The Butcher's Husband and Other Stories

by Amy Cross

  Yeah, Brad's a smart kid, smarter than his years.

  I tap his name and raise the phone to my ear, and I wait for the call to connect.

  “Come on,” I mutter under my breath. “Pick up.”

  The call rings and rings, and with each ring I begin to lose a little more hope.

  “Hey, it's Brad,” a voice suddenly says on the other end of the line, and I feel my heart sink as I instantly recognize the sound of his voicemail message, “leave a message and I'll call you back. Peace.”

  There's a beep.

  I briefly consider leaving a message, but then I hang up.

  “Damn it,” I say with a sigh. I guess Brad is having fun somewhere, and he wouldn't be able to get my message in time.

  I start scrolling through the rest of my contacts, searching for someone else I can trust, but finally I give up and set my phone back into my pocket. I'm starting to feel more than a little flustered, partly because I suffer from claustrophobia and partly because I'm more and more certain that the key was in the back door earlier, after Vanessa and Leah disappeared but before the second power cut.

  Crouching down, I start running my hands across the floor, hoping against hope that somehow the key fell out of the lock.

  When that doesn't work, I get back to my feet and try to come up with another plan. I guess I could smash the window, but that would seem pretty desperate and I'm not quite at that stage, not yet.

  Give me another five minutes, however...

  I'm a smart guy. I might not be a genius, but I'm a smart, practical guy, and I figure I can find a way out of here. I hesitate for a moment, as I try to come up with something, and then – as if from nowhere – I suddenly remember that Vanessa keeps a spare set of keys in the cupboard at the back of the freezer. She's always been worried about the door swinging shut and trapping her inside, so she put a spare set of keys inside so that she could turn the lock if she got trapped, even if the lock somehow twisted.

  And although I nagged her, she left all the other keys on the ring with the freezer key, which means I should be able to get the back door open.

  I head through to the freezer. I instinctively reach out to switch the light on, but of course that doesn't work. Taking my phone from my pocket once again, I hold it up and use the flashlight app to guide myself toward the rear of the freezer.

  All around me, dead frozen animals are hanging from hooks.

  This freezer is creepy at the best of times. Tonight, shrouded in darkness and still cold even though the power's off, I'm feeling positively freaked out. I'm trying to not bump against the carcasses, but that's impossible seeing as how closely they're stored. I case the flashlight's beam around catch the sides of dead faces, and I fancy that a few of the pigs are actually staring straight down at me as I make my way closer and closer to the freezer's far end.

  Finally I reach the cupboard and I open the door, only to be immediately faced with an empty hook.

  “I don't care if you think I'm paranoid,” I remember Vanessa saying several years ago when she first put a set of keys on that hook. “I refuse to risk getting stuck in this thing.”

  I reach out and touch the hook, just to make doubly sure that the keys are missing, and then I look down in the hope that they might have simply fallen off.

  No such luck.

  Vanessa was religious about keeping these keys in here, she'd never have simply taken them and not put them back. Not unless...

  I pause for a moment, as I try to imagine the possibilities.

  Vanessa would never have taken the keys, not unless she took them very, very recently and hasn't had a chance to put them back yet. Not unless she took them, say, just a few minutes ago. Not unless she took them specifically so that I couldn't get hold of them.

  I stare at the empty hook for a moment longer, and then I turn and look over my shoulder.

  “Gah!” I exclaim, as I see a figure silhouetted in the doorway that leads out of the freezer.

  Startled, I stare at the figure and try to work out whether it's Vanessa or Leah. Whoever it is, they're naked, and I think it's Vanessa. I mean, I should be able to recognize the outline of my wife's bare body, shouldn't I?

  Shouldn't I?

  “Hey,” I stammer, figuring that I should stay non-committal until I'm certain, “what are you doing there?”

  I wait, but she doesn't answer. And then, just as I'm about to try again, she steps back out of view and the doorway is once again empty.

  At least she didn't slam the door and trap me in here.

