You can have so much more fun still....
Yes, this time, Hillary agreed completely with the voice. It was such a thrill tormenting her sister. She wasn’t ready to stop having fun with her just yet.
Jogging to her closet, Hillary opened the door. Her mother was right about the smell. It seemed to be ripening by the hour. Caleigh’s eyes were closed, but Hillary could see the slow swells of her chest as she breathed. Her face was nearly unrecognizable—bruised and swollen, crusted with dried brownish blood. She wondered how Caleigh was feeling, what she was thinking. There was one way to find out.
Hillary reached down and ripped the duct tape off Caleigh’s mouth. Caleigh awoke with a start and gasped loudly in pain.
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” she said jeeringly.
Caleigh moaned softly as her eyes adjusted to the light.
“So, how did you sleep?”
Caleigh’s mouth was dry. She licked her chapped lips.
“Water,” she said in a raspy, unfamiliar voice.
“Later,” Hillary replied, “I want to know how you slept.”
“Okay,” she answered, though it was a hellish night. She spent the night struggling to breathe. Her nasal passages were swollen, she was congested and she had that accursed duct tape over her mouth. Sleep was an infrequent, unfriendly visitor. When she managed to drift off, she awoke in what seemed like mere minutes, as a result of horrifying nightmares. And to add further insult to injury, her neck hurt from the awkward angle it was forced to sustain.
“Okay?” Hillary asked, disappointed. “Really?”
“Uh-huh,” Caleigh muttered.
“Did you like the way Dad smelled?”
“Fine,” Caleigh responded. She knew that Hillary was trying to get a rise out of her. She wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Besides, between the congestion and the vast amount of time she was crammed into the closet, the smell was barely noticeable to her any longer. As long as she didn’t think about what her useless body was jammed up against, she was fine.
Hillary was annoyed by Caleigh’s nonchalant attitude. She had just spent the night shoved against bags full of the smelly remains of her decaying father and the only words she could use to describe the experience were “okay” and “fine?”
“I’m sorry you were so bored,” she huffed, “I wish I had more time to entertain you.”
“Please,” Caleigh begged, her voice cracking, “water.”
“Now that’s interesting,” Hillary said, “maybe I’ll give you water tomorrow. Do you remember how you broke your promise to me? How you started screaming when you told me you’d behave?”
“Please,” Caleigh repeated then swallowed hard, the scant amount of saliva leaving her throat feeling even drier than before.
“You wanna scream now? Go ahead. Scream away.”
Caleigh turned her head weakly. She closed her eyes hoping she wouldn’t lose any tears. She wasn’t sure she had any left to shed.
Hillary grabbed Caleigh’s feet and dragged her limp body toward the middle of her room. Caleigh’s heart raced. She grew anxious wondering what Hillary would do to her next.
Leaving her sister on the floor, she quickly walked downstairs and gathered a stockpile of cleaning supplies and garbage bags. She carried the armload of items back to the room.
Caleigh, the human worm, looked dead. Her eyes were closed and she remained still even as Hillary dropped the cleaning supplies and bags to the floor beside her.
“Wake up!” she shouted, as she kicked her sister in the head.
Caleigh’s head jerked to the side with the force that Hillary’s foot exerted. Her eyes opened and she grimaced, looking up at Hillary.
“Water,” she begged feebly.
“Gimme a break,” Hillary sneered, “it hasn’t even been a full day yet...people can go days and days without water. You always were a drama queen.”
She rolled her eyes then looked loathingly down at her sister. She thought it was quite humorous that her hands and feet were still bound even though she could no longer move any of her limbs. She had thought about cutting the ropes, but what difference did it really make?
“So...thirsty,” Caleigh persisted.
“Since when did you become a caveman?” Hillary mocked “so thirsty, me so thirsty.”
“Please....”
“Shut up already!” Hillary shouted, irritated by Caleigh’s incessant whining. “I’ve got to hurry up and get Dad’s nasty parts out of here before Mom gets back.”
