down. It’s not socially acceptable to be manically laughing on the street. That being said, I included a little note typed up that says, Think of me while you hold this. Love, Miles.

Cruising out of town, I see a group of three girls walking down the dusty road and wonder what the fuck they are doing.

One of them juts out her thumb, but the other pulls her back and shakes her head. The third just stands there.

I pull over and lower the passenger window. “You guys okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” the curly blonde states.

“We are not. We should get a ride. There’s a fucking serial killer out there somewhere,” says the dirty blonde.

The third girl, with dark hair, continues to do nothing. While they argue, I tap the steering wheel, finding comfort in the music’s beat.

“Okay, well, stay safe,” I yell at them before putting on my blinker and taking my foot off the brake.

“Wait! I’m sorry, could you give us a ride to the campus? We’re supposed to check it out before a big party this afternoon,” the dirty blonde says.

I grin as I put the car in neutral to unlock the doors.

They chat in the back for a few minutes as we drive, and then the curly blonde talks. “I’m sorry, you have to be careful these days, ya know?”

“Understandable,” I tell her .

“I’m Samantha. My friend who doesn’t talk is Tyler, and the too trusting one is Amber.” She gestures to each girl while I look in the rearview mirror.

“My name’s Miles,” I say, and continue to drive to the barn.

“We’re going the wrong way,” Samantha points out.

“Just have to pop by my house to grab something.”

“What could you need?” Tyler asks, an unusual name for a woman, but definitely cool.

“My wallet. If I were caught without my license, I would risk losing everything. I drive for work.” I speed up the laneway, trying to figure out how to corral them.

After I park, I grab the keys and step out of the Cruze before heading toward the barn. The girls sit in the backseat and don’t move.

I should have invested in something to subdue them. I enter the stable, a sense of anticipation fills the air.

I gather my silver mask, ensuring it’s in place, before grabbing hold of the sturdy crowbar and heading out. Stepping out onto the path, my attention lands on the unoccupied backseat.

“Did you get your wallet?” Amber asks, and I stare down into her blue eyes.

Biting the inside of my lip, I dart and wrap my arm around her neck and cover her mouth. Her eyes widen as she fights against me, but she’s no match for my strength.

I walk her back into the barn and hit her with the crowbar, and she sinks to the ground, passing out. One down, two to go.

Returning to the door, I watch Tyler and Samantha holding hands and walking towards the rotting garage. They’re going to be surprised by the bones and collection of teeth that I haven’t gotten rid of yet.

I stalk in their wake. “Hello ladies,” I whisper.

Both shout as I swing the metal rod along the back of their legs, and they drop to the ground. Their screaming doesn’t stop, and Samantha sits up and tries to swat at my legs.

Standing back, I contemplate what to do. Brian suffered a lot of bruising with the crowbar, and I don’t want to damage any more skin.

I sigh and pick up Tyler first. With a swift motion, I flip her over my shoulder and secure the crowbar in my grip. Making my way to the stall, I drop her in the muck.

When I return to the patch of grass, Samantha is army-crawling away, long scratches on the trail beside her.

“Where ya going?”

“Fuck you, fucking prick,” she shouts .

With an eye-roll, I lift her up and carry her on my shoulder. Samantha pounds her fists against my back, and I think I’ll be slow with her.

When I haul her into the stall with the others, I close the door and slide over the lock.

“What the fuck do you want, you fucking bag of shit?” Tyler shrieks.

I reach for her and pull her out the door. The moment I close it, a chorus of screams erupts from the others. I push her into the killing room and strip her down.

She fights me every step of the way, but after I smack her hard across the face, she stops. Looking down at her, I can’t help but be infuriated by her lack of resistance.

Lifting her onto the surface, I secure her limbs as I look down at her on the table. Her eyes are open, but she doesn’t frantically look around.

It makes me furious. I want her to be scared. Does she not know I feed off the fear, that it helps the blackness disappear from my mind?

The expression in her eyes remains constant while I work. She seems to have accepted whatever happens. Tyler gasps as I cut the skin off her thighs, but doesn’t scream.

I’m not doing what Lucy asked, but I have two others. I had a feeling that I was on the verge of losing control, and it made me uneasy.

