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SAD in May — Day Ten

May 11, 2014

prompt: use a piece of music as inspiration and a proverb


By Lori Carlson

He returned; back to the place of his torment, back to the place where he danced with death and was found unworthy. He had moved on to another city, but the women were not so willing there, the taste of blood was not so sweet, and the delight of pursuit had lost its vigor. He’d been away for two years and tonight he planned his greatest triumph: Katie Gibson, the girl he’d wanted in high school, the cheerleader, the prom queen. He’d heard she just returned to Austin Heights from college. She was staying with her parents, a house he knew well from years of watching her from the tree outside her bedroom window.

He had every detail planned. He’d rented the old Samson house on the outskirts of town. It was a Victorian with a large completed basement, just perfect for what he had planned for Katie. Inside, he had constructed a large metal box, fixed with restraints for the hands and the feet. He had his favorite instruments laid out on a table, glistening stainless steel. And a record player with his favorite music was set to go. All he needed now was Katie.

He sat in his car two houses down from Katie’s house and watched. Her parents were going to the Opera for the night. He’d learned that detail from his parents. Everyone who was anyone was going to be there. When he saw them exiting the house, he held his breath… just a few more minutes. The pair entered their Mercedes and drove away. He got out of his car and, hugging the shadows, walked to Katie’s house. He went up the driveway, which was at the side of the house and tried the door to the garage. What luck! It was unlocked. Once inside the garage, he took the white cloth and bottle of ether out of his pocket. He went to the inner door and tried it. Again he couldn’t believe his luck. This was destiny! He slowly turned the handle and opened the door. Silently, he slipped inside what looked like a washroom. He followed the light and was led into a kitchen, from there, a living room. He peeked around the corner of the doorway and saw Katie sitting on a couch with her back to him. He opened the ether and doused the cloth, slipping the ether back into his pocket. He then tiptoed behind Katie and wrapped the cloth around her face, holding it tightly until she went limp. Slinging her over his shoulder, he quietly carried her to his car and placed her in the back seat.

When Katie came to, her hands and feet were tied to the metal box and it was standing up against the wall. She was also naked. She cried out frantically and thrashed her arms about trying to free them. She saw a shadowy figure off to her left. It came closer and closer until it was standing in front of her. Dressed all in black with a black mask on, the figure said, “Hush hush, little Katie. You will live through this if you only obey me.”

He walked to the record player and put on Danse Macabre by Camille Saint-Saens. As the music filled the room, he began to waltz around, picking up instruments and gliding past Katie, slicing at her midsection. She screamed in agony. “Yes, yes! Scream dear Katie, scream! For every time you laughed at me, you will scream!” He continued his dance until blood dripped from every angle of Katie’s stomach and abdomen. Suddenly he stopped right in front of her. He gripped her face with his left hand and held a bloodied scalpel in the other.

“Do you remember the school’s play of Faust? Do you remember how you and your friends sat in the front row laughing?” He waited for a look of recognition and when he had it, he slashed the scalpel from one corner of her face down to the other. He began laughing as Katie screamed and cried. “There are consequences, Katie!”

For hours, he poked and prodded and sliced at Katie’s body. All mere surface wounds, but she would have scars to remind her of her misdeeds. When he was finished, he once again knocked her out with ether and wrapped her in a sheet. He transported her to the high school where he tied her to the goal post on the football field, in all of her naked, bloody glory.

When Katie came to in the hospital, the police tried to get a statement from her. She only repeated the same thing over and over again, “It was the Devil.”

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