I’ll be a murderer.
No, the voice corrected. You’ll be securing your future. Jenny’s too. You think he wouldn’t do the same to you if the roles were reversed?
Another voice filtered through, the rational side of him. Asking him what happened if he was wrong. What happened if he was about to murder an innocent man based solely on a maybe. For as much sense as it made, the idea of losing the money he had found was too great. He reached out, knife hand trembling. He knew the blade was sharp, how it would cut through the skin and muscle, tendons and arteries with ease. He was leaning over the bed now, the blade just inches from Gary’s throat.
Do it. Do it now. His hand trembled. He tried to force himself to go through with it, even as the voice willed him on. Come on, get it over with. One cut is all it’s going to take and you’re free and clear.
“I can’t,” he whispered.
You can. Make it fast. Do it in the most humane way you can.
He adjusted his grip on the blade, holding his breath as he touched the tip of the knife to Gary’s throat. He moved, groaning in his sleep and perhaps sensing the disturbance.
It was all it took to break his nerve. Lee backed away, leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Angry and frustrated, he went to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face and somehow both angry and relieved that he hadn’t gone through with it.
It’s not too late. Go back now and finish it.
“No,” he said, staring at the haggard stranger in the mirror. “Not without proof. Not unless I’m sure.”
The voice had no answer for that and left Lee alone. He went back to his room, physically and emotionally drained. Sleep however, as usual didn’t come. Instead, he lay on the bed watching night fade to day and clutching the box full of cash close to his chest.
***
He had spent the morning trying to contact Jenny, the numerous calls and texts going unanswered. He had even tried to call her mother to see if she could pass on a message, but the response had been hostile, to say the least. Frustrated, he had given up.
The events of the previous night were still with him. He hadn’t spoken to Gary or been able to look him in the eye all morning and had taken to standing at the door, smoking and staring at the overgrown, weed-filled garden. He had come close to ending his lodger’s life, way closer than he ever thought possible. It was by some miracle of restraint that he had stopped himself and was grateful for it. He glanced over his shoulder, blue smoke billowing from his nostrils. Gary had gone, retreated upstairs to his room no doubt before heading out for the day to wherever it was that he went.
Or to your room. The voice whispered to him.
He paused, cigarette halfway to his lips. The door was closed but could only be locked from inside. His heart surged, adrenaline spiking and rage bubbling in the pit of his stomach. Nobody was going to take what was his, especially not a waster piece of shit like Gary. He tossed the cigarette on the ground, ash flaking away as he ran through the house, taking the steps two at a time. His bedroom door was open, Gary standing inside.
“What are you doing in here?” Lee said, aware how high pitched his voice sounded.
Gary stared, Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to find some way to articulate. He looked like some kind of animal staring down an approaching vehicle and knowing it’s time was up. The rage inside Lee was all consuming, surging through his veins, blood pounding in his temples. The knife was on the bedside table. Both men saw it at the same time, but Lee was quicker, snatching it up by the handle and pointing it at his intrusive roommate. The rational side of him screamed at him to think about what he was about to do and how the wrong decision would change everything, but he couldn’t hear it. The rage was too strong.
“Take what’s mine will you? Try to steal my future?” Spit flecked his shirt as he hissed the words. Gary said nothing, holding his palms up, Adam’s apple still dancing as he stared wide eyed.
Lee didn’t see a person anymore. He saw an enemy, someone trying to take his future. The decision had been made. It was human nature. Only the strong survived, and man’s primal instinct was to win at all costs. He expected to engage in a scuffle, a tense fight backed up by an even more intense musical score like in just about every action film he had ever seen. The reality was quite different. There was no fight in Gary. He cowered, not realising until the blade pierced his flesh for the first time what was happening. He began to beg and plead, but Lee heard none of it. He was in a frenzy, driven on by an all-consuming bloodlust as he brought the blade down, again and again, great sprays of blood coating the walls, his clothes, his skin. He didn’t care. All that mattered to him was the money. The money for his future. Even when Gary stopped screaming and there was only the pulpy sound of blade on flesh to punctuate the silence, he still didn’t stop. It was only when he couldn’t move his arm anymore that he collapsed to the floor, blade still embedded in his dead lodgers face that he realised how far he had gone. He stared at the mess he had made.
So much blood. More than he could have ever imagined possible.
Calm down. It’s just meat. The hard part is done now. Usually, he would try to ignore the voice in his head, but now knew he would need to rely on it in order to know what to do next.
The first thing you need to do is get rid of the body.
“How do I do that?” he said, clutching his aching shoulder. He was sure that in the frenzy of the attack, he had pulled a muscle or damaged something. It screamed at him and he couldn’t even close his hand.
Drag it to the bathroom and put it in the bath. Let it drain out in there.
It.
Not a person anymore. Just a thing. Just meat.
He did as the voice said, acting in some kind of distant delirium and grabbing Gary under the armpits and dragging him away. One of his pumps came off, exposing one of those filthy socks. It was hard work. The pain from his shoulder made moving the body tricky. He glanced down into what was left of Gary’s face and regretted it. He knew it would be something he would never be able to forget, money or no money. He bundled the body into the bath, bright red blood smearing the white tiles, the floor. It was everywhere.