  I wait, still trying to figure out what's happening, and I have to admit that right now I feel more than a tad creeped out. I mean, it's clear that Vanessa and Leah are still here, and that they know I'm here too, so why have they been hiding from me? I want to say that they're being weird and rude, but then I remember that I was hiding earlier.

  Is this revenge?

  Are they trying to teach me some kind of lesson?

  I guess maybe I deserve that, especially since I took a couple of photos. Is that why they're acting strangely? Sighing, I realize that I can understand why Vanessa would be annoyed. I should probably offer to delete the photos, and then hopefully everything will go back to normal. Then I can hopefully apologize and go upstairs, and in the morning I can maybe ask Vanessa what exactly she and Leah were planning to do with that pig. I mean, they can't do the same thing down here every night, can they?

  Can they?

  Finally, figuring that I can't stand here forever, I make my way back across the room, slipping carefully between the hanging carcasses until I reach the door. I'm starting to feel as if I'm being toyed with here, and that's not something that I particularly enjoy. As I step back out into the main room and look around, I search for any sign of Vanessa and Leah in the shadows, but they're nowhere to be seen. I guess they're hiding somewhere, maybe laughing at me, which isn't fair at all.

  “Okay,” I say, turning to look the other way, “why don't you just -”

  Stopping suddenly, I see that the pig is missing from the table.

  I squint, convinced that I must be mistaken, but then I take a step forward and I reach out to touch the table's metallic surface. Sure enough, the pig has disappeared, leaving not so much as a bloodied smear on the table.

  I stare at the spot where the pig no longer rests, and then I look around the room again.

  I was right, I am being toyed with.

  I'm not going to take this.

  “Fine,” I say out loud, as I turn and head toward the door that leads up the stairs. “Whatever. I'm not playing some stupid game. If you two want to be weird down here, that's up to you, but I'm going up.”

  I grab the handle, only to remember once again that the door's locked.

  “Can you please unlock this thing?” I continue, no longer bothering to hide the sense of irritation from my voice. I even rattle the handle slightly, to emphasize the fact that I'm annoyed. “Like, now? You might find this sort of thing amusing, but some of us would rather just read a good book.”

  I try the handle again, not because I think it'll magically work but because I'm pissed off.

  “Come on, Vanessa,” I add, raising my voice slightly, “I'm not -”

  “OINK!”

  I freeze.

  That sound, which came from over my shoulder, definitely wasn't from a real pig. I'm not sure whether it came from Vanessa or from Leah, but it was definitely a human's attempt at the noise. I sigh again, as I realize that they're trying to prolong this dumb game. I don't want to give them the satisfaction of a reaction, and to be honest I'm quite surprised that my wife has descended to this level of farcical, childish nonsense. I think I'd rather just -

  “OINK!”

  I sigh again, but this time I feel something touching my left shoulder. I instinctively glance down, just in time to see a pig's trotter reaching toward the side of my face from behind.

  “Seriously?” I say with a heavy, labored sigh. “Vanessa, are you someho
w under the impression that this is funny or clever? Because it's not. It's just sad and stupid.”

  I stare at the trotter, and a moment later it reaches down and taps my shoulder again.

  I still don't want to turn around, but I can feel my anger growing and finally I sigh as I turn to face whatever stupidity my wife is perpetrating.

  “Enough!” I snap. “I don't understand what -”

  Suddenly I find myself staring straight into the face of the dead pig, except that – before I have a chance to react – the pig's eyes blink and its mouth opens, and it lets out a loud, shrieking oink that makes me instinctively step back against the door. For a moment, I can only stare in horror as the sound gets louder and louder, and finally I put my hands over my ears.

  “Stop!” I yell. “Why don't you two just grow up?”

  I wait, but of course I quickly realize that I'm not going to get a sensible answer. Then, just as I'm about to push the pig away, it's suddenly sent thudding against my face.

