by R. K. Star
I didn’t want anyone at work to know what happened so I did a good job covering up any visible bruises. I did my best to walk properly so I didn’t seem any different than before. My coworkers did comment on my makeup as I never applied any makeup before. I gave them a lame excuse and it sate their curiosity. Whenever it quiet down and the cafe had no customers. I would sense the area to see if I could find who I was looking for. During my break I felt him, he was limping and his thought was quite provocative.
‘If I see that bitch again I’m going to kill her then fuck her. She broke my fucken leg, fucking bitch.’
He wasn’t too fond of me; the feeling was mutual. Looks like he wanted to do to me what I wanted to do to him without the fucking part. I wrote down the images his eyes were relaying to his brain. This way I could find where he went, eventually he got out the radius where I could sense him.
I anxiously wait for my shift to be over and then set off immediately. I knew which direction he went and the last area he was before I couldn’t sense him anymore. The area I was going to, were where people of low income lived. People on welfare and social assistance resided here. I eventually could sense him again, he was in a building that was breaking down on the outside due to its age. The building had ten floors and was built with bricks. I went to the front door and unlocked it by feeling the locking mechanism. Inside the building you could see the obvious wear and tear with long outstanding repairs due. Some of the people in there appeared high as if they were taking drugs. Some tenants appeared intoxicated, hardly able to maintain their balance and their gaze staring off into the abyss. I didn’t want to stay in this place too long. There was a stench that was deep into the carpets and into the building and slowly the scent emanated out. It was very musky and the fetid smell squeezed the air out of your lungs. I suspect people pissed, defecated, masturbated, vomited, and any other possible revolting bodily fluids was splatter on the floor and walls. You could see the stains everywhere.
I got into the elevator and pressed the sixth floor. It was at that level where I felt his presence. There was another man in the elevator that looked like a hobo and was obviously inebriated.
“Heeeey, purty little thing, wanna have a good time?” He was staggering a little bit.
“No! Leave me alone.” I glared at him, angrily.
He reached out and grab my shoulder. Almost as if it was a reflexive motion my arm swung and slapped him across the face as hard as I could. I wasn’t in the best of moods and I my temper was worn thin.
“Don’t touch me! I’m warning you.” I said with a distinct tone that was full of conviction. For some reason I wasn’t scare at all. I wasn’t afraid anymore, perhaps it was because I knew I could protect myself.
“This bitch got attitude. I like it rough when I’m fucking, we’re are going to have a good time.” He advanced towards me, grabbing my breast and trying to kiss me.
I grabbed his arm and tried to twist and pull it off me but I wasn’t as strong as I imagined. I could feel his tongue on my cheeks and the odour created an image in my head I never wish to see again. I felt his joint next to his shoulder, then I forced the humerus out of the glenoid cavity.
“Ahhh,” he screamed in pain.
I felt his grip weaken. I clenched my fist together and punched him on his nose. He staggered backwards. I wasn’t strong enough to knock him out. I came at him again and pop another one on his nose and another one until he fell to the ground.
“Ahhhh you fucking bitch, I’m bleeding.”
I knelt down and grabbed his hippy hair and pulled it backwards forcing his chin up. “I told you not to touch me you asshole, did you enjoy touching my breast?” I whispered in his ear.
“Go, go, get away from me, I don’t want to touch you anymore bitch!”
“I don’t want to go now, I want to touch you.” A reflexive smile stretched across my face.
He looked shocked as if I was going to have rough sexual intercourse with him. I gave him another smile. “I’m going to show you a good time.” I clenched my fist and pounded his face again and again. I noticed a sting around my knuckles and it was aching, there was blood on my hand. I wipe the blood off on his shirt, my knuckles where bruises but I wasn’t bleeding, the blood was from him.
“Oops, I meant I was going to show me a good time,” I snickered even though he probably couldn’t hear me.
The elevator door open and a man came in. I did a quick peek inside his mind. He didn’t appear as a bad person but just a person having trouble making ends meet. I read his thoughts. ‘Great, another drunk passed out in the elevator and he has been beat up. Is this lady checking if he has any money on him?’
“I saw him here when I got on the elevator and was checking to see if he’s breathing.” I hid my hand away from his eyes so he wouldn’t suspect a frail girl like me to have assaulted him.
“Is he?” He responded.
“Yes.”
“There’s so many of these drunks here. They are always fighting and causing trouble. If I could afford a better place I would move elsewhere. I hate having my wife and son living here. Can you imagine raising a child in this neighbourhood?”
“Yeah, it’s horrible.”
“I have to work two jobs just to pay the bills. Every month I barely have anything left from my pay cheques to put into a savings account.”
“It’s getting harder and harder these days. I’ll call the apartment caretaker and let him know there’s someone passed out in the elevator.”
“That caretaker doesn’t do anything, there’s so many repairs past due it’s soon going to be…, I don’t even know how to describe it. Saying it’s a hazard to live here now is an understatement. It’s not even just the outstanding repairs but all the criminals and addicts residing here, it’s like a temporary house for those soon to make the transit into prison. But then I can’t fully blame the caretaker either. When you are paid minimum and given a workload equivalent to three full time employees it’s hard to complete work in a timely fashion.”
