Forgetful

Ryan

I sat on to my bed, starring up at the cracked, old, concrete ceiling and drifted in thought. I was once again trying to find a reason behind what I do, but came to the same conclusion every time. There was no reason, I just loved it. Every little second was a free-fall, so much adrenaline but no outlet, other than screaming or laughing. The best part was the last few seconds, as strange as that sounds the exact moment when you see the light and life leave there dull eyes, there last pitiful breath. I’m addicted to killing, or rather the screams and blood that comes along with it. I smiled, taking a break from my thoughts, and reached for the plastic cup sitting on the floor with shaking hands. Downing the contents of the cup, I cursed, and decided to get some more tonight.

As I walked down the cold, December streets, I kept my eyes out for a hooker. I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not what you think. I finally found a clean-looking girl standing in an ally looking for ‘work.’ When I walked up however her sickly-sweet smile faded, and she grimaced at my approaching figure.

“You here for work? ‘Cause I don’t take well to competition.” She said in a high-pitched nasally voice I already hated.
“No actually I’m here to hire.” I stated, as I walked close enough to her to smell her breath, it smelt like alcohol, and mouthwash. As soon as the word hire left my lips her whole demeanor changed. I knew she would go with me as soon as she though money was involved, but I just needed my fix.

“Oh, I’ve never had a girl customer before.” She paused, and pretended to think about her decision, before saying “Well why not, let’s go.” She started walking in the direction I came from like she knew where she was going. I smirked at her back as she walked ahead of me. I walked up behind her, and put a hand on her lower back to catch her, as I pulled out the syringe hidden in my pocket, and swiftly injected the contents in her side. She gasped, and collapsed in my arms just before she hit the ground, barely conscious, but breathing.

I carried her on my back all the way to the old industrial district, knowing that if anyone saw us they would assume I was just a good friend carrying a friend home after one too many drinks. Once I found a suitable building, and got inside, I dropped the girl on the concrete floor with a dull thud. The second she hit the ground she let out a low moan of pain, in her half-conscious state. While I waited for sleeping beauty to wake up I set about locking doors, barricading windows, and setting up my tools. I make sure she couldn’t escape, it’s not like I would let her anyways.

I was ripped from my thoughts by a loud crashing sound coming from where I left the girl. I sauntered over to see the whore curled up in a corner trying to look small, and unimportant. I walked up to her slowly, but the closer I got the more she tried to back away, regardless of the wall behind her.

“Come on out, I won’t hurt you I promise.” I was lying through my teeth but she bought it just like they always do. Slowly she climbed out of her little corner, using the wall for balance, due to the drugs still working through her system. She hesitated when I tried to help her away from the wall, but she eventually latched onto my arm like a scared child.

As I lead her to an old fold out chair I had found earlier, I noticed she was limping on her left side. I looked down at her leg expecting to see an injury from when I dropped her, but saw she was only missing one of her high-heels causing her to walk funny. A slight panic set in when I didn’t see her other shoe at all in the room.

“What happened to your other shoe?” I asked the girl as we got to the chair.
“I… I don’t know” she stuttered, “I woke up without it.” She stated as she sat on the cold metal chair. At her words I lost it. I can’t believe I left any evidence of her being in that ally at all.
“What?” I questioned my voice dangerously low.

“I told you I have no clue where it is ok!” she yelled at me. As she sat in the old chair trying to remember what happened to get her here, I paced in uneven circles around her; my thoughts racing. How could I be so stupid!? I was quickly getting angrier and more violent by the second.

The girl gasped in pain as I grabbed her wrists and cuffed them to an old hook hanging from the ceiling left over from when the ware house was still used. She started crying and struggling with the handcuffs to get free. I ignored her tears and the sound of the handcuffs against the metal hook; as I paced.

I have to be punished; it’s the only way I learn. The stupid whore kept crying as I made my way over to a rope on the wall that was connected to the hook. As I reached the rope I took hold of it and pulled it downwards, lifting the slut in the process. I tied off the rope after the girl was dangling a few inches in the air, the cuffs cutting in to her wrists, making a small trail of blood make its way lazily down her right arm. My eyes followed the blood in its descent to her shoulder.