  “Stop that!” I shout, struggling for a moment to get away, and then hurrying past the table. “I'm not -”

  Before I can get away, however, my right foot catches against something and I trip. I reach out to steady myself, but I'm too late and I slam head-first into the side of the table. I feel a sudden loud, heavy cracking sensation that's accompanied by a burst of pain, and I let out a dazed gasp as I slump down against the floor. Landing hard on my chest, I hit my chin on the lino, and I squeeze my eyes tight shut as I wait for the worst of the pain to fade.

  For a few seconds, I feel an intense, throbbing agony running through my head. I try to haul myself up, but my body feels really heavy and I start sinking back down. I try again, but the same thing happens, and for a few seconds I feel as if I'm about to fall straight through the floor and dissolve into nothingness.

  And then, suddenly, I feel myself being grabbed from behind. Hands reach under my armpits, and I can only let out a faint, groaning murmur as I'm lifted up and placed flat on my back on the metal table.

  I try to sit up, but again I find that my body feels like lead.

  I blink, and my blurry vision begins to clear a little.

  Voices are speaking nearby, but I have to really concentrate in order to hear them.

  “I think we were really close tonight,” Leah's saying. “I hope this inconvenient interruption isn't going to upset our master.”

  “I'm really sorry about all this,” Vanessa replies, sounding somewhat harried. “I don't know what he was thinking.”

  “What are you doing to me?” I try to ask, but my voice is slurred and I can barely raise my words above a whisper.

  I think that blow to the head might have done something to me.

  “So are we going to do this the hard way or the easy way?” Leah asks. “I know this is personal for you, Vanessa, but I'm hoping you can step back and see the bigger picture.”

  “Don't ever doubt me,” Vanessa replies, “not when it comes to this.”

  I try again to sit up, but I still can't quite manage to move properly. My vision's clearing a little, however, and then a moment later the electric lights burst back to life directly above me. I'm briefly dazzled, and I have to turn my head away. As I do so, I spot Vanessa stepping toward me. She's wearing a butcher's apron, and a moment later she smiles at me as she holds up a meat cleaver.

  I open my mouth to ask what she's doing, but then she reaches over me and I turn my head just in time to see Vanessa raising the cleaver a little higher.

  “He'll reward you,” Leah says calmly. “You know he will. Maybe this was part of it all along. Maybe this is the final test before we're allowed to welcome him into the world. This is how we show him that we're loyal.”

  “Vanessa,” I whisper, still struggling for energy, “what are you doing?”

  “I know,” Vanessa says, staring down at me with a hint of sadness in her eyes. “You're right, it's just...”

  Her voice trails off for a few seconds.

  “You're right,” she says again, with her eyes still fixed on me. “He needs me to prove myself to him. And if that means making a sacrifice, then so be it.”

  “A sacrifice?” I whisper, feeling my heart starting to race as Vanessa holds the cleaver up high. “What do you -”

  Before I can finish, she brings the cleaver crashing down, and I cry out as I feel a sudden sharp pain in my right shoulder. At the same time, I feel the bones snapping, and then I watch in horror as blood sprays past Vanessa and hits the ceiling.

  “No!” I gasp, as I tell myself that this can't really be happening. “Please!”

  My eyes widen with shock as Vanessa holds up my severed right arm, and then I watch as she tosses it over her shoulder and moves around the table.

  “No!” I shout again, and now I'm starting to tremble violently. “Stop!”

  I feel another sharp pain, this time in my left shoulder, accompanied by the thud of the blade as if strikes the metal table. I turn and look, but this time blood starts spraying up into my face. I turn and try to spit some out of my mouth, just as the cleaver crashes into my left leg.

  The table shakes beneath me, and I stare up at the ceiling as I feel several more impacts. I think Vanessa's having to take several attempts at my leg, but all I can do is cry out as, finally, Leah leans over me and grins.

  “You know what they say about curiosity,” she says with a smile. “Why did you have to hide down here, Martin? Why did you have to get involved?”

  I cry out again, as Vanessa starts hacking at my right leg. I feel the table shudder several times, and Leah starts laughing as I scream.

