TBK: The Butterfly Killer

by A. P. Butler

  The Vacuum sucked into life, as the sound of air being pulled through tiny holes of the cannula made a very distinctive, and ominous sound. The father's eyes wide with fear as agony once again made love to him while I pushed the blade of paring knife into the bulbous belly of his ageing skin. It always looked easy on YouTube, but in reality, it’s much harder to push the blunt metal probe through fat than one would think, now and then I had to stab at it to force my way through. My stitching was holding up to everything so far, but I wasn’t sure for how long, with each stroke the pain grew as the fat of the land reduced.

  The little vacuum blubbered away in the background as I was consumed with the delightful sounds of Bach and muffled cries for penitence. My enjoyment for this simple little procedure was only interrupted when the head of my patient dropped once more. “Adrenaline please!” “Right you are lady quack!” Lilly and Ubel joked as I draw another 0.5 mg of the clear clinical smelling salts of epinephrine into the syringe. The father's eyes flashed open as the drug dragged him back into reality, welcoming him back with a big beautiful smile of reprisal. “If you’re hanging uncomfortably father we can continue.”

  He stared to the heavens, praying for salvation, for a sign of hope that his purgatory would soon end, unfortunately, his narcissistic deity must have been otherwise engaged as his prayers would remain unanswered. The home-style liposuction was a great success, the belly of the father, grown from decades of Catholic excesses and abuse was now as limp and empty as a politician's promise.

  “He’s gonna need excess skin surgery now Elsbeth.” Ubel was right we had solved one problem but only to reveal a new predicament.

  “But Elizabeth dear, we don’t have a method to control his bleeding, unless the blow torch would suffice?”

  “Well, we could do a spot of ironing Elsbeth, or just use the blow torch like spunk face suggested, I’m sure that will work, eventually.”

  “Elizabeth can we not torture the man-pig while we’re at it?”

  “Living with you is torture enough dog breath.”

  “The best thing about you Ubel is you are old enough to be close to death!”

  “If you’re finished children can we get back to the fun?”

  The small smooth edge of the blade cut nicely into the loose skin about half way down the father's torso. Eventually, I managed to hack across the top, making the father look like a fur-less kangaroo. The little knife was not the ideal tool for the job, but the big heavy electric carving knife was. Two shiny blades mated to create a wondrous instrument of carvery, with a reassuring click they copulate with electronic handle as the ominous sound of reciprocating blade filled the room. With ease it ripped into the father's loose skin, leaving a huge flap of excess dangling down like a bloodied butcher's waist high apron. Blood ran freely from his new attire, causing his struggle with reality to lighten.

  The hiss of the gas filled the air as I twisted the little black control knob towards the plus sign. The flame burst into life as thumb dropped upon red ignition button beneath, the flame quickly changed from orange to blue as air was sucked into my little inferno. One large blue flame shrouding a hotter smaller darker flame within, the flesh melted as fat burst into flame, spitting and popping as the bleeding subsided before stopped altogether. I had to continue the father's treatment for about five minutes, now and then backing off to prevent him from hiding behind devil’s protection, but a second or two of relief was enough to chase the dark lord away.

  “He looks hungry Elizabeth; we should feed him.”

  “What would you suggest Lilly?”

  “He’s enjoyed the fat of the land Elsbeth, what about his own fat-based energy drink?”

  “Ubel if your face weren't as deformed as defecation I’d kiss you.”

  “Well, Lilly it would appear my face is not as disgusting as your personality.”

  “Children….Please!”

  The top of the vacuum popped off releasing a most obnoxious smell, a mixture of blood and bright yellow fat staring back at me, like great blobs of butter it bobbled about. “Might need a little blend first Elsbeth dear.” Snapping shut the top, trying to fight the urge to vomit, which I thought I was winning, unfortunately, only for a few seconds as the lid came off, and I added my breakfast to the fat and blood below.

  “Adding a little protein and carbs Elsbeth darling, very thoughtful of you.”

  “God, you’re a sick little man-pig Ubel.”

