Mutilator from the Grave

by Thomas, P M

  The hopeless romantic would have the title stricken at last, he would be a romantic with much hope, tonight would be the drastic change he sought after. It was better to receive it late rather than never at all.

  He would know what it meant to love someone and be loved back by that special someone in his life. His existence would have a meaning to it, he would actually be an important human being for once instead of a waste of space using up air that could have been reserved for somebody more worthwhile.

  Egor was about to finally know the touch, the feel and the joy of a woman. He placed his thin frame over her womanly physique, his sleek length pushed its way into her cavern, the wetness engulfed his manhood.

  He held onto his burning love with much resistance, the feeling of her womanliness was overwhelming. So that was what a woman felt like inside, it was so invigorating. He managed to hold on by a scant thread.

  Egor exceeded the expectations of the gangsters and their boss, even his own friend, they assumed he would have an accident and blow it the minute he entered her feminine domain. He had some credibility to him, he could hold his own in a woman.

  The skinny romantic would not have sex with Indria, he would do something with a lot more depth to it, he would make love to her, to show that he was different from the rest, to let her see that he was genuine, to have her feel that his feelings for her were as sincere as they came. He pushed himself in and pulled himself out at a gentle pace, his drawn in lips kissed at her cheeks and neck, his soft voice murmured sweet affections in her ears.

  He would treat her so right, like the sweet princess she was, he would shower her with so many kisses, tributes and all his feelings. He would present her with everything she wanted, he would do anything for her, just to see her smile.

  He would never betray her, never cheat behind her back and never lie to her. He would be truthful and loyal to her. He could not look at another woman, he only had eyes devoted to her and only to her.

  Indria was his dazzling, breathtaking and inspiring goddess among men that all dropped to their knees and worshipped like the great Aphrodite, great Venus and great Adonis that she was. He was her devoted, loyal subject most of all, absolutely.

  She and her divine, enchanting and raven beauty sent him down since the day he first laid his eyes on her, looking up at her empowering womanly glory and idolizing her with much true admiration and much true devotion. He had worshipped her with all his heart and soul, and he always would, for all the ages.

  His loving actions and words hit a wall, he was making love and speaking to a blank slate. Even when so close to her, touching her from within, giving her every last ounce of his deepest emotions finally released from his heart, laying himself bare to offer her his heart and soul in Victor's obsolete place, Egor was somehow still ignored by Indria, he was still invisible to her like all those times in the past. Nothing had changed in the slightest, he had moved one step forward and four steps back to square one.

  Despair came rushing back, the hope was snatched out his hands, there was never any hope to begin with, it was all an illusion to shield him from the truth. She would never love him, he meant nothing to her. All she cared about was Victor, now till the day she died. His endeavour to have her was a lost cause, invalidated the minute she laid eyes on her one, true love. Egor had no chance of winning her over, not even with the Russian Mafia on his side. They could not force her to love someone else. She would rather die than be with Egor or any other man. No gun, no knife and no fist would make her see otherwise.

  The hopeless romantic would forever be just that. What he was doing to her was meaningless between them, his affections were unfelt and unappreciated. Egor wept uncontrollably on her body, he pulled himself out her coldness, never to venture back in. The crippling sorrow drove Egor to the edge of madness, his haggard fingers coiled into a firm clenched fist. He was so tired of her rejection, he could not handle his emotions being discarded into the gutter like it was a piece of trash, he was infuriated by her stubborn attitude towards him. He had shown her his love, presented what a kind and caring man he would be to her, made it clear that he would make her feel special like she was, treating her so right and she had the nerve to turn her head to him and refuse him entry into her heart.

  To everyone's stunned silence, Egor lashed out on Indria, smashing his bony bare knuckles into her face, yelling down her throat to love him, to let him in. Her eyes bruised, her nose bled, her lips were split.

  She was pounded by endless physical pain, she did not yield to it, showed no emotion to his brutality, the pain her body was facing was superficial, it would heal eventually. She would not submit to the enraged skeleton and accept his terms. Her soul would remain with Victor, it could not break.

  That annoyed him further. Everything he was doing had no impact on her, tenderness and force were useless. All he was doing was wasting his own time and effort with every tempered blow dealt on her.

  Evengi ordered one of his men to prize the emotionally unstable wretch off the girl, he would end up killing her at that rate and there was still some business with her to attend to. The henchman grasped his arms around the fragile shape and yanked the bloody knuckled, sobbing mess of a man off the pummelled young woman.

  She looked just as bad as Victor did, the two soul mates had something else in common to make them kindred.

  Egor was thrown onto the floor, shaking and crying, huddling himself in a ball to try and comfort his own frail sanity. Evengi found it pathetic, never in his life would he stoop to that lower than dirt level, it made him sick to his stomach, he could not stand weakness in a man. His father had told him the only man is one with the strength to withstand anything life threw at them. Egor was not one of them.