  Suddenly Leah leans back, and Vanessa steps into view.

  “This gives me no pleasure, Martin,” she says calmly, as she raises the cleaver up high. “I want you to know that. And once you're gone, I'll really miss you. Of course, I'll be pretty busy with all the demon-raising and all the hot lesbian sex, but I promise I'll think of you sometimes. If I get the chance. I don't know, it'll be tricky. But I promise I'll try.”

  With that, she brings the cleaver crashing down against my neck. I scream, but suddenly the world starts spinning for a few seconds until my forehead slams against something hard. The world tilts the other way, and I find myself staring at a pair of bare feet. I try to turn and look all around, but I can't seem to move. I can only blink, as suddenly I feel something grab my hair and I'm lifted up from the floor.

  I'm swung around, and I briefly see a bloodied torso on the table before Vanessa and Leah come into view. Vanessa's holding her hand out, clutching the hair on the top of my head.

  “He's blinking,” Leah says with a smile. “Oh, that's so cool. I think he's still conscious in there, even though his head's off. I wonder how long he'll last.”

  As she speaks, I spot a mirror on the far wall, and to my horror I see that Vanessa and Leah are holding my severed head. Blood is dribbling from the gash across my neck, and as Leah starts laughing I can only scream.

  “Honey, what's wrong?”

  I blink, and when I open my eyes I find that I'm in darkness. Flustered and confused, I sit up, only to find that I'm upstairs in bed. Vanessa's sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at me with an expression of concern, and I realize after a few seconds that I'm still screaming.

  “I could hear you from all the way downstairs,” Vanessa says.

  I stare at her for a moment, before reaching up and touching my neck.

  It's there!

  My head is still attached to my body!

  I check my arms and legs, but they're also intact. I'm drenched in sweat, but I'm in the main bedroom upstairs and I'm alive. Nothing's been cut off, and as my heart continues to race I realize that I must have experienced an extremely vivid nightmare.

  I turn to Vanessa and see that she's eyeing my with a furrowed brow.

  “Martin? Are you okay? What kind of dream was it?”

  “I...”

  I hesitate for a moment, before looking over at the bed
side clock and seeing that it's three in the morning. I still feel filled with panic, as if my body wants me to scream and run, but after a moment I begin to feel the peace and quiet of the room taking over. Even though my heart is pounding in my chest, I slowly turn to see that Vanessa is still staring at me. A moment later she reaches out and puts a hand on my shoulder, and she allows herself a faint smile.

  “I'm sorry I was down there for so long,” she says. “After you came up to bed, I just wanted to get on with preparing for tomorrow. And before you tell me... Yes, I know, I work too hard. I need to take more breaks.”

  “You...”

  My voice trails off for a moment.

  “You were working down there?” I ask finally.

  She nods.

  “Alone?”

  “You came to bed.”

  “What about Leah?”

  “What about her?”

  “Did she not...”

  Again, my voice trails off.

  “What about Leah?” Vanessa says after a moment. “I don't understand, Martin. What exactly happened in that nightmare of yours?”

  “I was...”

  I try to work out how to explain, but at the last second I realize that maybe it's best if I just keep quiet. If that dream really was just a dream, then explaining it to Vanessa would only make me seem like a weirdo. Like a paranoid, mistrusting, perverted weirdo.

  “Maybe you shouldn't read comics on your phone right before you go to sleep,” Vanessa continues. “I think they set your imagination running wild.”

  Suddenly remembering the photos, I reach over and grab my phone from the nightstand. I immediately start checking the gallery, but of course there are no shots of Vanessa and Leah standing naked in the room downstairs. There's nothing like that at all. I guess none of it really happened after all.

  “I'm sorry,” I say finally, turning to Vanessa, “you're right, I just had a nightmare. That's all. I don't even remember what it was about. Sorry for scaring you, though. Whatever it was, it's over now.” I pause for a moment, still feeling flustered by all the awful things that I imagined. “Everything's back to normal,” I add. “There's nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.”