“Did you live in town? ”

Her gaze locks with mine, her brows lowering. Her pain tolerance is fascinating as she presses her lips together.

“Come on. Answer for funsies?”

“No, out of town.”

She doesn’t move as the blood drips down the what’s left of her flesh and spills in puddles around her body.

“Anyone gonna miss you?” I ask.

“Nope. I wanted to make a better life for myself, but apparently death comes if you wish for it hard enough.”

Lowering my head, I sigh. I almost want to say something comforting, but I’ll just spare her from her suffering.

I flip her over, and a low groan escapes her lips, but she stifles a scream.

Her friends create a chaotic symphony, meanwhile, hurling every insult imaginable at me—a fitting backdrop for the situation.

I take some of her back skin and admire her legs, the soft and unmarked flesh exactly what I desire.

The scars on her wrists and the hopelessness in her voice tell me she isn’t afraid to die.

Perhaps I’m cutting the pain from her, as if the blood inside has been causing her misery. In a sick, twisted way, maybe I am saving her from the world.

Unfortunately for her, I won’t be rescuing her from the monster that lives within me.

For a moment I leave her to put the skins in salt. She is the same when I return, minus everything I’ve removed. Turning her over, I find her eyes to be closed. She’s breathing shallowly. Maybe this is all she can take.

Suddenly, they open and look into mine, pulling me out of my thoughts. If she is looking for remorse, she will not find any. There’s nothing in my vision except for bloodlust.

She is ruining everything today, lying there, seemingly oblivious to what’s happening.

It’s the feeling of being alive that drives me to do this, to keep the shadows of the past at bay.

The nights of abuse and being sold to other men by my mother are memories that plague me, their weight heavy like dark clouds. The blackness that fills me is viscous, like oil, and it seeps into every crevice of my being.

I’m not a good man, and I’ve allowed my past to transform me into someone who derives pleasure from the terror of others. Knowing that my products are being used gives me more excitement than almost anything, except for Lucy.

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, leaving the memories to snap like little bubbles, I explore her body.

Carelessly, I pull the knife down her abdomen, cutting through the membrane to open her up. I cut her ribs out, her body twitching with each snap .

As I look down beyond where her ribs were, the tiniest beat of her heart is fascinating, the one thing that’s so fucking easily breakable.

Minds and hearts have the power to be broken so devastatingly, and nothing to truly heal them.

Blood coats the table, Tyler’s face smooths into peacefulness. I stare down at the mess for a few minutes, wondering what all she lived through to greet death with such peace before I cut her into pieces for the fire.

Since buying a wheelbarrow, things have been easier. I fill it with parts of her, but as I walk it down the hallway, her friends’ screams replenish the fear I was missing out on.

Heat radiates through my chest, and a smile pulls at my lips. I park the wheelbarrow down at the stall closest to the doors. No need to start a fire when I have so much more work to do.

I return to the killing room, taking two rags to wipe up all the mess. It smears around the table, but cleaning isn’t my primary aim.

I bring both rags to the stall, grabbing duct tape on my way. I shove the blood-soaked cloths into their mouths and cover them with tape.

Wide eyes look back at me, snot and tears running down their faces. All I can do is smile.

“We’re gonna have a lot of fun.”

Checking my watch, I see I have about six hours left before Lucy is back. I want to test some of these methods.

As I enter the stall, Samantha glares at me, tears lining her dirty face. Amber’s eyelids are shut, and I nudge her body so she can be as scared. Her green eyes aren’t the same as Lucy’s, and I’m thankful for that.

Liquid sounds against the ground, and I glance over my shoulder to watch Samantha piss her pants. I’m glad that’s over—it’s one of the worst parts.

After I grab the scissors, I cut the clothes off both. Samantha is covered in ink across her stomach and down her thighs. I slam my fist against the wood of the stall.

“Fucking people with their fucking tattoos.”

She screams despite the bloody rag in her mouth. I look down at myself and can’t help but laugh at the vibrant tattoos that cover every inch of me.

“Well, I’m certainly not cutting myself up for the product, am I?”