  His boot to the sunken in gut silenced the pitiful excuse of a man. Evengi had acquired the winded bag of bones the woman he desired, he had his way with her, the deal had been done. The matter of payment had to be settled with and the crime lord had decided on what the pay would be: the girl herself.

  Evengi did not care if she was a lifeless fuck, he was not going to screw her for his pleasure, it was the means of fulfilling Egor's side of the bargain and closing the deal with both getting what they were promised. It was another part of the business, and as a businessman, he required his end to be obliged too.

  10

  Egor said nothing, he could not, if he went back on his word and called it off, Evengi would have put a bullet in him.

  It was too late for the hopeless romantic, they were all past the point of any return. Evengi was a strong believer in keeping to one's word. The hopeless romantic said he would give anything to see this night happen.

  Even if it was a complete mess and was nothing how Egor saw it going, that was not the crime boss' problem.

  He had got him the girl, that was all that mattered. Egor had received what he requested. If he did not like how it turned out, he should have stayed living in ignorance and relying on false hope. Instead he got more than he bargained for and resented every second of the hurtful truth of knowing he was going to be alone all his life.

  The realization of his own selfish actions dawned on the tormented romantic, he had come between two lovers and trampled all over their sweet flower for his own needs of growing the same thing himself with her, but in the end, no love could be emulated the same way. Egor was never meant to be with Indria, he could see that now. Had he saw it sooner, he would not have condemned two souls to their doom. But he was blinded by his own self-centred arrogance, the greed of wanting her for himself.

  In his desperation to steal Indria, he had stained his hands with their blood. He was just as guilty as the syndicate, even more so as he was the one to arrange it. The minute he shook hands with the crime lord, he had sold himself out, amounting to that of a lowlife. Egor was so ashamed and so sorry.

  Egor closed his eyes to the nightmare he had created, he could not bare to look at the decimated young lovers. It was all his fault, he was repulsed
at himself, there was no way he could ever find forgiveness.

  He did not deserve it and he knew it.

  Evengi pulled down his pants, keeping his suit on, he didn't have time to waste stripping down, he wanted to cut to the chase and get down to the business at hand. He rammed his thick spearhead and long pole into her recesses.

  He went at her with a furious aggression, he violated her so deep he could feel the warm sack of her womb. Had his length been sharper, he would have pierced through her and stuck right out the other end.

  His finger ran along her blood soaked face, placed it in his mouth. She tasted absolutely delectable, she was a sweet woman. He leaned to her lip, licked around the splits. He was right, Indria was as tasty as she looked.

  The crime lord bit at her lower lip, softly sinking it in to draw more blood, obtaining a good taste of her.

  His hand squeezed at her breasts hard, pinching his nails hard into her nipples, he was making the most of his asset, putting her to good use.

  Of all the men to ravage her that night, he was the most roughest of the bunch. Indria felt like her body was being torn apart from the inside. She pushed the throbbing agony aside, her eyes never left Victor with the other two, the same was applied with the repugnant crime boss too. Unlike the previous two, Evengi was not bothered, he kept at it, not wavering from his ravaging or stopping to vent any frustrations out on her for not doing as he seemed fit. His pace was the same, brutal and wild.

  It was such a thrill, he could have screwed her hard all night long. It wasn't like anyone was going to stop him. They would have had some serious screws loose to dare attempt going against the boss himself.

  One did, and surprisingly it was not Victor, he would have done if he could, he was at a severe disadvantage.

  The one nobody expected leapt up onto his feet and stormed at the bestial jack-hammer put on overdrive. The hopeless romantic went for Evengi, he got so far, close to pulling the thug in a suit off when he stumbled onto his knees, clutched at his stomach, exhaled a stunned gasp. The crime lord got him with a sudden elbow to the gut. He had to admit, the crime lord did not expect the weak mess of a man to have it in him.

  Egor would regret his decision to go against his work and turn against the man who dedicated his own time to grant his request. He would pay dearly for his actions, once he finished with marking his property.

  Evengi unloaded his burning hot resin into her, sealing the deal, the transaction was fully completed.

  The crime boss pulled up his pants, with both parties fulfilling their parts of the job, there was one matter to attend to. Evengi drew his colt single action army pistol from his suit jacket, aimed it at Indria and shot her point blank in the forehead.

  The dorm exploded in a booming yell from both Victor and Egor. Forgetting his pain, he did not care about being killed or injured, he had lost his reason for living, he would make the brutal animals who came in-between their lives and tore them apart from one another pay dearly with their lives, he was going to kill every last one of them, starting with the arrogant ring leader, he would take that gun and blow his brains out.

  Victor gained on the crime lord, the richness of his cologne whiffed up his nose, masking out the scent of blood, his hands reached out like claws to clutch at the savage beast who took the woman he loved from him.

  Evengi whirred around and fired, taking care of the other pressing matter. Victor dropped onto the bed, hanging lifeless over the body of Indria with a bullet in his head. That was the two eye witnesses sorted out with, the syndicate had served their purpose in the compact dormitory. As smooth and commanding as when he entered, Evengi headed out with his henchmen. His imposing voice spoke to the distraught romantic mortified at the bloodshed laid out before him. It was a pleasure doing business with him.

