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by John Putignano


  “Oh, this is understandable. Nobody wants to be known as a monster.” I searched for what this man intended to do. He was up to something, but what? I watched as he seemed deeply devoted to my story; his glassy stare as he envisions it all. “And did she cheat on you?”

  “She did.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “She had a video she recorded with the man. She had it on her laptop. She didn’t think I would see it. Her computer had been running slow due to spyware. I was trying to help it run faster by cleaning it out.”

  `“Was it a sex video?”

  `“Yes it was. It was-”

  `“Exciting wasn’t it?”

  `“What the fuck is wrong with you? It was devastating.” He was trying to break me down, but why?

  “Did she cum?”

  “Do you want to keep your teeth?” It was working.

  “What did we agree on detective? You tell me your story and I will tell you mine.” My eyes began burning with the fires of hell, my nostrils flared and at this moment I want nothing more than to pull my service weapon out and unload into his forehead. This is what he wants. I can’t let him win.

  “Yeah she came like a goddamn banshee.”

  “Did he cum?”

  “Yes, all over her face. Is that what you want to hear? I didn’t realize what a whore I married.”

  “She doesn’t sound like a whore to me, just adventurous. If you tried some of those things…do you think it would be different?”

  “I don’t know, maybe. She’s my wife…you know how hard it is to…”

  “Blow a load in her face?”

  “It’s different.” It was true. The mother of your children, the woman you stood before the altar and vowed to always protect; it seems wrong treat her like a porn star.

  “But she married a man who did these things didn’t she? She married a man who treated her like a woman in public, but a whore in the bedroom. She married a young, hard bodied, strong, sexually driven man. Now she’s left with this pathetic limp dick prude who will occasionally slam her from behind if she begs enough times. The passion is gone, and now so is she.”

  “I guess.” Why did he want to know this? Keep your head together because he is up to something. He’s trying to confuse me…but what if it’s true? What if I were to leave here and march back over to the house they shared in Stoughton? What if I kick open the door and throw that snotty nosed brat onto the front grass? What if I were to take my wife and show her what kind of fuck machine I really am? I could treat her like the little slut she wants to be. Maybe then all would return to normal. “I told you so let me hear your story.”

  “I still haven’t seen your ID detective…”

  “I’m going to bash your head in if you don’t start cooperating.”

  “I want a name at the very least detective.”

  “Detective Bradshaw.”

  “Danny?”

  “Tanner.” At this he looked a little confused. I smile. “Oh, did I just shit in your cereal?”

  “No, but I think you don’t know your own name.”

  “Just tell me about the woman.”

  “She was beautiful; a woman of loyalty. She worshipped the ground I walked on. She made me feel like a man. She was gorgeous and everything was perfect.”

  “So you killed her?”

  “Oh, we’ll get to that. Now first let me tell you what I did. I decided I needed to get her to come to this abandoned warehouse. It’s right off of Chandler Street in Worcester. I told her there would be a party there, a rave. Well we drove down and she sucked down some Mr. Boston Vodka. She had no idea that I drugged it. When we arrived she was passed out. I dragged her inside, stripped her nude and tied her to an old table. When she had woken she thought we would make love. Do you know why?”

  “She trusted you. She could not imagine what you intended to do to her.”

  “Yeah, that adventurous sex life your wife left you for was common for us. This woman was a real kinky bitch and it turned her on to think that this was a new game. I reached down with my fingers and felt her pussy. It was soaked.”

  My head began to hurt. I raised my chubby index finger to my temple and squeezed my eyes shut. It felt like someone was ripping at my brain.

  “Pay attention, I don’t want you to miss the good parts Danny.”

  “The name’s Tanner. I’m listening. Go on.” I yell as I struggle to get through the pain.

  “Well first I decided to change her face around. I pulled out a pair of needle-nose pliers. She made a joking comment about how hard her nipples were, and begged me not to use it on them. She was shocked when I jammed it into her mouth and wrapped the steel around her front tooth. I squeezed until I felt it crack and then yanked with all my might.

  “Next I decided to remove an eye. I used an old spoon and scooped it out. Do you know how funny a bitch looks with one eye, it’s hilarious. Well after this I used a knife…”

  My head was throbbing, and my vision began to shift. I felt feverish and started to see doubles. My heart slammed against my chest. The little prick handcuffed to the chair looked at me laughing.

  “My god, don’t freak out now Danny, there is so much more. I took a hammer to her chin and sliced off her clitoris with a fillet knife. I used old fish hooks to peel back her pussy lips and tried to see how many dead rats I could stuff in her cunt. Do you know how many I could fit?”

  My arms were going numb. There’s a heavy weight on my chest as my mind turns into chaos; aflood of random thoughts and images. I see the rats laughing from inside that woman’s vagina. They laugh at me for being such a stupid fucking old man. I see my wife. She’s young, no older than eighteen. She keeps telling me that I should have never gotten old. She tells me I should have burned out long ago. She tells me that I’m a pathetic old bastard who didn’t know how to fuck her. I feel like I’m having a heart attack.