That seems to shut her up as the realization sinks in. Apparently, I’ve made quite the name for myself out in the world. The big boogeyman who makes people disappear and sends their family pieces of their loved ones.

I waltz out to the supply room, coming back with a pot and the spoon that I’ve sharpened to take layers of fat. If their skin is no good, the least they can do is provide some type of product.

When I return, I skirt around them and make a large cut on Samantha, discarding the flesh to the ground. It makes a wet sound when it hits the dirt and blood drips down her stomach.

A muffled scream comes from behind the tape. Her eyes are closed, but she fights against the restraints. Amber is more docile, although still won’t look at me. I’m going to have to barter for information.

Taking a smaller strip of skin off Amber, I leave the stall and lay the flesh in the salt. Scanning the barn, I grab a large container that’s tucked outside the enclosure.

I return to Samantha and use the sharpened spoon to scrape the fat off her muscle tissue. Though I love the muffled screams, I reach up and rip the tape off their faces.

“What the fuck?” Samantha shouts at me. Amber cries harder.

“You’d think people would come up with more interesting things when captured. I’ve heard that so many times I should start bingo cards.”

“What do you want, ya cunt?” Amber asks, glaring at me.

“Who’s Samantha’s family?” I twirl the knife between my fingers and slip the spoon in the back pocket of my jeans .

“I ain’t telling you that,” Amber screams.

Nodding, I feel the touch of my lips as they press together. I move closer to Samantha’s spot and mercilessly hack at a larger patch of skin, her piercing screams echoing throughout the barn.

The scarlet blood gushes, completely enveloping her body and staining my forearms.

“ STOP! ” Amber shouts. She tries to spit on me, but her aim is poor.

“Yes?” I ask, tilting my head and holding the blade in place.

“If I tell you, will you quit hurting her?”

I glance up at Samantha’s eyes and nod.

“Her father’s name is Todd. They live at 55 Howard Court.”

I pull the knife away from Samantha’s torso. The skin flops forward but doesn’t slip off her body.

“Do you have information for me?” I ask Samantha, running the scalpel over Amber’s stomach.

“No,” she bites out.

With a smirk, I slide the knife across the obliques, carving flesh off her like a ham. When I place it in the bin, their voices escalate into a heated argument.

“The fuck is wrong with you? Give him the information so he can stop flaying me like a fish,” Amber chokes out.

“No, he’s gonna kill us, anyway. I’m protecting you, unlike what you did. My father is going to be devastated.” The tone in her voice has dropped.

Slipping back into the stall, I spin Amber in a circle. Blood flies off her body and splatters her friend.

When she stops spinning, I glance over at Samantha, who isn’t looking this way.

“Well, sweetheart, I’m sorry you have such a shitty friend, but know that you have glorious skin.”

“ SAMMY! ” she shouts.

With each incision, the metallic scent of blood fills the air, mixing with the sound of my knife slicing through the flesh.

The ambiance is thick with silence, broken only by her piercing screams. I place everything in the bin, and when I turn back, blood drips steadily from both.

Glancing at my watch, I realize a couple of hours have passed since I last checked. I start the blowtorch, its intense heat searing the open wounds, a sharp sizzle echoing through the room.

Amber passes out from pain or shock. I slice off additional sections of skin from her body. Samantha doesn’t give me the screams I’m looking for as she bites her lip so hard blood drips down what’s left of the front of her.

“Smells like barbeque in here. Good thing I don’t eat meat. ”

“You’re such a sick fuck. We’ve been warned about you. They’re onto you. It won’t last forever and then you’ll rot in prison.” A smug smile crosses her face, crimson fluid coating her chin.

I make a swift, piercing motion towards Amber, cutting through the delicate flesh on her thighs and draping it over my arm. The splat of blood dripping on the floor fills the air as I use the spoon to remove every trace of leftover fat.

“That noise is fucking gross. Why’re you collecting it?” It’s odd how quickly Samantha has accepted her fate.

The bucket is filled to the brim, ready to make a batch of soap. I walk away to put Amber’s skin on the salt, the sight of the remaining bodies for the experiment lingering in my mind.

I can’t escape Samantha’s relentless barrage of questions, her voice piercing through the air. Despite her missing flesh and the burns that mark her body, she remains resilient and seems to have dissociated from the current slaughter.

