We Dream About Surviving

Chapter 3 - Throat Slitting

November, 2341

Today I work for no man, today is all about me. It’s Sunday morning, the sun has barely begun rising, as I enter the old warehouse. This place is a fucking goldmine, I’ve already spend many happy hours here, doing what I enjoy doing the most. My first kill happened right here, the guy with the knife, and even if that should bring back some bad memories, it still makes me happy to think about. The sound of a cracking skull really can’t be compared to anything else, and the satisfaction of being the one making it happen, is just pure bliss.

I’m wandering around the empty building aimlessly, trying to settle on a good method. There are so many possibilities in this place, old tools lying around, rusty bits and pieces, for fucks sake, there’s a god damned acid basin kept in one of the other rooms. Whatever this place used to be, it’s my happy place now.

I’ve got four people with me here today, each of them tied to an old metal chair, trying to wiggle their way out of massive amounts of Gaffer tape and rope. I have no fear leaving them on their own as I stroll around the building, there is no way in hell they are going anywhere. Even if they had a knife or some other tool, they wouldn’t be able to get away from me. Besides, I won’t be gone long, I just need to make up my mind. Glancing into the room where the acid is kept, I scrunch up my eyebrows considering it, then shake my head and move on. I’ll get back to that at some point, but not today. I’m in the mood for something quick but messy. I want to see blood gush out, and most importantly, I want to see the life slip out of them. I want the whole ‘eyes pleading for mercy, then rolling backwards until only white is visible’ experience. It makes the choice rather obvious, but I want to do it the old fashioned way. No electricity blades here, no, I want something that hurts a lot more than that. Besides, those blades tends to sear the skin, cutting off some of the blood flow, which can be good in some scenarios, but not today.

I find my way to a room filled with old tools. This place really must have been abandoned for ages, the age and rustiness of them taken into consideration. Shit for working with, if you were doing what they were originally meant to do, absolutely perfect for me.

I look through the wooden boxes, finding a particularly long blade. With my gloved fingers I test its stability, making sure it won’t break in the middle. Not that it would matter all that much to me if it did, but it would be annoying to stop halfway, just to go and get another. It seems like it’ll pull through the act, and with a shrug I return to the room containing my victims.

It’s a family of four; a mom, a dad, two kids about ten and twelve years old. I’ve put black cotton bags over their heads, tape across their mouths underneath, but I can hear their muffled attempts at screaming for help.

I’m not wearing any kind of disguise or even a cap, it doesn’t matter what they see, they will never be in any position to identify me anyway. I always finish the job, I never back out or feel the slightest bit of remorse for doing what I do. I was smart enough to wear black though, no need to ruin good clothes.

As I remove the bags one by one, golden light is flooding through the broken windows. I’m giving them one last look at beauty, even if some of it is obscured by ugly concrete buildings. Right here though, there’s a small gap between them, and the sunrise is absolutely amazing. I’m standing behind them, watching the sun paint the sky orange, pink and purple, taking it all in. It’s looking out to be a beautiful day.

With the bags gone, the noises are becoming a little more persistent, as they shift around, still thinking they can magically break themselves out and away from me. I’ve taped everything from ankles to shoulders safely to the chairs, I’m not the least bit worried if they’ll make it, cause they won’t. Taking a last deep breath, I step forward, moving myself in front of them.

“So,” I say with a small smile, “Who wants to go first?”

The fear is apparent in their eyes, big and wide, white showing all around the iris. I almost can’t keep myself from laughing, this is perfect. Exactly what I want right now, things are going really well for me these days, and this just adds to the list. For a brief second images of Shadow rush through my brain, and my smile grows soft. I shake my head; can’t spend all day thinking about my boyfriend.

Instead I pull forth the knife, waving it around near their faces. “No takers? Oh well… Guess I’ll just have to go from left to right then.”

I step back behind them, grabbing a hold of the first head, the one belonging to the oldest of the two girls. I can see how the other three are trying fiercely to turn their heads, their eyes pleading at me to not do it. Just the way I want them to. I grin as I pull back her head by the hair, and in one swift motion I run the blade across the front of her neck. It sticks a little, the rust making it pretty close to impossible to get a clean cut, but that really isn’t my problem.

I let her head fall back, blood pulsating out through the opening, and move on to the next in line. The mother is crying, tears running down her slightly bruised face. She put up quite the struggle when I came and grabbed them, more so than the father did. It’s okay, I think I may have gotten a slight bruise on my arm from when she tried to bite me, but other than that I’m going to get off without a scratch. Taking them while they slept was easy, tying them up and getting them in the trunk of my car probably the hardest part. Had to put the father on the backseat, there simply wasn’t any room left.