Alright, the voice said. You need to cut it up into smaller pieces.
“No, I can’t do that,” he whispered, feeling his gut tighten and somersault at the idea.
You don’t have a choice. There’s a saw in the shed. Use that. Arms at the elbows and shoulders. Legs at the knees and groin. Head off too. The blood will drain away.
“I can’t.” He knew he was close to losing it. Sanity seemed like a distant thing to him now as this, his new reality of his situation, started to sink in.
Snap out of it bucko. We have a job to do here and I’ll be damned if I’m going to prison just because you don’t have the balls to do this. Now go get the saw. Do it now before you lose your nerve.
He didn’t want to but knew he was too far in now to back out. As much as he was growing to hate that voice in his head, he was unable to ignore it. He ran downstairs, glad the back garden was private and not overlooked. He went to the shed and grabbed the saw as instructed. On his way back through the kitchen, he also grabbed a roll of bin bags from under the sink. He went back to the bathroom, almost losing his footing in the blood which covered the floor. He put the saw and the bags down on the floor then knelt by the bath.
Alright, that’s good. The voice said. Now start cutting. Sooner it’s done, the sooner we can move on from this.
Day melted into night, and Lee did unspeakable things he could never imagine possible. Tears, vomit, regret, pain. All things that he experienced as he dismembered his lodger. It was worse than he could ever imagine. The mess, the blood. Even the smooth, calming tones of the voice in his head could no longer keep him from the near breakdown he was sure was coming. The thing that kept him going was the idea that once it was done, he could tell Jenny about the money and start to rebuild their lives.
When he was finished, he sat in
the chair in the living room, completely drained, broken physically and mentally. The body parts were still to be bagged up, but he couldn’t face anymore. The act of cutting it up was more than enough for one day. He was exhausted, and desperately wanted sleep, however, he was too afraid to close his eyes for fear of what he might see. He wondered if he would ever sleep again. Instead, he drifted in a half doze, broken and doing all he could to avoid thinking about the terrible things he had done. His head dropped and he snapped back to semi-consciousness as bloody, mangled amalgamations of his roommate drifted out of his psyche. His exhausted body though wouldn’t stay awake and his head fell again. This time, when he woke, he saw Jenny standing in the doorway, the handbag he’d bought her the previous Christmas clutched to her chest. He was sure she was a dream, some kind of illusion brought out by his broken mind as a means to fool him until she spoke and he realised she was actually there.
“What’s happening here, Lee?” she asked, watching him. He imagined how he must look, covered in blood, eyes dark from lack of sleep. He wanted to answer her, but no words would come that he knew to accurately describe what had happened.
“The neighbours called me. They said they heard shouting. And the calls to my parents…. What’s going on?”
His lips were dry, his tongue stubborn and unmoving on the floor of his mouth. “I had to do it,” he managed to say, blinking away tears. “I had no choice.”
“Do what? Lee, I’m scared, what are you talking about?”
He could see it in her eyes. There was no love there, not yet anyway. But there was plenty of fear. He supposed he could understand that under the circumstances. “The lodger, Gary. He wanted to take it. I had no choice. He’s…. It’s in the bathroom.”
She backed away, and he hated what he saw in her eyes. She was afraid of him, and that hurt him even more than anything he had been forced to do to Gary. He watched as she went upstairs, waiting for the scream, waiting for the chance to explain.
A minute passed. Then two. Curious, he went upstairs, careful not to step in the coagulated blood which trailed down the hallway. He could see her standing in the bathroom, her petite frame so perfectly formed by the overhead light that it took his breath away.
She turned to him, cheeks flushed, brow furrowed. “What is this, Lee?”
“Please, just try to understand. It’s just meat. That’s how you have to think about it. All this, all the blood…. We can clean it. We can fix it. You and me together, just like always.”
“What blood? I don’t understand.”
“This,” he said motioning to the floor then grabbing his t-shirt and pulling it out towards her. “All this. The mess in the bathtub.”
“Lee, you’re scaring me.”
“Don’t be afraid, we can clean it. We can make that new start, the one I always promised to give you.”
“There’s nothing here. No blood on the floor. No blood on you.”
“Are you blind? Just look at me!” he snapped, glancing at himself in the mirror above the sink. It was plain to see. His face spattered with blood, his clothes drenched with it. The floors, the walls. He flicked his eyes to the bath and the jumbled up mass of body parts inside. “What about him? Surely you can’t deny that?”
She was crying now, lip trembling as she backed away. “The bath is empty. You’re scaring me.”
He laughed a manic, shrill cackle which melted away when he took a second glance. The bath was empty. He blinked, then looked at her as if she had performed some kind of impossible illusion. “He was there. My lodger, Gary. I cut him up, see. I had to.”
“What lodger? You’re not making any sense.”