Hillary reached down and grabbed one of the large garbage bags. She carried it with her over to the closet and opened the bag that contained her father’s head, amongst other various body parts. Malodorous fumes plagued her nostrils. The parts were bloodied, moist and rancid. Hillary emptied half of the contents from one bag into the next. There was no way she would be able to drag them off to the woods otherwise.
She tied one of the bags, reached in to the other and found a hand-sized piece of her father’s flesh. It was hard to tell what part of him it had been cut from, but it would do nicely for what Hillary had in mind. She reached up and grabbed the duct tape. She tore off a long strip and carried it, along with her father’s putrid body part, to Caleigh.
“Look what I’ve got here,” Hillary taunted, waving the part over Caleigh’s head.
Caleigh’s eyes widened in disgust. She turned her face away. She didn’t want to look at it.
“You know what it smells like,” Hillary said light-heartedly, “now you’ll know what it tastes like....”
She lowered her hand with the once-human monstrosity toward Caleigh’s face.
“No, Hillary,” Caleigh cried fearfully, knowing even as she spoke the words that Hillary was going to feed her the nasty piece of rotting flesh.
“You know how many times I said ‘no?’ It never did me any good,” Hillary said, her smile fading and her brows furrowing.
“Please....” Caleigh cried.
Give it to her, she’s begging for it....
Hillary crouched down beside Caleigh. She rubbed her father’s dank, fetid flesh over Caleigh’s butchered face while her hysterical sister moved her head spastically, desperately trying to avoid contact with the repulsive thing. Hillary positioned her thigh against the side of Caleigh’s face to keep her from moving. She plied open Caleigh’s dry mouth and shoved the decomposing chunk of meat inside. Caleigh tried desperately to expel the flesh from her mouth, but Hillary was quick to grab the strip of tape she had torn off and place it over Caleigh’s stuffed mouth. To be safe, she positioned it at an angle, secure enough to keep Caleigh’s mouth shut over the nasty body part, yet open at the left corner of her mouth in case she vomited again.
Hillary stepped back to take in the sights and sounds coming from her frantic sister. Her head was thrashing about so wildly, Hillary feared Caleigh might cause herself to get whiplash. She smiled as she thought about how helpless her once-perfect sister must be feeling.
As expected, Hillary could see that Caleigh was throwing up. Unlike the thicker puke from the night before, this spew was mostly liquid and seeped from the opening she’d left down to Caleigh’s chin and neck, aside from the spatters that escaped and hit the floor due to Caleigh’s aberrant head flailing.
As much as Hillary enjoyed the spectacle, she knew she had a lot of work to do and little time to complete her mission. She couldn’t spare another second. She quickly undressed from her nightshirt and put on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.
Leaving Caleigh suffering on her bedroom floor, she dragged the garbage bags—one in each hand—from her room and down the stairs, allowing gravity to do the work for her. She pulled the bags straight to the foyer, opened the front door, dragged them to the porch, shut the door then dragged them down the porch steps and all the way to the wooded area past her driveway.
Hillary loved the woods. It was her special place, her haven. When the wind hit the trees just right, she could swear that they spoke to her
, revealing their secrets to her, as she had revealed her deep, dark, twisted secret to them.
Hillary had a spot she especially loved, a hidden alcove that was all her own. It wasn’t much farther from where she had taken her father’s car the morning before. It was less than a half mile from her house, off to the side of the main trail, within a narrow strip. She deposited the bags deep within the brush and bramble, struggling to push them all the way in to make room for the others she had to bring.
As she jogged back to her house, she examined the scratches she had on her hands. One scratch on her right hand was particular long and stung badly. She hoped her mother would not notice it and question her about it. She reached her house quickly and ran up the stairs without closing the front door. She peered over at her alarm clock. She still had almost an hour—plenty of time, at this rate.
Caleigh was still freaking out on the floor, making a sound that was more animal than human. Hillary dropped down beside her.
“How are you Caleigh?” she asked facetiously. “Still fine? Still okay?”
Caleigh continued her movements and noise, uninterrupted by Hillary’s comment.