The mother is trying to scream, but it’s not going to do her any good. Even if she could make a sound through the tape, there’s no one around to hear her. Not only is this building abandoned, we are also far off in the factory district, where there aren’t any people around till eight at its earliest. Besides, she’s next in line, so she won’t be a problem much longer. The knife is dripping blood down her T-shirt as I put it to her neck, and in a horribly jagged motion, I slit her throat.

The father makes an aggressive movement, more so than when I killed his kid. Odd how people react to the death of their loved ones, sometimes I wish I could watch every single person’s misery, after I’ve killed someone they care about. This is probably as close as I’ll get, but then again, this is good.

I move on to the next kid, this tiny girl, and I have to bend over to get a clear hold of her face. She’s wriggling and twisting in her seat, not that it matters, but it’s still slightly annoying. At this point she should just accept her fate, let it go and die. Her hair is long though, and pulling it back into a tight ponytail, I gain the control I need. It’s as if the knife grows duller with each cut, and in spite of how small she is, I have to put a lot of force into it. No big deal, she dies all the same, blood spraying everywhere as I make the swift motion.

Now the father’s head hangs low, he has given up, and even if he hasn’t, he’s torn down by sorrow. The father is the last on my list, but before slitting his throat along with the others, I move in front of him, looking him closely in the eyes. I want to catch every last bit of emotion, every last piece of fear, despair and sadness. I like it, I like seeing them like this. All of those basic human emotions rummaging around, it’s both satisfying and intriguing to see them up close. I’m not sure whether or not I’m capable of any of those emotions myself though, sometimes I find it a little more worrying than the fact that I enjoy killing people in the first place. It brings my thoughts back on Shadow, what if he expects certain things of me, some basics that I’m just incapable of doing? Then again, he does make me feel a lot of things I didn’t deem myself capable of just a month ago, so I might be in the safe zone after all.

In the end I open up his throat with the dull, rusty knife, blood gushing out and mingling with that of the others. The front of my shirt is soaked through by it, as well are my pants. I look down at myself, noticing only now, that I have been stupid enough to put on white sneakers. Fuck damn it, they are so covered in blood, I might as well throw them out. I groan at my own stupidity, I really liked those shoes.

***

The drive home could have been beautiful, were it not for Destiny City. Had I been out in some forest, or driving down from the top of a mountain, I would have stopped a dozen of times, just to watch the golden light. Instead I’m inside this hellhole of a metropolitan, with nothing to see except for dull, gray buildings; the most interesting thing catching my eye being plants placed in flower boxes outside of windows.

I swing by Shadow’s place before going home, not to go up there or anything like that, I just drive by the building, glancing up at his window. It’s silly really, but I like the thought of him just getting out of bed, walking sleepily into the kitchen and wait for his mom to make him breakfast. I can practically see all the little silver hairs jotting out in every which direction, before he manages to pull it back up in its regular ponytail; I can see the way he rubs his eyes, with the base of his hand; see the way he’s slumped over the kitchen table as he waits for coffee. I chuckle a little at this, why the poor guy still haven’t figured out how to use the coffee machine, is a mystery to me.

Looking down at myself, seen in the clear morning light, I’m certain I can’t go up there. My clothes may be black, but that doesn’t make blood invisible, nor does it cover whatever has spattered onto my face. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, I agree with myself even more; I really do have blood smeared all over my face. I should shower, but I need to take care of the bodies first. Now that they’re dead, they were a lot easier to fit into the trunk, and I’m driving around with four people in there, all of them cut open. I consider my options, there’s not a lot of places where you can just dump a body without being noticed, but the ones there are, I know by heart. I was hired a few times by a mobster, who taught me where to get rid of body parts, and I doubt that he cares if I throw in some of my personal work.

It’s a bit of a long drive, in exact opposite direction from where I live, but it’s worth it. You don’t come by a whole lot of large dumpsters these days, and even less cardboard pressers. The stores use them to get rid of all their boxes, and this particular one, is hiding out behind an unlocked gate. Getting the bodies into it isn’t the easiest of tasks, at least not if you want to go by it without being spotted, but I manage. The store hasn’t opened yet, I’ve still got a few hours before it does, and I press the bodies into a nice bloody pulp without anyone ever noticing. Of course it would have been easier to just throw them down into the acid back at the abandoned building, but that I’m saving for a special occasion. Squishing bodies into messy piles, is a little satisfactory on its own, and it’s not too big of a hassle. Once they are completely smashed up, I scoop up as much of the remains as I can with a shovel, and toss it in the nearby dumpster. Easy as that.

***

When I finally get inside my apartment, I barely cuddle with Tofu before I strip down and move myself to the shower. I leave the bloody clothes on the bathroom floor, and stretch out my entire body, as I wait for the water to heat. There is indeed a small bruise where the wife bit me, but that’ll be gone in a few days, tops. If Shadow asks, I’ll just have to tell him I bumped into something. Not that far from the truth, I did sort of bump into a set of teeth, right?