  “I got four in there. I’m sure I could get more but I ran out of rats. God, you should have seen what I did with her tits. I took this fork and knife…” His words were turning into gibberish. He continues on but I only hear every other word. “Fucking…torn…tit sack, whatever it’s called…anal…intestines hanging out…wife.”

  And then I suddenly feel normal. The images, the numbness, the pain, the panic; it’s all gone. Sweating I look up at him and asked “What did you say? She was your wife?”

  “No…she was your wife Danny.”

  “My name is Tanner.”

  “Let me see some ID” Sick of his games I reach into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet. I opened the front where the ID was kept next to my badge and froze. There it was, but not the name I expect. It said Detective Danny Bradshaw.

  “What the fuck is going on.”

  “You just don’t get it do you?” And then for the first time in my drunken life I felt clear. I began to remember. The hammer smashing in her face, the gasoline all over her body, the match lit, the flames as she burned and it’s me standing in the light, the light her burning body gave off. All this time and it was me. The burned woman was my wife and I killed her.

  Clarity washes over me, and the feeling is awesome. I shake my head as I began to laugh. He follows my lead and begins to laugh too and this made me laugh even harder.

  “You are truly fucked you know that?”

  “I know. Wow, I really killed her.” I look up at the young man confused but amused at the same time. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “I’m in your mind; you made me up. You’re not a detective, you’re an inmate. You killed your loving, devoted wife one night and turned yourself in. Don’t you remember?”

  “Not really, kind of I guess.” I look around the room and nothing changed. Everything remained except the man in front of me was no longer handcuffed. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a deck of playing cards. As he cuts the deck he laughs.

  “Sorry but you are truly fucked in the head man.” He places the cards down and reaches under the tab
le. He pulls up two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey. I nod in approval.

  “Just shut the hell up and deal the cards.” And the two of us smoked cigars, drank whiskey and played poker into the late night hours. I knew none of this was real, I knew what really happened. I don’t remember things as they happened, but rather as I want to remember them. This is the only way I have complete control of my life. I know it’s a lie, but I would rather live a happy lie than a miserable truth.

  The Incident at Bleak Ridge Lake

  I remember the tales from when I was a child, and now I believe that behind every tale there’s truth. You must understand that the town of Eutaw has always had its legends; we even had our own quasi-religion. We called them the Alabama Gods. The residents really ate this shit up. It was kind of Christian, kind of Voodoo mixed with Paganism I guess. There was talking in tongues and even snake rituals. When I was young it was normal but must admit now that it was pretty weird.

  The legends were strange. I remember what happened to Bill Stokley down by Bashful Swamp. He was as white as a ghost when they pulled him from the muck. He spent the entire night submerged up to his neck in a state of catatonia while the leeches sucked his blood. The Sheriff said that there were four alligators nearby. It was a goddamn miracle that they hadn’t eaten him. It took weeks for him to die from infection, and before he passed away he babbled a mad tale to the Sheriff that a lizard humanoid and his lair.

  The town got wind of this and people talked.

  “I always knew that boy had a screw loose in that noggin. He got real weird after Vietnam.” Margery Tierny said one Sunday afternoon after church. But despite this, many thought there was truth in what he said. Even the local newspaper The Eutaw Tribune wrote an article on the subject. It told a tale of a mud hut filled with alligator corpses and dog cadavers. The Sheriff was curious if there was some validity to this tale and asked if he saw any human remains, especially of any children. You see, in Eutaw we have always had a missing children problem. It seems children just up and disappear around here, never to be seen again. People blamed witches, serial killers, and now they could blame the lizard man. Bill shook his head however and later that night died.

  I always believed in the tale. I was no older than eight at the time and remember when they discovered old Dorothy Bane butchered in her house. She also was a firm believer in the Alabama Gods, and we all thought her to be a witch. We figured she was killed by her coven during an argument. I thought at one time she was taking the local kids, but when she died they just continued.

  Now I am sixty three and have spent the last thirty eight years trying to make sense of what I saw that night when I was only twenty five. I had spent the night fucking a passed out Gretchen Ball. I know by today’s standard that is considered rape, but back in 1975 is was just something we did. Hell, Terry Wilson was fucking his sister Rachel every night, and no one batted an eye at that even though he was twenty and she was fifteen. It was a different time.

  Anyway, I was sniffing my fingers and tossing back beers as I walked down the path to Bleak Ridge Lake. Today you all know it as Tanner’s Lake. I was lost in my head, reliving the events of the night when I heard a faint song. I couldn’t understand the words but I could hear that it was a woman, and by the sound she was beautiful. What kind of woman would be out here this time of the night?

