The Collection

by West, Sam

  Ripping off a length of tape with her teeth, she proceeded to do so. Her hands shook as she performed the task, and when she was done she held up her hand in front of her face. The sound of harsh breathing reached her ears and she realised that the noise was coming from her.

  She blinked. Her finger was as good as new. There wasn’t even a ‘join’ where the two ends were held together. There was no pain and she could move it as normal.

  In fact, it was like she had imagined the whole sorry thing.

  Oh God, I’m losing my mind.

  A strangled sob escaped her lips and she stared at her hollow-eyed reflection.

  Except it wasn’t her own reflection anymore. It was hers.

  Melina’s face grinned at her from the glass and Charlotte gasped out a scream. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, forcing the horrible aberration from her mind. Sure enough, when she opened them again it was but her own terrified reflection staring back at her.

  What’s happening to me?

  Her street loomed ahead and she lurched to her feet, staggering down the aisle on trembling legs.

  Calm down, she told herself. Everything will be fine when you get home.

  But it wasn’t fine. For a start, Jason was still seriously pissed at her. When she let herself into the tiny, ground-floor flat on the busy main-road, he was standing there in the middle of the living-room with his arms folded defensively over his puny chest.

  She resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she strongly suspected he had been standing there like that since he had got in. Jason was nothing if not predictable.

  “You were totally flirting with that guy,” he huffed.

  Oh, if only you knew…

  “Baby, I wasn’t. As soon as you left I went looking for you but you had gone. You left me there, Jason.”

  “Yes, I did. You made a fool of me, Charlotte.”

  It suddenly occurred to her that her bra and knickers were stuffed in her bag. What if he had noticed that her tits were swinging free? At a casual glance, they were firm enough for their braless state to go undetected, but they wouldn’t hold up to close scrutiny – the fabric of the dress was thin and her nipples were hard with shock. Discretely, she draped her luscious red hair in front of her chest and prayed he wouldn’t notice.

  “I need to go the bathroom,” she said. “I’m in a bit of a state, in case you didn’t notice. In case you actually cared about me.”

  A shadow passed over his face. Regret? Anger? She wasn’t sure. “You’re the one that’s fucked up here, not me.”

  Jason never swore. In fact, she had never seen him so upset before.

  “And you’re the one who abandoned me. Anything could’ve happened to me tonight…”

  Her words trailed off as she remembered the night’s events in all their glory. She’d felt so sure that she’d wanted to fuck that man. At the time, she’d been insanely hot for him, but now, away from the moment? She realised how dangerously close she’d come to being raped.

  As hot as he was, there was no way she’d be so blatantly unfaithful to Jason. Okay, so she may have ‘accidently’ snogged a few guys while out clubbing, and the odd bout of sex chatting on facebook didn’t count, but to actively play around right under her boyfriend’s nose?

  There was just no way.

  That fucker put a spell on me.

  And then that bitch put a curse on me.

  She knew this as surely as she knew her own name.

  And it was her secret, for who would believe her? Not Jason, that was for sure. As academically brilliant as he was, he had the imagination of a dead slug.

  “Earth to Charlotte? Are you reading? Christ, you look awful.”

  His face had softened somewhat and she hoped that he was close to forgiving her.

  “I feel awful, Jason. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry if you thought I was flirting. I’m sorry I didn’t call you but I had no battery on my phone. I’m sorry for bloody everything.”

  Genuine tears slipped down her cheeks and hastily she wiped them away. She really was exhausted and desperate to lock herself in the bathroom.

  “You were flirting with another guy.”

  “I wasn’t! And I came running after you but you had gone. I would never hurt you, baby. I’m sorry, but I’m dying for a wee, and I’m freezing cold. I’m going to run myself a bath, we’ll talk when I get out.”

  She walked round him, mindful to keep her curtain of hair over her breasts and with a huge sigh of relief, she locked herself in the bathroom.