The water is burning hot when I step into it, little droplets turning bright red as they make impact with my body. I didn’t even notice how much I was covered in it before now, but it’s pouring off of me, making a mess. I hate when my home isn’t sparkly clean, I’m great with blood and guts at work, but in my apartment? Hell no, I fucking hate it. I make a mental note of cleaning off the tiles first chance I get, even if I would much rather go to bed. I was up at four in the morning to do this, and even if it was a hobby related murder, it’s still a lot of work.

The doorbell sounds, and I flinch. My mind is running rampant, trying to figure out who the fuck it might be, if anyone has spotted me doing what I did, if it’s the police who’s finally caught on and come to get me. I curse under my breath, as I step out of the bloodied up shower, pull a towel from the hanger, and wrap it around my waist before going into the hallway.

Normal people have security systems, where they are capable of seeing precisely who is ringing their doorbell, on a little screen connected to a practically invisible sensor right outside the door. I’m not normal people, and therefore one of the first things I did when I moved in here, was to disable the damned thing, pulling it out by the cords and throwing it in the garbage. It seemed like the right thing to do, yet now it seems incredibly stupid.

“Who is it?” I call out, considering whether or not I should grab a weapon of some sort. I have a lot of those lying around after all, anything your heart might desire actually. I even have a few guns, although those are safely hidden in locked boxes.

“It’s me,” a chipper voice answers. It’s Shadow, oh thank fuck, it’s Shadow.

“Just a second,” I respond, and quickly jump back into the bathroom, checking if all the blood has been scrubbed off of me. It has, the bathroom itself is a mess, but I seem to be clean enough for company. I keep the towel wrapped around me as I return and open the door. “Hey, sorry, I was in the shower.”

I give him a quick kiss, and he looks at me with wide eyes. I’m close to naked, and I like the way he’s looking at me, his eyes running up and down my body. Even if his sight is nothing like mine, he’s still taking it all in, and it’s pretty damned cute the way his freckles light up as he does. Just as he enters the apartment, Tofu comes running out, jumping up and resting her paws against Shadow’s legs. She’s grown a lot more excited about his visits, which I take to be a good thing. Not that I have anything to compare it with, I just assume she’s a good judge of character.

“Hey now, down girl,” I call out to her, and she immediately do as I say, even if she does look at me with those big brown eyes, begging me to let her do whatever she wants.

I’m not about to, instead I lead the two of them into the living room, moving myself towards the bedroom to get dressed. Shadow grabs onto my hand though, pulling me down towards the couch. I lose my balance and topple over, halfway landing in his lap, laughing as I do so.

“What are you doing?” I chuckle, and he shrugs.

“I just figured you were halfway to where I wanted you to be, might as well help you the rest of the way,” he gestures up and down my naked body, a smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes.

I know exactly what he wants, and instead of getting dressed I shuffle around until I’m sitting on his lap, legs locking around his waist. For a second my mind wanders towards the dirty bathroom tiles, the worry of him might going out there and notice a whole lot of red droplets running down them. When he moves slightly, pulls me in closer and kisses me deeply, I forget everything about it.

***

We’ve gotten a lot better at it, and when we’re done it’s past noon. We moved into the bedroom, the couch being too small for it to be any kind of comfortable. His head is resting on my shoulder, as I run fingers through strands of silvery hair, all mussed up from the sex. For a little while I manage to stay put, but the condition of the bathroom is starting to worry me again. Gently I move away, excusing myself to get out there. I pull on boxers and a T-shirt before leaving the bedroom, I still can’t figure out the whole ‘being naked’ thing, even if I have grown a little more comfortable with it. Something shifted when he entered my life, some things became easier and more natural, even if they still feel unfamiliar and weird.

Entering the bathroom, I conclude it truly is a mess. Not only is there red lines running down every wall, there’s also a pool of it near the drain, and slightly red footprints from when I left to open the door. Groaning I find a washcloth and a sponge from the cupboard, it’s not exactly ideal, but it’ll have to do. I can’t start hosing it all down, it’ll take too long and sound like I’m taking a shower, which wouldn’t make any kind of sense. Instead I carefully wet the sponge in the sink, and start scrubbing off the most of it. The footprints are the worst, you can’t not spot them if you go out there. Working quickly it only takes me a couple of minutes, and I rinse out the sponge and cloth, before throwing them in the hamper. Both should be thrown out, but I’d rather clean that up later, even if it will get on my nerves that they are lying there, leftover water soaking into my clothes.

When I get back out Shadow is sitting on the couch, fiddling with my pack of cigarettes. He looks at it curiously, and I take it out of his hand, desperate to get some good old fashioned nicotine and chemicals down in my lungs.

“Can I have one?” he asks, already giving me his best puppy dog eyes.

“You sure about that? Your mom’s gonna kill me if you get addicted.”