  -1-

  The black elastic strap pulled tight around my head, as the blue fume mask sealed itself tightly over my nose and mouth, the immaculate pair of safety goggles slid effortlessly over my ears, resting securely upon my covered nose. Black elbow length rubber gloves completed the look, along with the snow white rubber apron and dark red Wellington boots, I was ready to prepare the father's last supper. The little hand held blender struggled for the first twenty or thirty seconds until enough fat cells had been ruptured and releasing their lubricating goodness. The mixture turned into a runny viscous pink power drink, a delicate creamy froth covering its top.

  “If only we had some chocolate powder to sprinkle on top Elizabeth.”

  “What, like a flabappuccino!”

  “Ubel!”

  The narrow plastic tube proved difficult to force between the stitches of lip, then down the father's throat, he didn’t want to cooperate, but a little belly fat lubrication and the blow torch upon his testicles resolved both issues. Kiri and I’d obtained the smallest diameter tube used in force feeding, allowing him to be fed and breath at the same time. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten to buy a suitable container, so I made a temporary reservoir out of a plastic funnel and more life-saving duct tape, finally hanging the makeshift apparatus upon rusty nail above.

  Finding only a used metal tin from outside, I carefully transfer the pink energy drink to the red funnel. “Shame we had to by-pass his taste-buds Elsbeth.” To which I had to agree, it would have been gratifying to watch him struggle with his gag reflexes as the obnoxious liquid slowly trickled down his throat.

  “Pull the tube out a bit Elsbeth; let's see if he can taste himself.”

  Slowly I pulled back upon the tiny tube; the father's eyes watered as the tube recanted until the inevitable happened. As head bucked up and throat bulged the fathers taste-buds kissed his excess forcing his mouth to budge as bile filled his world. Between sutured lips, his bile spurted as pressure mounted, “Swallow it down like a good little boy.” My words from a past crime now returned to owner as I watched him fight to bite back the bile as air became a distant friend. Almost an hour it took for the foul, odorous liquid to slide its way down the tube into his stomach, but the knowledge the father would now have the energy to enjoy all future treatments made it all worth while. We let his last meal settle for a while as we prepared his next cleansing right of passage.

  The lye power fizzed and bubbled as it mixed with the putrid larva infected ground water I’d scavenged from outside, more so as I swirled it around in the large glass conical container. Slipping clear rubber tube over shiny smoothness of metal enema probe I married the pair with a generous helping of trusty grey killers tape. The cold metal probe would require a little lubrication, but I’d yet to mix any, my mind reminisced to a time the father had lubricated me as a young girl, spitting upon its shiny bulbous end. The father was reluctant to accept his fate at first, but a swift stabbing motion accompanied by vengeful hate and furrowed brow resolved any resistance, the probe sliding into a full and firm insertion. The makeshift hook of earlier sustenance provided the perfect assistance for holding the enema flask full of now fizzing lye high above, its spite-filled bite bubbling away for all to admire.

  The caustic solution of god’s breath slid with ease past the glass tap, trickling its way down, winding and turning it went as it made its way to new home. Vengeful saliva lapping with cleansing power most evident as the father let out a jolt of wide-eyed pain, the solution had reached its destination, now starting its purification. A
gony now surpassing any requirement for silence as he let out a terrifying screech. Cotton stitches ripping tiny paths through lip as he howled, a garbled mixture of pain and blood now filled the air. My elation most evident as I let free the pent-up anger of a stolen childhood, joyfully jumping into the air with clapping hands and delighted smile. “How does it feel father? Are you enjoying the warm feeling inside?” My words stabbing at him, the same words he’d used all those years ago.

  “There truly is nothing more pleasurable than the pain of others Elsbeth my dear.”

  Divine intervention not present here, sometimes it took for lye and blood to find its way free, the now bloody pink solution trickled down either leg, burning away the skin as it went. The green rubber of syringe pressed down forcing adrenaline in; feverishly I tried to prolong his pain, I didn’t want the father to miss his purification. Tapping the side of the plastic bottle the oxalic acid crystals snow flaked their way into the cool dirty waters, dissipating as they fell into solution. The Lye solution now all but gone, but the father's torment only just beginning, the acidic solution would provide temporary relief to the caustic burning of lye. But only until it had won the battle of the bases, turning from alkaline to acid, all within the confines of his now cathedral-sized rectum.