  Ten minutes later, Charlotte was immersed up to her neck in glorious, fragrant bubbles. Over her ‘bad’ finger with the tape wrapped around it she wore a disposable plastic glove, borrowed from one of her ‘brilliant red’ hair-dye packets. She also took extra care not to get it wet and let her hand dangle over the edge of the bath.

  What a fucking night, she thought miserably. I can’t believe this has happened to me, it’s like something out of a movie.

  She placed the wet flannel over her face, trying to organise her muddled thoughts. What the hell was she supposed to do?

  I have to go back. I have to beg that bitch to remove the curse...

  The more she thought about it, the more she realised that she had been tricked and manipulated right from the start. She had followed that bastard like he was the Pied Piper of fucking Hamlin, because he had worked his voodoo fucking magic on her. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have been attracted to such a brute, anyway. To a man that was all brawn and no brain. She was an utter fool to have her head turned like that by some sleazy nobody.

  No, I’m not a fool. I was tricked. I’ll just explain everything to that Gypsy bitch, she‘ll understand that this wasn’t my fault, she’ll have to…

  So what the hell am I doing still sitting in the bath?

  She hauled herself up, her mind racing with what she had to do. Fleetingly, she thought of Jason. Maybe he could come with her? Hell, he would have to believe her if she showed him her damn finger…

  But by showing him her finger, she would have to tell him everything. And would he believe her that she was put under a spell, that it wasn’t her fault she’d got naked with – and almost fucked – another man?

  Maybe she could just omit that part? Yes, that was a distinct possibility.

  Sighing heavily, she wiped her good hand across the heavily steamed mirror over the sink. Her glum face with her acres of red hair piled up on top of her head stared back.

  At least the panda-eyes are gone, she thought, reaching out for the towel on the hook. Rigorously, she began to dry herself.

  She stopped.

  What the…

  Almost her entire left breast was hanging off. Just like with her finger, it was attached only by a small piece of skin on the underside of the breast. And as with her finger, the surfaces of her revealed insides were perfectly glass-smooth.

  “Oh, no, no, no…”

  Before she had dumped her bag on the bed in the bedroom, she had remembered to remove her underwear, but she had left the sticky-tape where it was. Tentatively, she touched the dangling breast. No pain. It felt completely normal, and when her palm cupped her nipple, that felt completely normal too, it was just in a different place. She couldn’t bring herself to touch her glistening innards – that would be sure way to make herself freak out. Because if she gave in to the terror now, she didn’t think it would ever stop. Her mind would simply detach, and she would scream until she passed out.

  Sobbing, she gripped the rim of the sink, the bathroom spinning around her.

  Don’t pass out, she told herself sternly. You need to get that sticky-tape and then get your sorry arse back to that funfair. Which is what I should’ve fucking well done in the first place if I had been thinking straight…

  With a newfound resolve, she briskly dried herself. Stepping forward to retrieve the fresh underwear that was draped over the edge of the laundry basket, she somehow missed her footing and collapsed onto her side in an ungain
ly heap.

  “Fuck!” she yelled, the side of her thigh throbbing where it had smacked against the lino floor.

  “Are you alright?” came Jason’s voice from the other side of the door.

  The door handle turned but thankfully she had locked it.

  “I’m fine,” she called out. “I slipped, that’s all.”

  “Is anything bleeding?”

  Her vision swam in and out of focus when she saw the reason why she had tripped. A short distance away lay her foot, severed in a neat line above the ankle.

  “Oh, dear God,” she said, not believing her eyes.

  Again, there was no pain.

  “Charlotte? Sweetie? What’s happening? I asked if you were bleeding.”

  She almost smiled at that. “No. No blood.” She cleared her throat, forcing her voice to come out as normal. “I’m fine, I’ll be out in a second. Why don’t you go and pour us a glass of wine? I’ll be right there.”