“What’s your blood type?” I questioned, my voice sounding rough with need. The closer I got the more she panicked.
“B.” she stated, her voice wavering slightly as she tried to sound tough.
“B what?” I demanded
“Negative, B negative.” I hummed in thought at this new information. The last one was O positive, so this almost as good as AB negative. She flinched as my finger touched the trail of blood on her arm. I smirked at her as I brought my bloodied finger to my lips, and licked it clean.

“You are being accused of participating willfully in prostitution, how do you plead?” I questioned as I turned my back to her and walked to my tools set out on a little table that was in the corner when I found it.

“W-what the hell are you talking about!?” she exclaimed as I ran my hands gently over my precious, silver tools. My eyes ran over several small blades before settling on a small exact-o knife with a brand new blade, nice and sharp.

I sighed as I walked over to her shaking figure, blade in hand, and introduced myself “I am the Judge, Jury, and the Executioner, but please call me Carnifice. It means Executioner if you were wondering. Pleased to meet you.” I smirked at her as I walked into her line of sight, keeping the blade hidden from her panicked eyes. “Now how do you plead? Guilty, or not guilty?” I looked into her eyes letting her know that she had to answer.

“N-not guilty!” she squeaked out, looking panicked, and worried she said the wrong thing. She did.
My eyes darkened, “Lying to the authorities, your sentence is death; the Executioner decides the method of termination. Case dismissed.” The whore started to plead and beg for mercy, it was annoying I just wanted to hear her scream, to see that last light leave her eyes, but I couldn’t that was my punishment. “Shut up.” I yelled at her, she did.

I made my way over to her, slowly bringing the small blade up to her face, next to her eye, to watch her cry quietly. “Scream.” I whispered then slowly pushed the sharp blade deep in her left eye. She looked confused for just a second before her pretty face twisted in pain. She granted my wish as she screamed as loud as her voice would allow. It echoed and bounced around the empty room, making it sound like there were dozens of screaming whores in the room instead of just one; I loved it.

I did the same with the other eye earning more agonized wails from the girl. I quickly grabbed two of the open water bottles from the ground and held them so the blood oozing down her face made its way in to the bottles; I did this three more times until I thought I had enough to keep me going for a while. Once I was done getting my bottles filled, I turned to the girl looking at where her eyes should be.
I looked away, and decided to walk over to my little table of weapons instead. I ran my hand over the cool metal of my carving knife to its handle. I walked back over to the suspended girl, taking my knife with me. I was slightly disappointed to see she wasn’t screaming anymore, just whimpering like a pathetic whore.

Frowning, I put the edge of my knife at one of the corners of her slightly agape mouth, and pushed. The skin automatically began to split, gaining speed as she screamed, pulling the skin of her cheek tight. I did the same with the other side giving her a nice big smile; mother did always say to die with a smile on your face.

I soon grew tired of her screams and whiny sobs, so I walked back over to my table to get my best friend, a large hunting knife meant for skinning deer, and other large animals. Once I was once again in front of her, I ripped what little shirt she was wearing off her body letting it drop to the ground at my feet.

Smiling, I plunged my blade in her flesh, just above her Right hip, and pulled it upwards, creating an upside-down letter ‘U’ ending at her left hip. I dropped my knife at my feet once I was done, and pulled the flap of skin down, allowing her organs to waterfall to my feet with a dull splat. I took a step back to watch her die from all the blood loss, but wishing her eyes were still intact so I could watch the life leave her. Once she fell limp, and lifeless I walked back up to her body. Holding my scalpel I carved the word ‘whore’ on her forehead, marking her crime.

I was about to pack up and leave when I thought I’d make her look even prettier then I already have, so I walked over to her cascading organs and pulled them outwards on either side to make what looked like wings.

I packed up, cleaned all my tools, and was about to leave but I paused at the door to take out my camera to take a picture to add to my collection. As I made my way home I thought back to why I do this and how it all started, but came up with nothing more than. It’s fun.