  “Quite sure he’s gonna need erectile dysfunction medication now he’s misplaced his prostate, Elizabeth.” Lilly’s comment serving only to prolong the father's agony as my satanic trinity folded over with hysterical hilarity, not funny her quip, but emotionally drained I was by then. Regaining my composure, I could tell the father wasn’t doing so well keeping hold of reality, his pain starting to overpower the epinephrine in a never ending battle for control of the senses. His eyes rolled back, showing only the whites, twitching up then down, the soothing acidic solution offered a welcome rest bite from his reality, until its acidic bite took control and bit deep.

  “Think he’s done for the day Elizabeth, my dear.”

  “Hate to say it Elsbeth but the old hag’s right.”

  “Yes, guy’s, let's go home and relax, I feel the refreshing call of a 1724.”

  “Ubel if your IQ were a liquid it would be frozen.”

  “And you’re shallow enough to make an atom look thick Lilly!”

  “Come on guy’s let’s go to the hotel and release some tension.”

  Tertio die - Absolution

  The morning drifted by as I lay relaxed and contented, no need to rush the inevitable, Ubel and Lilly were in good spirits, joking and tease each other as I stole moments of feathered heaven from duvet and plush deep pillows. It’s strange at times they can be with me but not at the same time, as if they’re in a different room far away, I can hear them but their presence no longer overpowering.

  The morning was almost an adolescent when I finally freed myself from my downy love affair, the cool waters of a mid-morning shower washing away the cobwebs of the night before. Twenty years ago today the father had ripped me apart in a spite-fuelled attack of such barbarity I almost died, today was to be my vengeful retribution. Today I intended to rape him in the same way he had me and countless others. Today I felt alive as if I were in the vortex of a great evil storm of my own creation, my mind wandered from crime to crime as I enjoyed a full and delicious breakfast, all washed down with the juice of a million fresh oranges and a small plantation of caffeinated clarity.

  The streets were a hive of life all bathed in a glorious golden sun as I stepped outside, the smell of deep fried everything was almost winning in the airborne battle with decaying rubbish and toxic coughing of a million motorcycles. Getting to the end of the street turned into a demolition derby as tuk-tuk, car, truck and scooter all tried to go in different directions at the same time. Even with such calamity on the roads, the faces of everyone seemed to be awash with smiles and happiness. Every now and then someone having a bad day would shout something rude or derogatory in Khmer, but no-one ever seemed to take much notice.

  The streets started to clear a little the further Lola, and I travelled from city’s heart, heading south towards my new house of fun, my naughty little bolt hole, my Cambodian court. Eventually, the road opened out into the semi busyness of the main road, or tarmacked bouncy castle as it was affectionately known to the locals. My little pink tuk-tuk, Lola no longer a means of transport to me, she was now almost part of me, she had personality, a temperament like all living things, and I adored her, my objectum sexuality growing by the hour. As I guided her off the main road onto the red dusty dirt track of the now familiar drive towards my gospel palace, I could hear her rear suspension hiss a sigh of relief, almost as if she were as happy as I to be here once again.

  -1-

  The father's condition had diminished quite rapidly overnight as he’d succumb to a very unfortunate set of circumstances, as netting chased tail once more I could see Cambodia’s first airborne division had organised another nocturnal sortie again last night. After yesterday I didn’t think there was anywhere left unattended, but apparently, I was very much incorrect in that assumption. A mosquito banquet had taken place upon open flesh of now exposed stomach from yesterday's amateur hour tummy-tuck. Both drips again consumed entirely in the night, leaving the father now dehydrated and weak with infection.

