Mutilator from the Grave

by Thomas, P M

  With the love they had, all that mattered was each other. They were richer than all the monarchs in the world.

  Victor and Indria were not simply grinding and digging into the flesh, they were burrowing deeper than that, searching to the soul within and when there, solidifying their love for one another, a tangible love that no would could claim or take, it was all theirs. Their hearts could never belong to any other, it would forever beat for Victor and Indria.

  Everyone else was muted, invisible to their eyes, they could not look at another woman or man. Should one fall for them, they would have to find someone else who was free and looking for love, because it could not be given by either of these two who were occupied sharing their love between themselves.

  It was the way the world of love worked, it could be crazy and it could be sweet, at the end, there was one certain guarantee: their love could never die.

  Reaching the flowing centre of their lover, filling their soul with the undying power of their love realized, the two lovers rested in the elated haven of each other's arms, spending the scant remaining moments of the night in a loving wholeness. They were completed, nothing would tear them apart and separate their love.

  No one could prize these two from one another's tight embrace, they were bound together in a symbiotic hold. Even if their bodies were apart, their spirits were connected, always with each other, no matter how far, no matter what.

  That unforgettable origin to their love was one for their private history book of the most beautiful memories, the day they met, marking the beginning of an epic new chapter in their lives and the night they loved a whole lifetime and more.

  That was one year ago, since then, they had continued to love innumerable lifetimes following their grand debut. Their love was thriving as strongly as when they started off. For a glorious three hundred and sixty five days, they had basked in its ambrosial glow and would resume loving in its wondrous light.

  But like every light, there was always a darker side, a colder world distant from the warmth. And the light of love was the same, there was a world of shadows walking behind the more illustrious region, following its every trace.

  Victor and Indria were unaware of its presence, like all shadows, it remained a covert body, hidden in the dark, but there, watching and waiting. No one knew when and where it would strike, but it always did, when one least expected it.

  In their case, it was in the form of a hopeless soul, a rival who was out of his league and loathed the self-awareness of knowing his chances with her were lower than zero. He never had any luck with members of the opposite sex, not as a young man and neither when he was a young boy. His first ever crush was the harshest, he was too young to fully comprehend it at the time, in retrospective it was an agonizing ordeal. Pairing up with the girl he liked on a field trip only to have her resent every second spent in his company, he tried talking to her, expressed his innocent feelings for her, she rejected him with a cruel spite. In the playground, he foolishly attempted to make it up to her, to try and impress her, to at least have her like him. She only had one thing she wanted from him, to go away and leave her alone for good.

  That day was a sign, a hint that things would stay the same from then. He was the loneliest number going, one that was rejected by all and any. He was the living definition of a hopeless romantic, he was a romantic who had no hope of ever giving his love to any soul. If his skeletal features did not repulse the shallow minds of the girls he encountered, his shy nature made him awkward in their company.

  It was one of the cruellest fates he had the misfortune to be inflicted with. He thought about love, but not once did love think about him, and it never would. How he managed to last as long with the crippling amount of emotional pain weighing down on his being was a mystery. He figured it was his faint hope of one day defying his cruel heritage and actually have his moment to shine in the harmonious splendour of love.

  And it appeared, at long last, he had found the ideal one to finally know what it really meant to love and be loved.

  A beautiful angel to grace his life from the heavens. He had to have her, had to be with her, to hold her, to kiss her, to make love with her.

  His biological clock was ticking away, a quarter of his life had already been wasted, it wouldn't be long until the rest was squandered too and then he would not have any hope of giving any form of love to a woman.

  She was the means of sharing his emotions before the time was up. There was just one slight hitch, she already had a boyfriend, and he was no competition for a guy like him. There was no way she would break up with a handsome and perfect looking man for someone who could fit well in a horror movie as a monster. He didn't require much prosthetic make up and effects, his face already appeared monstrous.

  The young hopeless romantic could not do much except wait, he had waited a whole year and still there was no differences made, their love showed no signs of ending soon or later. Despair was overtaking him, and when that happened, he did the only solution to fix his problems, he drank until the pain ceased, and that night like every other was no different.

  The hopeless romantic sat in his regular spot, drinking his regular glass of vodka, basked in the same regular lively environment while sticking out like the odd one out, drowning in his own wallowing self pity.

  A familiar voice called out to him, referring to him by his name, Egor. It was strange hearing his name mentioned, it gave him the illusion that he really was a human being like all the rest and not some discarded reject.

  The cool and slick looking guy who had a swagger and edge to him sat on the other seat. He was the closest Egor would ever get to having a friend. He often wondered why someone who had the confidence and the charms to pull any woman at the club would spend his nights talking to someone who belonged in a nightmarish wax museum.

  Egor wondered if it was to increase his friend's image to the opposite sex, making himself appear even more desirable in comparison to the guy seated on the other end. Maybe he took pity on the poor, lonesome wretch, felt an obligation to look out for him like a big brother towards his more vulnerable younger sibling.