“I’ll never rot in prison. They won’t find me, so I’m not worried. Most times they need a witness or evidence, and since I have neither, I’d say I’m doing alright.”

I pick up the scraps of her skin and toss them in the wheelbarrow with her friend.

I glance at her as I burn Amber’s wounds closed. Her breathing is much shallower than anyone I’ve ever killed. Turning back to Samantha, I carve more skin away from her body, burning as I go.

So far, I’ll be able to tell Lucy that skinning will work for some people, but not for others. At least it’s plausible.

“Fuck. Why do you take fat?”

I scoop the rest from the body before igniting everything that’s oozing blood. With each passing moment, her sentences grow fainter, her voice morphing into a strained whisper. Death is coming.

“What’s her mama’s address?”

“What do you do with it?”

“Give me my answers. I’ll give you yours.”

I tilt my head, fixating on her through the eyeholes of the mask. Perspiration runs down my forehead, stinging my eyes.

Her silence prompts me to roll my head in annoyance. Moving all the scraps out of the way, I grab the bucket and head to the supply room to mix it up.

Quickly, I secure the scalpel and bone cutters before dancing back down the hall to where they both hang. Amber is passed out cold. Her head hangs forward and the muscles across her chest barely move.

“Time’s running out for your friend. Do you remember the address yet?”

“No. What do you do with the fat? ”

With the blade in hand, I slice through the tissues in Amber’s torso, the resistance giving way beneath the knife. Snapping tendons fills the air.

Her chest cavity is exposed, staring back at me. I turn Samantha around to face what I’m seeing, but she averts her gaze. Rude and disrespectful, honestly.

“Ever heard of organic soap?”

“Duh,” she mutters.

I continue working away at Amber’s ribs, cutting the bone until I have the pieces I want.

“Ever heard of Lou’s organic soap?”

My focus doesn’t leave Amber’s heart, it barely flutters. I know this is the end stop for her, but she did so well in giving up the information. Unfortunately, her family may never come to learn the grim details of her fate.

With a precise cut, I open up her stomach, causing her entrails to spill out and hang from her corpse.

“Yeah, I’ve seen influencers using it. It’s been out of stock every time I check, though.”

This surprises me. I can’t believe how far the brand has reached.

I saw through an intestine, its slimy texture slipping through my fingers as I gently pull it away from Amber’s body .

“Yeah, organic soap,” I tell Samantha and wrap the slippery body rope around her neck. She grimaces and gags. “Want a snack?”

“You’re fucking killing people for soap?” She bites out the words, her chest much slower to move.

“I could fire up the inside of your bestie. You can eat her, since you didn’t give a fuck when she was alive to let her mama know that she’s never coming home.”

I grab the blowtorch and hold it up. With a sour look, she rolls her shoulders, attempting to rid herself of the slimy remnants of her best friend.

“Her mom lives at 456 Whitney Drive, in Peterborough.” She’s held that secret to the bitter end.

I nod and leave. Checking the time, I notice Lucy should already be home. It means I won’t be able to have the fire that needs to happen tonight, and cleanup will have to wait until tomorrow.

Glancing down, I find myself covered in bits of everything as I head to the stall for a last farewell.

“Well, appreciate the information, both for this and for my girl.”

“Fuck you.”

“Nah, I’ll do ya one better.” I walk towards her and wrap my hands around her throat, ending the suffering so she doesn’t have to cling to the dregs of life. “Thanks for the day. It’s been fun.”

Before heading to the supply room, I grab the hose, and cool water cascades over my arms and palms as I rinse them off. I slip into a pair of old jeans and a torn tee.

Before leaving, I switch off the lights, double-checking that everything is locked.

Driving to the house, I park beside Lou’s car and head toward the porch. I hear her in the shower.

I strip down and pull the curtain back, staring at her gorgeous tattooed skin. Every single moment I see her is like the first time.

“Room for one more?” I ask.

She almost jumps out of her skin. As she slips, I grab her elbow and slink into the water with her.

“Almost gave me a fucking heart attack,” she whispers.

Her nails run through my hair, and my dick throbs.