  Then she noticed her left tit, lying a few inches away from her severed foot. It looked like an oversized fucking cupcake with a cherry on top.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you like that, and I apologise. I do trust you, and I’m sorry I doubted you.” He sighed heavily when she didn’t answer. “We’ll talk when you come out, okay? I love you.”

  His little apology speech barely registered. Shuffling over on her backside to her lost body parts, she picked up her foot, and promptly dropped it again in shock.

  She had felt the pressure in her foot when she had picked it up, actually felt it like the fucking thing was still attached to her. She pressed her good hand to her mouth to smother the half-cry, half-laugh that bubbled up from her stomach like gas.

  Oh, dear Lord, this can’t be happening…

  She leaned against the door, listening to Jason’s retreating footsteps.

  Come on, Charlotte, keep it together. Due to the small size of the flat, she could hear him clattering the wineglasses in the kitchen. I’ve got time to slip into the bedroom without him noticing and tape myself back together.

  The idea was so outrageous, so fucking preposterous, she had to stifle another round of giggles. Scooping up her foot and her breast, she got to her feet. Or foot. To her disgust and horror, she could feel the pressure of her touch on her severed body parts. Her mind swam with the insanity of it and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing out the thoughts of pure madness. Because if she stopped to dwell, she knew she would start screaming and never stop.

  Experimentally, she placed her stump on the ground. It didn’t hurt in the slightest and in this ungainly manner she hobbled the short distance to the bedroom. She chucked her body parts and wet towel onto the bed and rummaged frantically in her bag for the tape. As she did so, she could feel the softness of the duvet brushing against her detached foot and breast.

  For God’s sake, don’t think about that.

  “Gotcha,” she said with a manic grin as she sat on the edge of the bed and unravelled the tape.

  First of all, she grabbed her foot and held it in place at the ankle. She proceeded to tape it back on, winding the tape round and round until the foot was secured back in place.

  The line of the join disappeared as if it had never been.

  She twisted round on the bed just in time to see the bedroom door push inwards.

  “Shit,” she said under her breath, grabbing the towel and holding it against her body.

  As Jason stepped into the room, she swept her breast behind her back before he had a chance to notice it.

  “I said I’d be there in a minute.”

  “I just came in to see of you were okay. Is that Sellotape round your foot?”

  “Yes, it is, as it happens.”

  “Why?”

  Yes. Why, indeed? “I cut my ankle.”

  “So you wrapped tape round your entire ankle? There are plasters in the kitchen cupboard.”

  “Did you come in here to talk about the tape round my foot?”

  “No.” He sat on the edge of the bed and it creaked under his weight. For a frightful moment, she thought her breast was going to roll into his lap. “I love you so much, Charlotte, I know I’m punching above my weight with you, and I’m scared of losing you. If you were ever unfaithful to me, I swear I’d lose my mind. God, I’m just so scared of us falling apart.”

  Falling apart? Baby, you don’t know the half of it…

  “Just let me get dressed, okay? I don’t want to do this with no clothes on.”

  Jason got to his feet, frowning slightly. “It’s never bothered you before. But if you’re uncomfortable, I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.”

  “Thanks, sweetie.”

  She reached up to let down her hair which was still pinned to the top of her head with one big clip. As she did so, her head tilted to the left.

  Oh no…

  Her worst suspicions were confirmed when she touched the side of her neck; sure enough, her fingers disappeared inside her neck. Snatching her fingers out of the yawning gap, she grabbed both sides of her face, cupping her palms under her jaw.

  “Are you okay?”

  Yeah, I’m fucking marvellous, just trying not to LOSE MY FUCKING HEAD.

  “Can I have a moment? I’ll join you in a minute,” she said in a high-pitched squeak.

  In her haste to keep her head attached to her neck, she realised too late that her towel had dropped.

  Jason’s face was a picture. He lurched to his feet, staggering away from her.

  “Charlotte? What the fuck?”

  Aw, fuck. Now the cat’s out the bag… Or the tit’s out the towel….

