Theo barked a short laugh. ‘Oh don’t worry; I know what goes on around here. Didn’t take you long to shack up with the new fella next door did it?’
Rachel’s heart skipped another beat as her saliva dried up.
‘What?’ she croaked.
‘Oh what? Are you gonna deny it? I saw him. Even had a key for the place. Guess things move a little more quickly than they did back in my day. Back when we still had a little decency.’
‘What?’ Rachel repeated, suddenly sick to the stomach.
‘Well we didn’t go around shacking up with anything that has a heartbeat for a start.’
Rachel could feel the pulse building at her temple again. ‘What do you mean he had a key?’
That fucking old bitch!
Theo was looking at her oddly now and it dawned on Rachel that her eyelid was rapidly fluttering again.
‘He was locking up as I walked past. Fucking prick wouldn’t give me the time of day. Too busy to stop and say a few words…’
Theo’s voice drained away into the background as Rachel tried to compute what he was telling her.
It was a strange, almost dream-like state that descended on her as she slowly eased herself back a few steps and looked back down the driveway.
And there he fucking was…
Had he been heading for her door?
He was making a beeline for his car now but it looked faked and forced; like he’d taken a few too many steps forward before changing tack.
Had he only moved after he’d seen her?
And what was that he was stuffing back into his pocket? Was that the glint of metal in his hand?
Rachel stood and stared at him; stared at him and at the duffel bag he held, tucked under one arm. The cramping tension spread through her body once more.
She watched him open the door of the car; watched him fumble around inside; saw the furtive glances he was shooting her through the back window.
He didn’t look back at her when he headed for his door but Rachel watched him the whole way. The cramp stinging as she slowly clenched and unclenched her fists.
The fucking bastard. The fucking bastard… It looped in her mind as she dug her nails into her palm, reopening the scabbed crescents that ran across it.
Come on, don’t… the voice began but Rachel roared shut the fuck up and it promptly disappeared.
‘…Are you alright? You’re bleeding?’
Rachel felt a hand on her shoulder and whipped around to face Theo, her anger blazing.
‘I’m fucking fine,’ she hissed and Theo recoiled, cupping his hand to his chest like he’d just touched a hot-plate. He opened his mouth, thought better of it and closed it again.
Rachel left him standing there as she slowly walked back to her flat. The loop played repeatedly as the blood dripped through her fingers.
The fucking bastard, the fucking bastard, the fucking bastard…
* * * * *
Ben felt all his worries melt away as the red enclosed him. The last lingering shreds of his panic dissipated. The fear that had gripped him after he’d almost been sprung. Dissipated in its comfortable embrace.
It had been a close thing. A stupid thing. He should have been tipped off by the fact she wasn’t in her uniform. If she’d been a minute later. Even thirty seconds, he would have had the key in the lock…
But at least he knew it was the weekend now, even if that meant another night or two’s wait.
That was okay though. He could keep himself occupied. He grinned now as he remembered the agonising wait with his back pressed to the door; certain that she’d seen through his ruse; that she’d seen the key in his hands; waiting for the first siren to sound. None of it mattered now though because he was back in the Red Room with his leather apron on and he had the whole night to play. He didn’t have to emerge again until she left for work.
And then the real fun would begin…
…He stood and surveyed them hanging there on their meat hooks and his hand slipped beneath his apron as he saw her in all her infinite varieties. He stepped across and lifted the thigh of number two – she’d been naked when he’d taken her – and revealed the slit between her lifeless thighs. His fist pumped and pumped.
He dropped the leg back down after a minute and his eyes drifted across to the empty hook as he hoisted her down. Soon, it would be so soon. It was becoming his favourite refrain.
He slapped her down onto the table and strapped her in. He waited patiently for the life to return to her eyes and timed his punch to perfection. It connected just as she opened her mouth to let rip and his penis pulsed as he felt the teeth give way beneath his fist.
The wide eyes flooded red as she bucked in shock and agony, bursting the blood vessels as she strained. He clamped her jaw hard, forcing it open and studied her now ripped and torn gum line while she choked on the blood trickling down her throat. He flicked aside the apron as his orgasm approached, manoeuvred into position and ejaculated into her open mouth, the semen splattering in thick ropes across the shattered fragments of her teeth.
He threw her head back down. It impacted with such a satisfying crunch. He smiled as he watched her lying there dazed, choking and spluttering at the horrid cocktail in her mouth. He especially enjoyed the confusion in her eyes. As he slowly walked over to the bench and surveyed his tools, the look stayed with him the whole way. It was just so fitting. The perfect visual to sum up how he’d felt the first time she’d come for him in the middle of the night
She was trying to talk behind him but the words only came out as gibberish. He picked up the carving knife from the bench, his cock already swelling to life again. He held it up nice and high so she could see.
He circled her and listened to her sobbing. He did three circuits and then stopped at her feet. Gently, he prodded the sole with the blade’s tip.
She bucked but there was nowhere for her to go.
He prodded harder and flicked the blade down, tracing a red line over the sole.
He watched the blood well for a moment.
She heaved and panted; heaved and panted.
He pushed the blade more firmly this time. It took two hands. It sank through flesh and gristle. It grated against bone. His penis throbbed as he watched it slowly emerge from the other side. The blood flowed down over her ankle in a slowly increasing river.
Her back arched off the table, she froze in an agonising rictus. Blood and jism sprayed from her mouth as she screamed long and loud. Her breasts were framed perfectly against the red hue of the background, the nipples stiff and erect. He decided he’d work on them next.
But first finish with the foot…
He began to saw, yanking the knife upwards. The sound of grating bone filled the air. He got the blade up a centimetre and it jammed. He tore it free and studied the gobs that spattered on his apron for a moment.
Vomit bubbled from her lips.
He smiled as he returned to the bench and let the knife clutter back among the tools. He picked up the metal shears and returned to her. She’d passed out so he slapped her back awake before he returned to her feet. He locked eyes with her as he opened the blades. She mouthed something that looked like no.