“I won’t from just one, will I?”

“I dunno, I liked it instantly.”

“Hmm,” he thinks it over for a while. I’m not going to deny him a cigarette, if he wants to smoke he will, but I still worry a little about the consequences. “I’ll try one, if I don’t like it, I’ll never ask for one ever again.”

Chuckling I pull one from the pack, handing it to him along with a lighter. He holds it between his index finger and thumb, looking completely ridiculous, and I can’t hold back a little laugh. I take it away from him, readjust his hands and fingers, and put it back where it’s supposed to be.

“Now put it to your lips and inhale slowly when I light it,” I explain, and he does as he’s told.

Putting the lighter just below the edge of the cigarette, I click it, a small flame licking at the tip of the white paper. He immediately coughs, not excessively, but he does look a little taken aback by the smoke making its way to his lungs. Still watching him I light up another for myself. He manages to get through the entire cigarette without complaining, and he looks immensely satisfied with himself as he stumps it out in the ashtray.

“That was… Not so bad, actually,” he sounds surprised, and I shake my head.

“You’re gonna start smoking.”

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are. Soon enough you’ll be asking me for cigarettes every time we’ve fucked, then in the morning, after meals, eventually all times of the day.”

“I can just buy my own cigarettes you know.”

“With what?”

He thinks it over for a while. “Maybe I’ll take on a part time job?”

I put my arms around him, pulling him in close. “Then when will you ever have the time to see me?”

“So what, you’d be willing to support my new addiction just to get to see me?”

“Yes, actually, I would.” It’s not like I don’t have enough money for it, with a just couple of jobs a week, I’ve got a lot more than I need.

“I don’t wanna be freeloading off of you!”

I sigh, shaking my head. “Let’s just wait and see if it’s gonna be a problem in the first place. You might decide you don’t wanna smoke at all.”

He huffs, then pulls out his Sense, checking the time. “Aw shit, I’ve got a big paper due tomorrow, I should go home.”

“Can’t I just drive you home and get it, then you can do your homework here?”

“I guess so, yeah...” he thinks it over for a while, then nods. “Yeah, that would be nice actually. Would give us a little more time for all the fun stuff,” he winks at me, and I shake my head, a small smile gracing my lips.

I get up off the couch, go back into the bedroom and start getting dressed. His clothes are scattered all over the living room, and when I get back out he’s fully dressed. He goes into the hallway to get on his jacket, then, “What happened to your shoes?”

I freeze. Those motherfucking shoes, I forgot all about them, and there they are, standing in the middle of the hallway, covered in blood. What the fuck am I going to say? My mind is grasping for some sort of explanation, while I’m battling to keep my face as neutral as possible. This is bad, this is so fucking bad, how the fuck am I going to explain a couple of bloodied up shoes?

“I was taking Tofu for a walk earlier,” I begin the sentence, all sorts of catastrophic thoughts pushing through. “Must have walked through some mud or something.”

He nods, then shrugs. “Sounds nice.”

Hum halle-fucking-lujah, he’s buying into it. I let out a small sigh of relief, pull on my coat and another pair of shoes that aren’t covered in blood, then push him out the door. I’ve got to get my shit together, and be a hell of a lot more careful from now on.

***

After getting his stuff, having a brief conversation with his mom who willingly lets him do his studying at my place (“don’t spend all your time fooling around now, you hear me?”), we return to my place. I glance anxiously at the shoes when we enter, hoping he won’t look at them all too closely. It seems obvious to me that it isn’t mud, but then again, his vision is a lot different than mine.

He’s been working on his report for a couple of hours, typing away on the Sense, swiping back and forth between reading material and the report itself. In the end he had most of his school stuff lying around on it, only a single book is in physical format, and only because his teacher is so old he can’t figure out the Sense system. It seems to annoy Shadow to no end that he needs to keep a book next to him, and do actual highlights with actual markers, something I can’t quite relate to. Then again, I’m as backwards as his teacher is, I prefer everything to be real.

He snaps the book shut, and looks at me. “You know it’s Sunday, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“So I get my question,” he smiles a little, but he looks nervous, fidgeting slightly with the hem of his sleeve.

“Ask away.”

He’s flustered, as he carefully weighing his words, says, “Do you… Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

This makes me laugh, and I smile as I say, “I thought I already was your boyfriend.”

“Really?” he looks stunned, apparently he had no idea.

“What did you think we were?” I’m still laughing, this is absolutely ridiculous.

“I dunno! Maybe you just saw me as some friend with benefits or something like that!”

“Have you been seeing me as that?” a slight worry is creeping into my voice, even if I am 90% sure he hasn’t.

“No of course not!”

I walk over and kiss him, deeply and intensely. “Then I guess you’re my boyfriend.” I smile, and I feel genuinely happy. It’s an odd feeling, but I like it none the less.