  The hopeless romantic looked to his friend, held out his bone thin arm, asking him to help him onto his feet. Alyosha did not stop to look at the pile of trash on the floor, he walked out the dormitory with Evengi and the rest of them, pretending he did not exist. When it came to his priorities and loyalties, Evengi was at the top.

  Alyosha could care less about the skeletal waste of space, he was nothing more than a tool to make himself look good in comparison and score him women with no sweat. It meant putting up with listening to Egor's constant sob stories, but it was worth it in the end when he was mounting some bleached blonde sultry minx with huge fake breasts and a neatly waxed private zone. He was using the hopeless romantic. But after tonight, he would need to find some other method of scoring with the babes.

  He had served his purpose well for those numerous years. But after interfering with Evengi's business and breaking his word, he could no longer show his face around the crime lord, that was unless he wanted a bullet in it. He had lost the organization's respect, not that they had much for him to begin with. He was lucky the boss did not shoot him. If he wasn't such a pathetic sight, Evengi would have done, but someone like him wasn't worth wasting a bullet over. There were more dignified people deserving of a worthy death like that.

  Egor was left lying naked in the dorm with the two slain bodies of Victor and Indria to hound him, to remind him of his terrible crime. They were shot dead by his own hands. Evengi may have used the gun but the hopeless romantic was the one to bring it upon the two innocent lovers. He might as well been the one to pull the trigger.

  What he had done could never be undone, he would have to live with the guilt until the day came when he would be punished for his actions.

  Judgement would not ignore his bloody deed, it would come down on him, Alyosha and Evengi with a vengeance. There would be no mercy and no salvation for any of them. They would be getting what was coming to them.

  All Egor could do was sit overwrought in the desolation around him, left with what he had wanted, he had separated the two lovers, disposed of the rival and had the girl of his dreams all for himself. It was not how he envisioned it, he was reduced to an empty shell of a man, rather than the full enriched soul graced with the love of his life.

  Life had a habit of not going as one expected it. Egor was a prime candidate to that.

  DEATH

  11

  Two years had passed since that tragic night, what was meant to be a festive celebration of love found became a horrific ordeal of love lost.

  Victor and Indria, the two lovers taken by the jealousy of another were buried side by side in the field dedicated to many lost lives. In the primes of their lives, with a love that had many decades to bloom higher, it was stripped from them. The only future for them was rotting away in a box, one with the earth that gave them life.

  Winter was in its full effect, the weather was as cold as death itself, it was at home in the city of the dead.

  The withered trees with barren branches hung over in the distance, the cold wind bringing with it an icy chill where no warmth could remain, the layers of snow burying the grass six feet under, the emptiness of concluded lives where the living did not dwell.

  In the dense shadows, a solitary figure stood at the tombstones engraved with the names of the two lost lovers, at each preserved slab of stone paying respect to the cruel story of two youths departed before their time, the gloved hands set down a rose each, giving his own respectful tribute to the couple.

  The shape paid a moment of silence to Victor and Indria, mourned the loss of such a beautiful gift stolen from them at the hands of fiends who walked free to this day, their hands washed of the blood of the two slain lovers.

  Cutting the ties of their responsibility in being involved in a heinous crime, absolved of their sins because in their eyes they had not committed one. There was not one single shred of remorse for their unconscionable actions. To them it was a sport, part of their order of business, two insignificant assets disposed of, no consideration that they had lives and were killed brutally in cold blood. It was two less in the over-abundant sphere. They were doing the world a favour that benefited themselves in the process. Ever
ybody was a winner, apart from the two in the wooden coffins with bullets lodged in their skulls.

  It was a crying injustice, that the innocent lay dead while the guilty remained alive, unpunished for their atrocities.

  Egor was the only one of the three to face the punishment of the crime created by his own two hands. He died two years ago with those same instruments which brought misery, torture and death upon two souls who did not deserve such a fate. Unable to live with himself for being responsible for their deaths, he had to end it by diving off into the abyss where he would forever remain at the bottom of the lake, never to surface.

  The figure, as mysterious and vague as he entered the cemetery to give his deepest honour to the lovers who were true, slipped back into the nightly shroud, blending in with the darkness he was accustomed to.

  The shape had spent two long, cold, isolated years alone in a dark void where no life resided, only himself in a consolidated cell reserved to the empty world of death.

  That was all about to change tonight. He was imprisoned in the dank pits of his own personal hell, forced to live out the same horror time after time, watching those unrestrained beasts have their way with her while he could do nothing, he was brittle and weak at their hands. He hated the thought of giving in to his pain, allowing her to face such an offence. He should have been stronger, should have fought them, stopping them from laying a finger on her or died trying. Perhaps had he done something, things would have been different, and they would have still been alive, relishing the upscale high of their undying love.