  Squeezing down hard upon plastic containment of saline before hooking up a third, I tried to heighten his senses for the day's frivolities. The antibiotics were doing their best, but unfortunately, this was a battle they were never going to win. Connecting the last bag, I let it drip slowly through him, I’d no idea if this amount of antibiotics would help or hinder, but I also didn’t care too much. With only a few millilitres of adrenaline left today I’d to work fast, this beast of nature and raper of the innocent needed to experience the true pain of being forcibly entered before he could die, after that my ghosts and hate would die with him.

  “Good morning father rapist dear, I trust you’re feeling amorous this morning?”

  “Maybe he’s got a headache, Elizabeth?”

  “Well, sex is the best cure for that isn’t it Lilly.”

  “Elsbeth we should wake him up fully first, so he can enjoy the pleasure of god’s love.”

  The sun’s demonically hot this day of retribution as if even the sun goddess herself had crept a little closer to obtain a better view, the humidity in the netted room was oppressive at best. The interest the father had aroused in the local wildlife wasn’t helping the situation, but today was a symbolic day as much as a day of justice. The last few millilitres of the epinephrine were sucked through needle, like the gluttonous attack a chocolate milkshake the ampoule gargled as the last few drops were sucked away. Flicking top of plastic viper, no air bubbles to releases no lives to be saved.

  The drug surged through the father's broken, weak body, awakening his conscious like an unwelcome child does a parent, eyes now the only part able to communicate. The airborne division had infiltrated his mouth during the night, his tongue now quite swollen, not that I cared, as long as he was experiencing pain I was happy. His vacant stare confirmed he was indeed within the wings of Mademoiselle misery, their love affair about to take the next step. He held a look of a broken man, as soul clung upon the dying corpse of its former self, his pain made me smile with blissful ecstasy, I’d not felt this complete, this happy since laying in my Laura’s arms that first night of amour.

  “Where’s the thorny cross gone, Elsbeth?”

  “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking Ubel?”

  “Might be Lilly,” Ubel said with a mischievous childish hint in his voice.

  “You really are a sick little man Ubel, but I do love you for it.” Lilly finally appreciating Ubel’s strengths, at last, maybe they would finally embrace their differences allowing both to grow.

  “Not sure the rapist over there’s going to Lilly.”

  Ubel then, as if he were kneeling down, whispered his final request for the crucifix, his suggestion was not only exceptionally painful but also explained why
he had been so insistent on sourcing a few of the other items.

  The wallpaper paste mixed together well with the warm, mosquito infected waters left behind from yesterday's anal play. Today I was perfectly happy to go fully nude, I was wearing my new fashionable fragrance, 100% DEET by Samuel Gertler, not so fashionable in Paris, New York or London, but here is was all the rage. Today I wore enough to take out an entire squadron of airborne assassins at fifty paces, my air defences were up, the fun could finally begin. In fact, I’d applied so much this morning all I could smell was myself, the airborne ground crew evaporating as I walked in.

  “Mix it into a sweet paste Elsbeth, like a cheap quality lube.”

  “Well, I would say you’ll go to hell for this Elizabeth, but you came from there, so I suppose it’s all good.” Lilly joked around in my mind, Ubel just continued to hum a rather calming rendition of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake for some unknown reason.

  The large barbed wire crucifix was prickly and difficult to grasp well, proving even harder to tape to the shiny metal pole of the fucking machine, the sheer number of metal thorns she wore meant I had to use almost a roll of killer’s tape to bind the two in unholy matrimony. With crucifix now firmly fixed to thrusting arm of mechanical love, inverted symbolically so the father could experience being raped by a devil, as so many an innocent had been.

  Ubel’s idea to use oxalic acid and wallpaper paste as lube was quite the spark of genius, the thorny metal end of cross was quite difficult to insert, but with a few stern thrusts and a gloved handful of lube, the father accommodated God’s shiny grey phallus. A pathetic scream, a dead man’s scream was his only address to my actions as the thorny crown of satanic love nestled deep within. “You feel so tight my beautiful?” My only comment, the same words he’d spat at me twenty years ago, he’d said those words with cruelty and hate, I spoke them with the purest of vengeance and an unmeasurable depth of happiness.