  I, in my drunken and horny state of mind, made my way deep into the woods and toward the lake. I tried to picture the face of this woman. I imagined her with brown hair at first, than blond. I soon realized that I imagined her to be a white woman because that’s all that lived in Eutaw. She’s speaking another language, so surely she must be foreign. She could be Asian or Indian; Brazilian maybe. I wasn’t too educated then, nor am I now by any means, but I didn’t know what any of these kinds of women looked like so I just pictured white women with brown skin. The song, although I didn’t understand it, seemed full of sadness and loneliness. Was she depressed, did her boyfriend leave her by the lake during an argument? Had the Alabama Gods blessed me to become her knight in shining armor?

  As I closed ground on the voice I saw a dark silhouette in the distance. It was indeed a woman. I couldn’t see any features, just the dark outline. She seemed to be sitting on a small island of earth in the center of the lake. How did she get there? She had to swim, and if she swam there she had wet clothes on. Maybe she had no clothes at all.

  When I got close enough I started to walk to my right so I could see her in the moonlight. My jaw hit the floor. She was stunning. Her skin was brown. It wasn’t the normal brown color of human skin but more of an earth tone. It was full with hints of red. Her hair was long and flowing. Its color was a bright mossy green.

  She was naked. Her breasts were big and perky. Lost in her cleavage she wore some sort of necklace which I couldn’t make out from where I stood. I got closer, so close that I came to the water’s edge but still had trouble seeing her. She stopped singing and turned in my direction and I froze.

  Her eyes were blue, but not the blue of any girl I had ever seen. They were icy, frozen as she stared at me. They seemed to glow in the night and even give off a light mist. Her lower body was lost in the shadows and I wanted to see more of this exotic beauty. For some reason I kept thinking she must be from Iran or something. I never seen an Iranian at that time but I thought they might look like this. Then she spoke clear English.

  “Come closer handsome.” Her voice was beautiful but sounded dreamlike. Did her lips even move? I could’ve sworn they didn’t. It didn’t matter, I wanted her. I tore my shirt and pants off. I stripped down to my underwear. She motioned with her finger for me to remove them. I did. I now stood there, completely naked and then she motioned for me to come to her. I ran into the lake and swam toward the little island.

  Once I reached land I quickly pulled myself up. I was an attractive man in those days and my hair was a little long. I pushed the brown strands from my eyes to behind my ear. As I allowed my eyes to adjust to the night I gasped as I saw the woman up close and almost fell back into the lake. You see, from the waist up she was human. Sure she had unusual skin and hair color, but this was nothing compared to the waist down. She looked like a lake trout. She had no legs, but a massive greenish colored fin. It was coiled beneath her as she sat on the little bit of land.

  “By the Alabama Gods, are you a mermaid?” I asked stupidly. She didn’t answer, just giggled. This had sobered me up. I felt something in her presence. I felt comfort, I felt safe, and I felt as if everything in my life would be just fine from this point forward. She brought a beautiful feeling I had been searching for my entire life…inner peace.

  Her ice cold hand gripped my naked arm and before I could realize what had happened I was being pulled through the lake. I descended and as I looked around I saw hundreds of fish swimming past me. Who would have known so much life existed in this tired old lake. Then it struck me. How was I seeing this? It was night, but somehow my vision was able to see everything. I could even see the bottom of the lake, something I couldn’t see even during the day from the surface. Then I realized another oddity, I could breathe. I was underwater and could breathe!

  The mermaid continued to pull me toward the bottom of the lake where we approached a cave. She pulled me inside and we barreled through a long tunnel. After what seemed like ten minutes we suddenly pulled up and we were in a pocket of air. As we came to the surface I saw dry land. Here she let go of me and climbed ashore. I pulled myself up as well and stood before the exotic beauty. She smiled at me and giggled as her icy hand reached out to my genitals. She slowly massaged it. Here I was, underwater and with a real mermaid and all I could think about was where her pussy was?

  She moved toward me and dropped her head below my waist. I felt her wrap those beautiful lips around my dick. My eyes closed and I remember wondering how on earth I would explain to my friends that a mermaid gave me a blow job. They wouldn’t believe me, so this would be my secret, a beautiful mermaid all to
myself.

  And then a smell hit my nostril that I didn’t notice earlier. That stink, it reminded me of the trash outside the butcher shop. The trash cans that were full of rotting pig heads and other spoiled meat. The stink was similar. I opened my eyes and looked around me.

  Everywhere I looked I saw small bones. Some were in little piles while others were tied to strings for decoration. The stink originated from the half decayed bodies of children. They had been gutted as little piles of gore collected at their feet. How many were in this little subterranean cave? Then one dead face caught my eye. I recognized it well for she had gone missing not more than a week ago. Then I recognized another, and yet another. I looked down at the mermaid as she continued to perform oral sex on me and realized that it was she who was responsible for the missing children in Eutaw.

  It had to be her song, like the Siren’s in ancient Greek lore. The enchanting song attracted them to her, much as it did for me. She then pulled them down and ate them. Did she plan on eating me to? I suddenly felt ill and reached down, pulling her off me.

 

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