“Caleigh,” Hillary called to her, trying to get her attention.
Still, Caleigh remained engrossed in her anguished song and dance.
“Caleigh,” Hillary repeated louder.
Still no response.
“Caleigh!” Hillary shouted, striking a fisted blow to her sister’s jaw.
There was a slight change in the pitch of Caleigh’s cries for a second or two, but aside from that, there was no sign that her sister was responsive.
Hillary pulled the tape off her sister’s mouth. The soggy, foul piece of flesh fell to the floor. Caleigh’s horrified, guttural whimpering grew louder now that the tape was no longer muffling it.
“Caleigh!” Hillary screamed, trying to get her sister’s attention.
Still, Caleigh ignored her, continuing on her course of delirium.
Was she in shock? What now, Hillary wondered. She grabbed Caleigh’s flailing head and tried to hold it steady, trying to make eye contact while she repeatedly called to Caleigh. Nothing was working. Caleigh had a blank, far-away look in her lackluster eyes. Hillary wondered if she had pushed her too far. Was she over the edge and never to return? Was her fun already over?
Not knowing what else to do about Caleigh, Hillary left her fussing on the floor next to their father’s chunk of flesh while she grabbed another garbage bag and walked over to her closet. As she had done before, she separated the contents from one of the full bags into the empty bag. It amazed her how warm and moist the fleshy parts were. If she had left her father’s body intact, it would be cold and stiff by now. The smell was, by far, worse than the feel of her father’s mutilated limbs and organs. It was worse than rotting food, worse than anything she could describe. She was glad she was getting his disgusting pieces out of her room—and out of her life—for good.
Hillary wiped her sticky, slimy hands on the sheet that was in the bag next to her nightshirt from the night she had killed her father. It sickened her to think that her father’s post-death fluids were seeping into her scratches, seeping into her. She had had enough of his juices in her. Scowling, she stuffed the sheet and nightshirt into the lighter bag, grabbed a bag in each hand and started her trek to the woods.
Despite the cool temperature, Hillary was sweating by the time she reached the alcove in the woods. She pushed the bags next to the two others, took a deep breath and slowly trudged back to the house. She was out of shape from all the longs months she spent in bed, wallowing in self-pity and misery.
Eyeing the clock, her heart began to race. Time was flying. If her mother didn’t encounter traffic in town, she could be back in just over a half an hour. She had to move quickly. She paid no attention to Caleigh on the floor, who had finally ended her lunatic episode and now lay motionless with her eyes closed. Hillary didn’t have the time to wonder or worry if she were alive or dead. She would determine that after she completed her task.
Grabbing a new garbage bag, she tore open the remaining full bag. She stopped as she was about to reach in. The overwhelming smell hit her like a punch in the face. It was strong and pungent enough to make her gag and choke. It made the other bags smell like flowers in comparison. She retched and heaved over the empty bag as the waffle she had for breakfast made its way out of her mouth. It left behind a sour, foul taste which caused Hillary to further vomit. She thought about the chunk of flesh she had shoved in Caleigh’s mouth, imagining that it must have tasted very much like the putrid taste currently in her mouth.
Cursing herself for being so weak and for wasting so much time, Hillary pulled herself together and reached into the full garbage bag. It was instantly obvious why it was the smelliest. Unlike the other bags that had mostly flesh and bones, this bag was wet and heavy, full of internal organs. Her father’s intestines, along with the filthy, nasty contents once housed within, were in pieces stewing next to other organs, such as his heart, liver, kidneys and stomach.
Holding her breath, Hillary quickly scooped up handfuls of her father’s innards and transferred them to the bag she had thrown up in. If she had more time, she could have tons of fun with Caleigh and all of these especially repugnant parts. The thought of tormenting Caleigh gave her the necessary drive to tolerate the horrendous smell and work faster in separating the contents into the new bag.