“I took a lodger when you left. Rented out the box room.” He glanced at the closed door to his right. Gary’s room. He reached out a bloody (clean) hand and opened the door. Gary’s bed wasn’t there, nor were his clothes scattered on every surface or the stale fart and cum smell. Inside were the boxes. Things they hadn’t unpacked or couldn’t find a place for. Things that had been there since they moved in.
He looked at Jenny again, frowning. “What did you do with him?”
“You’re not well, I… I called the police. I think you need some help.”
“It’s impossible. He was here. He’s been fucking living here!” She flinched as he slammed his fist on one of the boxes stacked by the door, spilling the various books out onto the dusty floorboards. “I swear to you, baby. I’m not making this up. I’ll prove it to you.”
He ran for the bedroom. Ingoing the fact that the streaks of blood on the floor had disappeared as had the blood on his clothes. He yanked open the wardrobe and pulled out the shoebox, flipping the lid off. The money was there, fresh and crisp. The reason for his actions, the key to his new life, to their new life. He turned to go back to the bathroom, but she was standing in the doorway, still afraid, still looking at him like he was some kind of deranged monster.
“Look,” he said, thrusting the box towards her, grin wide and waiting for her approval. “A hundred and eighty thousand Jen, enough for us to start over. I found it outside. It was meant to be. Gary wanted to take it from me. From us, but I wouldn’t let him. That’s why I had to kill him.”
She backed away from him, pressing herself against the opposite wall.
“Don’t you see?” he said, thrusting the box towards her. “This is our fresh start. The one we always talked about.”
“It’s paper. It’s just paper.” She whispered.
“Don’t be stupid it’s not-” He looked into the box, breaking off mid-sentence. The money was gone. The box was filled with cut up rectangles of printer paper, each stack bound together with rubber bands. He frowned, confused, then looked at her again. “I don’t understand. It was right here.”
“Lee, you’re not well. Something has happened to you and you need help. I’m scared.”
She took it. Her and Gary, working together.
It was the first thing the little voice in his head had said for some time, and he had grown so used to flowing its advice, he didn’t doubt it for a second. “What did you do with it?” he said, tossing the box of paper aside.
“Lee, please, you’re scaring me now. You need to calm down.”
Don’t listen to her. She’s been fucking him behind your back. They worked together on this. Faked it so they could take your life, your money. They took you for a fool.
“No,” he said, flinching.
“No what? Lee, please, you’re making no sense.”
He wasn’t listening to her anymore. The voice in his head was all he could hear. Oh, they saw you coming alright, bucko. Fleeced you good. Tonight while you sit here wallowing in your own misery, the two of them will be going at it on an overpriced hotel bed covered in your money just like that movie. How do you like that?
“I won’t let you do it,” he said, glaring at her. “Either of you.”
This bitch will do whatever it takes to make sure you end up penniless. She already moved out, took the life you had and threw it away. You think she will stop at taking your money too?
“She wouldn’t. Would you?” he asked.
She didn’t answer, her eyes flicking towards the end of the hall and the steps.
You know what you have to do. You know the second time will be easier than the first. End her quick. It’s the only way to keep what is rightfully yours.
She saw it in his eyes just before he lurched for her. She didn’t even move, not quite expecting that he would ever hurt her and realising too late just how wrong she was. He grabbed her by the coat and threw her into the bedroom, hands clasped around her throat as he squeezed, the voices in his head driving him on. Police sirens, loud and piercing were coming closer but all he could think about were her eyes, which he watched go from pale blue to red as blood vessels burst and the life was driven out of her.
Red eyes. The devil’s eyes. The voice said, soothing him as he squeezed and she finally stopped fighting.
He was crying and laughi
ng, elated and angry. When it was done, he rolled off his dead wife and lay on the floor, listening to the police outside demanding to be let in. Ignoring them, he turned his head and looked under the bed, staring beyond Jenny’s corpse. The scissors and paper were under there, offcuts from where he had painstakingly cut out square after square of paper before placing them in the shoebox.
It was me all along.
He wasn’t sure if it was the voice in his head or him who had said that last, and in the end it didn’t matter. Both were one and the same. He knew it was over, he knew he had suffered some kind of breakdown that had cost him everything. Even as the police broke in and searched for him, shouting for him to come out, still he didn’t panic or try to escape. There was no point. Reality for him was now an illusion, for all he knew the police were as much a part of his imagination as Gary had been. He hoped that was the case. Lee took a last look at Jenny, then closed his eyes and waited for them to come for him.
THE EYE
Timmy was desperate. He had known it for the last half hour, but he couldn’t tear himself away from the fantasy land of magic and monsters that was unfolding on the carpet of his bedroom floor. For a while, crossing his legs had worked, but now even that was doing nothing to fend off the sharp ache in his belly. He set down the toys and hopped to his feet, leaving the Beast Lord Ragnock and his companions in situ as he hurried towards the bathroom. He charged down the hallway as his mother’s disinterested voice, automatically activated by the sound of his feet padding on the carpet drifted to him from downstairs.
“Timmy, slow down.”
Timmy didn’t answer. He hit the brakes and slid to a halt outside the bathroom, went inside and slammed the door behind him.
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