  It didn't really matter, beggars could not be choosers, he appreciated the support of Alyosha, at least he had someone to speak to and share his woes with, it helped ease his torment slightly, he deeply needed some kind of relief from his pain, and tonight of all nights, he would be getting a release from his suffering and something much more.

  4

  Alyosha could see his friend was looking more glum than usual, his long sagging face had dropped even lower than it could.

  He did the brotherly thing and asked what was bothering Egor tonight, the same old thing he assumed, still having trouble getting laid. He had promised to find someone who would be willing to sleep with him, he may have had no luck so far but there had to be a woman out there who could look past appearances and see beauty within. Finding one like that was a rarity in this day and age, but there had to be at least one.

  Egor opened up to his friend, confiding in him as he did before and would likely be doing for years to come.

  He explained his current pressing troubles, he had found the girl of his dreams, he would give anything to share the romance to end all romances with her, to show her that behind his beastly visage was a handsome soul yearning to be freed. If only she wasn't already taken with someone he could only call “the perfect man”.

  They were inseparable, they spent every day and every night together, he could attest to it as he had been prying into their love, watching their every affectionate moment, fantasizing in his mind that it was him and her doing all those romantic things, living to the fullest with their prosperous love in full motion.

  His romances were always reserved to his wildest imagination, there he could be desirable and loved without any prejudice, without any risks of facing any rejection. If only reality could have been like a fantasy.

  Egor wept under his thin hands, his cries masked by the pumpin
g sounds of the club music, his troubles invisible to the patrons all enjoying their lives, having no time to fret over the problems of others.

  It wasn't fair, why was he the only man on the face of the earth that was denied such a beautiful gift, he valued it greater than any other and would cherish it for years on end, he would make it last a lifetime.

  He was not like those who took it for granted and did not appreciate the bountiful riches they were graced with. Why were they entitled to it and not him, it was maddening, every time he dwelled on it, he was pushed closer to the brink of despair.

  His friend patted him on the shoulder, comforted him the best way he could: suggested finding someone else, there were plenty of fish in the sea, no sense waiting for one that had already been caught.

  Egor could not, she was all he wanted, there would never be another prized catch like her, not in his life. There was no other woman who made him feel the way she did, she was the one, he could sense it.

  He was at a loss, reaching his wits end, he didn't know what to do. He would give anything to be with her, but could not due to an unfair situation.

  Alyosha had one solution, he had been contemplating it for several years, he never brought it up because he figured Egor would not be willing to pay the hefty price of claiming the unattainable, he would object, claiming it was not the right way to go about it, he would prefer love to be given willingly. In the desperate state he was in, a measure like this was the one that could be the answer to all his problems.

  Egor was different now than he was then. After the ceaseless amount of rejection and the dawning fact that he would never acquire a woman the natural way, his friend figured it was the perfect time to bring it up.

  Alyosha had a big connection, one that could get Egor what he wanted with no hassle at all, there was nothing he couldn't handle. His contact had an entire syndicate at his disposal and wasn't afraid of using as much manpower as necessary to get the job done. His cool, edgy friend was positive his connection could handle a little subject of love.

  Egor stopped his sobbing, rose his sagging eyes from his bony fingers. There was a spark of light at the end of his dark tunnel after all. He was all ears, he didn't care what it took, he wanted Indria so badly, nothing else mattered.

  His friend thought he would feel that way. Alyosha stood up, told his hopeless romantic to follow him, he was going to take him to the one man in all Russia who could fix his deteriorating problem. Egor got up with a rearing zest, his heart raced with immense vigour, he could barely contain his anxiety. His endless years of being unloved by a woman would be coming to an end. He would follow his friend to the ends of the earth for that incredible opportunity. The unattainable would finally be attained.

  Indria would be his.

  5

  Egor was lead past the veil of the nightclub, the mirage to convince the naked eyes it was a legitimate, honest business and opened the sunken man's eyes to the truth of the establishment, what it really was behind the illusion.

  The club was a front, camouflaging their true operation, one that was not smiled upon by society, or more appropriately, the law.

  The hopeless romantic was entering a world he had never expected to see for himself, that of the criminal underworld.

  Alyosha was good friends with the guy who owned the club and operated the syndicate in the area, he was a powerful man. He only needed to click his fingers and whatever task was accomplished in seconds flat.

  Other organizations, even the police themselves, feared him. His name alone struck a chord to any who heard it. No one dared speak it unless it was in respect, otherwise they would be on a one way flight into the canals with rocks tied to their feet, never to come back from their trip. One had to have a death wish or balls the size of huge boulders to even think of opposing him and living to talk about it.

  His name was: Evengi Borisovitch, the son of the famous crime lord Sergei, a man who was triple as deadly and fearsome as his pride and joy carrying on the family's legacy of having the strongest and influential criminal organization in all of Russia.