The elevator door was about to close again. “Yeah, I have to get going, best of luck to you.” It was an awkward conversation and abrupt ending. I felt he needed to vent his frustration.
“Thanks, you as well,” he mumbled as the elevator closed.
I felt bad for him, he was a good man trying to survive in a difficult environment. The rich always got richer and the poor, well they just keep clenching on for survival.
I made my way towards the rapist apartment room. His mind was faint, he must be sleeping. I doubled check the hallway to make sure no one was around as I unlocked his door and slowly pushed it open. It made a squeaking sound and I stopped stiff in my track. The scent from the room was musky and nauseating, I held my breath. I waited to see if the noise woke him but I heard him softly snoring. I continued to enter delicately and slowly, closing the door behind me, it made a squeaking noise again. I paused again to see if it roused him but it didn’t wake him. I turned the knob to lock the door. I found him naked on the couch and it looked as if he just finished masturbating on himself. I suspect in was intoxicated. I saw flyers and other papers around him, the apartment was a mess. There were empty beer cans all around, pizza take-out boxes and empty take-out containers. I understood where the stench was emanating from now. It was quite dark inside, there was one dimly lit up light bulb in the corner providing some illumination.
I found some string in his apartment. I moved a chair closer to him and got him up, sitting him on the chair then I used the string to tie him up. I knew this was arousing him and he was waking up from it. Midway from tying him, he woke up.
“What the fuck is going on,” he cried.
His arms were tied behind the chair and he couldn’t move them then he started to kick his legs trying to break free.
“It’s hopeless.” I prevent him from moving his legs and wrapped the string around his legs and tied them to the chair legs.
“How the fuck can you move the string wi
thout touching it bitch? What the fuck are you? Is this some joke!”
“No joke, we’re just going to have a good time.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? Do you want to fuck? If you want to fuck untie me and I’ll fuck you hard.”
“Unfortunately, there will be no fucking today,” I smiled. “Do you remember how many times you slapped me a couple of days ago?”
“No, I don’t recognize bitches like you.”
“Really?” I took a couple steps closer to him so he could see my face clearly. His eyes widen and I knew he recognized me then.
“That was all a joke, we were kidding around. We were just having a little fun, we weren’t going to hurt you.”
“Is that right?”
“I swear that’s the fucking truth.”
I read his thoughts. ‘If I get free I’m going to stab this bitch from behind and feed her to the fucking rats. After she lets me go she’ll regret it, this fucking piece of shit.’
“But I’m afraid if I let you go I’ll regret it.”
His eyes twitched for a quick second as if a cold breeze kissed his cheek.
“Trust me you won’t regret it. I’ll never do another bad thing again. I will only do good things and help people out. I swear to you I’ll never touch another bitch again.”
“If I let you go you’re not going to stab me from behind and feed me to the rats?”
He looked shocked with what I just said and didn’t know how to respond.
“Let’s be honest here asshole, you’re a fucking loser and better off dead.”
“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, you fucking bitch. Go fuck yourself,” he was screaming at the top of his lungs.
I didn’t want anyone to hear us so I grabbed a sock off the floor which smelled like shit and shove it in his mouth.
“How do you like the taste of that? Remember when you kissed me and made me vomit, now I’m returning the favour to you.”
I saw he was gagging from the sock and was afraid he would choke on his own vomit so I pulled the sock out. I stepped out of the way to the side as he puked, the projectile fluid travelled over a metre. Good thing I got out of the way in time.
“That almost hit me, here have your sock back,” I shoved it back in his mouth.
I gave him two quick slaps across the face while chanting “bitch, bitch,” as my palm struck against his cheek. Being vulgar was so much fun, I was really enjoying myself.
I rolled up one of his magazines as my hand hurt after slapping him. My hand was sore from the punching I did earlier. With the rolled magazine I swung it against his right cheek with all my might then the left and I repeated it again while saying, “bitches should be slapped, you’re a fucking bitch.” It felt great.
“This feels so good, are we having fun yet because I’m having so much fun.” I laughed out loud in exhilaration. I don’t even remember having this much fun as a kid.
For the next few minutes I kept slapping him with the magazine and laughing hysterically. I looked at the magazine and it was tearing. He wasn’t doing well; his cheek was severely bruised and bleeding.
“I’m having the most fun in my life right now,” I took the sock out of his mouth.
“You’re fucking sick, bitch! Let me go please! I’m sorry about before.”
“If you do everything I say and be a good boy, when I’m done having my fun with you maybe I’ll let you go.”
“Fuck you bitch, let me go you fucker!”
I shove the sock back into his mouth. “Fuck you asshole.”
I grabbed another of his pornographic magazines. I admired the lady on the front cover for a moment before rolling it up. She had a nice pair of huge breasts and was in a very suggestive position with her legs spread apart. I looked at his body making ‘tsk-tsk’ sounds as if there were flies on his body and whacked him as hard as I could.