  She threw back her head and laughed – not because she found any of this funny, just that she was, well, you know, feeling a little crazy right now – and as she did so her gaze was suddenly on the ceiling.

  “Oopsie.”

  Only just did she manage to grip her earlobes in time to prevent her head from toppling clean off her neck.

  Then there was a big thump, and Jason was on the floor. She peered down at him, holding her head in place.

  “Yeah, I don’t blame you,” she said. “This shit is nasty.”

  V

  Holding her head on her neck with one hand, she reached for the tape.

  Gonna need a mirror for this one, she thought, getting to her feet. The tape really had worked a miracle on her foot, for she was able to walk over to the floor-length mirror on the wardrobe door like nothing was wrong.

  Taking great pains to keep the tape neat, she proceeded to wind it round her neck. Like with her foot, the join completely disappeared and she was as good as new.

  She scooped up her breast and held it back in place against her chest wall. Despite having super-firm breasts, she still had a slight under-fold where breast met chest wall – the type of curve that every woman with larger, natural breasts over the age of seventeen possessed. As minimal as this crease was, it was proving nigh-on impossible to tape her breast back to her body because of it. The underside of her breast scrunched up the tape and as a result made the rest of the tape a little wonky so in places the thin red line of the join was visible.

  Also, she hadn’t put it on quite straight so her nipples looked cross-eyed.

  Still, at least it’s attached. It’ll do until I get back to the funfair.

  From the ground, Jason groaned.

  “Charlotte? What the fuck’s happened to you?”

  “The gypsies put a curse on me.”

  He sat up, visibly wincing with the effort and rubbing his shoulder; the man had gone down hard and heavy.

  “Gypsies? You mean that guy?”

  “Yeah, him and his girlfriend,” she said, staring at her wonky breast in the mirror. “But it wasn’t my bloody fault. The bastard put a spell on me, he made me follow him back to his caravan, but his stupid cow of a girlfriend blamed me.”

  The words were out of her mouth before she could censor them, and when she turned to look at Jason he was stari
ng at her, a funny expression on his face. Slowly, he got to his feet.

  “He made you? What did he do, put a gun to your head? And what, exactly, happened in his caravan?”

  She looked at him blankly. “There are bits falling off me, and you’re asking me what I did in his caravan?”

  “What the fuck happened in his caravan? Did you fuck him?”

  “What? No! Of course not… Hey! What are you doing?”

  Jason had grabbed her by the shoulders and was forcefully shaking her.

  Jeta’s words rang in her ears, I sense a darkness within you, my friend, an ugliness…

  No! Jason’s not like that! I’m sure he’s not.

  He shook, and he shook, and then suddenly her entire right arm came away in his hand. He staggered backwards, hanging on to her arm.

  “You fucking freak! What the fuck is this? Jesus fucking Christ!”

  He stared down at her arm, his eyes so wide behind his glasses, she could see the slightly bloodshot whites of his eyeballs all the way around his non-descript brown irises.

  If you don’t understand something, you will destroy it...

  And then she perfectly understood Jeta’s meaning. In a flash of understanding, she got it. She never really knew Jason. Not really. She only saw what she wanted to see. He wasn’t just a dry academic, he was a cold bastard.

  The realisation was almost as shocking as the fact he was holding her arm.

  “Give me that back,” she said in a steady voice.

  “Fucking freak!” he spat. There was spittle on his lips and his complexion was high. “What in the fuck is wrong with you? You fucked him, didn’t you?”

  “No! Jason please, give me back my arm, I need to go back to the funfair and get this fucking curse lifted.”

  “Fuck you.”

  He threw her arm across the room and she felt the cool rush of the air against the skin of her severed arm. When it landed she cried out in pain as it smacked against the carpet. Apparently, it didn’t hurt when bits dropped off her, but it hurt when the severed body part was abused.

  What a total, fucking mind-fuck.