  Egor swallowed a hard lump clogging at his throat, he was starting to develop second thoughts about this, getting involved with the Mafia and being indebted to them was perhaps a price too high to pay for love. He was not a gangster, he did not have what it took to carry out cloak and dagger jobs for them.

  Alyosha laughed at his friend's concerns, he had nothing to worry about. Evengi was a reasonable man, he would not force Egor to a life of organized crime to pay back a debt, he had been watching too many movies, painting an exaggerated misconceived view of the syndicate. Evengi was well aware of Egor, if he could not score with even one woman, he could not count on someone like him to deliver laundered goods or execute any opposition.

  There was a feeling of relief and offence taken upon hearing that. Egor wasn't going to argue against a man who could have a bullet put him in with the blink of an eye. He would forget about it, it wasn't worth debating over.

  A man in Egor's position could do nothing except grovel at the man's polished shoes and beg his request be granted.

  The crime boss would want nothing more from his skeletal friend than a small percentage from him, payment for his services, then there would be no obligations, their business would be done and the criminal lord would wash his hands of any connection with his latest client, it would be as if they had never met to begin with.

  Naturally, Egor would have to do the same, pretend he never had any contact with him, otherwise they would be paying him a visit and it would not be so pleasant. Egor caught his friend's drift, Alyosha and Evengi had no need to worry, his lips would be sealed. He would be too grateful of his favour to cause him any grief, or himself.

  At the door to the man's office, Alyosha gave it his familiar knock, signalling to the crime boss and his bodyguards that it was a friend requesting a moment of his time to see him, no danger or fuzz to be concerned about.

  A stern and fearful voice spoke on the other end of the room, granting him access into the office. Egor took a deep breath and stepped in with his friend at his side. His palms were dripping in sweat, his heart was beating harder, he had never been in the presence of a Mafia boss before. He was in awe standing at the desk of the well dressed, sharply looking, imposing man in his mid twenties seated at the other side.

  Twenty five years old and he already had an entire city in his hands, a police force on his payroll, running a powerful organization with a reach that was venturing further than his own father's, and numerous rivals dead at his feet or submitting to his empire.

  That was an impressive accomplishment, more than what Egor had achieved in his years of studying.

  Evengi lit up a cigar, took a long drag from it, blew a ring of smoke into Egor's face. The potent smell sent him coughing hard. A smirk curved on the crime lord's cold and imposing face, the skeletal lovelorn kid was just as frail as Alyosha had said in their frantic nights of heavy drinking and drug taking, partying like the animals they were after a hard days work of legitimate and unofficial business.

  The crime lord spoke frankly to the nervous, intimated bag of bones sitting in front of him, his friend had mentioned that he desperately needed to get laid, he was in luck, Evengi had the best prostitutes in his employ, all clean and all willing to give him whatever he required to get off on them, for the right price, of course.

  Egor politely explained that was not why he was there. He sought a specific woman, one who did not work for him.

  The crime boss leaned forward, intrigued to hear what the stuttering excuse of a man had in mind and what he required Evengi to do for him.

  The hopeless romantic told the crime boss of his troublesome situation and the bothersome problem it presented him. In all his years of requests, Evengi had not heard one of this calibre, it was original, much like Egor himself.

  Evengi leaned back into his seat, inhaled another long drag from his fine Cuban cigar, blew the smoke into the air, the clo
ud turned blue from the neon light hanging over the office, his status of power and respect earned over the years of starting from the gutter doing all sorts of jobs, from killing a rat in the works, to collecting protection money from the local store, to monitoring the next shipment of coke off the harbour, to even running one of the many brothels. All gaining him the high position he was in due to his father's businesses.

  His father did not believe in simply handing his son the means of authority in the syndicate, he did not hand him a cushy spot in the organization on the count he was his son. His own flesh and blood would have to earn his rank like he had to do when he was Evengi's age. It made the position of boss much more meaningful when it was strived for. He would have the edge to maintain his mighty status and fight with no restraint against any who opposed him. Evengi would not allow any to dethrone him, it was his empire to control, he worked for it, the fruits of his labours were his to savour.

  Evengi would grant the skinny man's request of having the woman named Indria. He required the details about her, where she lived, who she was seeing and what she looked like. And as for the competition, the crime lord would take care of that with no problem either. Egor only had to give the word and the girl of his dreams would be his reality. As for Indria's obedience to fulfilling her duty as a lover to Egor, the crime lord had ways of persuading any to see it his way, unless they desired facing a busy highway.

  And as for the payment, Evengi was sure they would reach an agreement when the time called for it. In the meantime, Egor just had to fulfil his side of the bargain. The skeletal romantic leapt off his seat, shook the criminal lord's hand with intense vigour, he had some strength in those skinny sticks he called arms.