A moment passed, actually I don’t even know how much time passed I was so focused on what I was doing I didn’t even realized he had passed out. I grabbed the sock out of his mouth and move his head side to side, he was unconscious. I check his airway and pulse, he was breathing and had a gentle pulse.
“What should I do now,” I paced around a bit. I wasn’t done with him yet I had to think of something.
I removed the strings that was restraining him and dragged him to the floor. There I tied his hands to the legs of the table and his legs to the futon. I got a cup of cold water and splashed it on his face. His head jerked to the side and his eyes opened in displeasure. With my mind, I restrained his legs.
I showed him the broom stick I found in the corner. “Guess what I’m going to do with this?” I teased.
He had a look of panic as if he already knew what I was thinking.
“I lied earlier, someone is getting fucked.” I looked into his eyes to relish in the moment. “It’s you!” I clasped my hands together in joy then I shoved the end of the broom handle up his anus. A muffled scream came from his mouth.
“What’s that? You want more?” I asked rhetorically.
He was shaking his head side to side frantically.
“You got it.” I answered him with glee as I pumped the broom stick in and out faster and faster.
His facial muscles tensed up and his muffled screams escaped with pain. It gave me great pleasure to see blood on the broom handle. His tissue was ruptured and it was physical evidence he was suffering the same pain he caused me.
He was squirming and tried to break free again. I didn’t like that so I got one of his belts and lashed him. The sound of leather snapping against his skin was music to my ears.
The tortured continued for a couple of hours of me plunging the broom handle in and out of his anus and whipping him with random objects I found in apartment. At some point I realized he was motionless. I tapped on him and kicked him but he wouldn’t move. He had no pulse and wasn’t breathing. I removed the sock to find he had choked on his own vomit. I was tired of torturing him so was quite happy he was dead. I imagine his squirm was him trying to let me know he was suffocating and having trouble breathing. He probably was having trouble breathing long ago. It definitely delighted me to know he suffered as much as he could before he died.
I could leave him here to rot but it will be a while before the corpse stench overpowers the natural odour of the apartment and even longer before someone can’t stand the stench and actually does something about it. Also, that man I met at the elevator lived on this floor. I don’t want his wife and son to have to deal with this. What am I going to do? What could I do?
I open his window that looked out onto a dirty street. There wasn’t anyone walking below, I could just throw him out and people may think it’s a suicide. There were bruises all over his body and it was obviously he was beaten up though. You could even see the string markings on his arms and legs. He was trying to break free but couldn’t and self-inflicted lacerations on himself in the process. Thinking about how he hurt himself while trying to break free gave me some amusement, I giggled for a moment.
I decided to throw him off the building. Even if the police suspect someone murdered him they wouldn’t suspect me. I’m just a girl and my appearance looks frailer and innocent. How could a girl like me be capable of such a horrific act? No, it wasn’t possible for me.
I didn’t want to touch him as he was sticky and filthy all over. I cut the strings in small pieces and flushed it down the toilet and moved the chair back to the original position. I took some paper towel and scrubbed any surface I touched in case the police searched for fingerprints. I took the two pornographic magazines I used as a weapon and tore it into tiny shreds so it wouldn’t clog the toilet and then flushed it down as well. I forced water down his esophagus to clean some of the vomit, then levitated him and put him on a sitting position on the window, holding him there. I opened the apartment door and checked if anyone was there who would see me leave, there was no one. I pushed him off with my mind, letting him fall off the window and calmly a
nd in a normal fashion proceeded to leave the premise.
9
Third Partition
Feeling quite satisfied with myself and delighted with the justice I’ve carried out. I turned on the television to see if the news had caught on to the new murder.
The news anchor was reporting: “Today two deaths have been discovered. One man died horrifically, his face was badly crushed beyond recognition. Police are saying someone took his head and repeatedly smashed it against the wall then drag his body into a dumpster and tried to cover it up with garbage. Another death was found on the street, the deceased man was found naked and with bruises all over his body. Police are uncertain if he jumped off the window of the building himself or it was a planned murder case. An autopsy will be performed on both bodies to get more information. Police have asked anyone with information regarding these two cases to come forward. We will keep you post on any new developments.”
I was glad they didn’t find any evidence that pointed to me. Now there was only one of them left. I looked at the map to find the closest hospital from the location I had left him. It was obvious which emergency room they brought him to.
When I got outside my apartment I went to a nearby tree and broke off a branch about the thickness of a broom stick. I put the branch in my bag and waited for the bus that would take me to the hospital. As the bus approach the hospital I focus in on John’s thoughts, it wasn’t long before I could pick them up. I stealthily made my way around the hospital, I didn’t want anyone to notice that I went into John’s room. I took the stairs up to the third floor. I sensed to see if any nurse or nurse aid was around the area. When the hallway was clear I quickly snuck into John’s room, it was quiet.
I brought my palm close to feel his cheek and then brought it backwards and slapped him hard across the face. His body made a couple of quick jerks and his mental faculties became alert.