When at last she thought she was done, she tied the bags and grabbed them, ready to drag them forward. As she lifted the original bag, it dripped a trail of dark blood. Cursing, Hillary ran for another bag—the last garbage bag—and struggled to get it over the still-heavy, leaking bag. She looked at the mess it had left on the floor of her closet and shook her head despairingly. She would have a huge mess to clean up when she returned.
With the bags in tow, Hillary hurriedly walked back to the woods, panting all the way. She jammed the bags with the others, pulled some brush in front of them for cover, wiped her dirty hands on her jeans then marched back to her house, thankful that her mother’s car didn’t pass her on the way.
Out of breath and panting loudly, she ran straight to the refrigerator, grabbed a bottle of water and guzzled it down, ignoring the spills that ran down the side of her mouth. The cold made her shiver slightly and covered her arms with goose bumps. Leaving the open, empty bottle on the counter top, she pulled her rolled-up sleeves down then ran upstairs to her bedroom.
Caleigh was sobbing on the floor, much to Hillary’s relief. She was glad that her sister was still alive. Her eyes darted from Caleigh to the clock. She had barely ten minutes left. Her heart hammering within her chest, Hillary grabbed the cleaning supplies she had dropped to her carpet earlier. She wasn’t pleased with her choices, but under the circumstances, they would have to do. She opened the bathroom cleaner and poured in on the floor of her closet.
“Hill...” Caleigh moaned softly.
“Not now, Caleigh,” Hillary replied, as she sprayed the fresh drip marks on her carpet with a kitchen cleanser.
“Please....”
“Quit whining!” Hillary shouted. She grabbed the duct tape and tore off the last strip on the roll. It was barely enough to fully cover Caleigh’s mouth. She would have to figure out where to stash Caleigh before her mother returned home. She had thought about putting her in her own closet, but what it her mother went looking in there? She had thought about dragging her to the woods, but now there wasn’t enough time to make the trip there and back in time to get some cleaning done.
“Shit,” she exclaimed, worriedly. Each passing second increased her anxiety. She was on the verge of having her own hysteric episode.
The basement....
“The basement?” Hillary said aloud. She considered it. Her mother was often in the basement doing laundry. What if she heard Caleigh moving her head around or grunting through the tape? Then again, there was a good area toward the back that they had used for storage. It was near the
boiler, which would help to conceal any sound Caleigh would make. Hillary smiled. It was perfect. The voice of reason had come through for her yet again.
Hillary stepped quickly to Caleigh, grabbed her tied ankles and dragged her out of her room and down the stairs. She ignored the loud smacking sound that Caleigh’s head made each time Hillary descended a step. She ignored Caleigh’s subsequent muffled outburst. She’ll survive, she told herself. She dragged Caleigh down the hall and to the basement door. She opened it slowly, took a few steps down then pulled Caleigh along, again, ignoring the thumping of her head against the steps and her pained cries.
“You need to lose weight,” she commented to Caleigh, as she caught her breath at the bottom of the stairs. The basement was only partially finished. Hillary dragged Caleigh’s body over the rough concrete floor and over to the storage area to the right side of the hot water heater and boiler. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed Caleigh from under her arms and pulled her behind a stack of boxes and plastic totes. There was barely enough space to hide her sister’s body. Of course, Caleigh’s sustained, muffled protests only served to increase Hillary’s anxiety and frustration.
When Hillary thought she had done a sufficient job concealing Caleigh’s body, she walked around to the front of the pile to take a look. Caleigh’s feet stuck out beyond the containers and would be noticeable if her mother was facing that direction.
Sighing heavily, Hillary walked back to Caleigh’s body and struggled to move her over to the other side. It was a daunting task given the lack of space with which Hillary had to maneuver her own body, let alone Caleigh’s lifeless, heavy one. Finally, Hillary had fulfilled her goal. Caleigh was carefully stashed behind the storage containers. She breathed heavily as she ran up the basement stairs, stopping only to grab the roll of paper towels before bounding up the stairs to her room. She had no sooner entered her bedroom when she heard the front door open.
“My God, that smell is growing!” her mother exclaimed loudly.
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