2 Years Ago
2 Years ago I released my first horror collection, Carnage. While it hasn’t gotten a lot of sales, it did win the Coyotl Award for 2021 Best Novella, so I’m pretty happy with it. I figured this week, I’d share a story from the book. If you read this sample, consider checking the full book out. Links below!
LOVE IN THE TIME OF DEATH
“So, you come here often?” He flashed his wallet to the server while his spotted fingers circled the rim of his cocktail.
“Thank you, officer. I’ll wipe your tab for the night,” the server said as he walked away. A fuckin’ cop that gets free drinks at a bar. Not a bad pick on a night like that night. My eyes trailed over his body, taking him in. His hair glowed crimson underneath the bar lights, his white and black spotted fur soaking in the low blue neon from our table. The Dalmatian was a hot choice, and it had been too long since I’d had a hot piece of meat like him.
I wasn’t used to seeing them in plain clothes. Most of the ones on hook up apps liked to show off their uniform, as if their power trip knew no bounds. But that was who they were, fuckin’ cockroaches.
“It’s not my usual, but I needed a change,” I responded distantly, eyes trailing to the others in the room with us. Most were scattered about; even after the virus had hit, we still craved social interactions. A slow synthwave played in the background as we shared a table. TVs on the walls showed news reports of the latest deaths. We were living in an unprecedented time, but it didn’t matter. We were creatures of habit. Creatures unable to remain without physical interactions. Internet calls and social media only took us so far when we craved seeing the sky at night outside of a bar. I guessed I was no different. I took a sip of my drink. I rarely had alcohol, so I made it last. Besides, I couldn’t get drunk that night. I had my mission and he was sitting right before me. My red fur glowed. We were a colorful pair, though when the lights went out, he would be devoid of anything except the blood red hair buzzed on his head. “What brings you out on a night like this? Aren’t you afraid of getting sick?”
He kicked back in his seat and laughed wildly. “No illness can take me.” A confident one at that. I loved it when those bastards were cocky. He knew he was gonna get his baton worked on and now he was flexin’ to me. As if I’d be so impressed. Fuckin’ cops. He guzzled the last of his drink and waved at the bartender for another. I smiled, thinking of getting him alone tonight, admiring his cut torso. I liked them confident, and he was brimming with it.
“I’ve never met someone so full of themselves,” I said teasingly, taking my hand and stroking his forearm. His face contorted for a moment, then eased as I touched him.
“I’ve never met a stoat so talkative.” It was cute that he tried teasing back. I indulged him and chuckled briefly, although a part of me hoped my remark hurt his ego just a touch. I didn’t want to lose him, but I could have a bit of fun while I waited.
“I could talk your ear off all night, puppy. Just have to follow me home,” I said with a wink. The boy smiled and nodded towards the door. “It’s a short walk,” I said as we got up and left. He stumbled for a moment and I carried him against my shoulder. The pup was drunker than I thought. That night would be easy. “Let me carry you, puppy.” I dragged my tongue along his cheek, then nibbled his ear. The boy let out a small moan as we walked outside. My hand lingered down his back, grabbing his ass firmly as we ventured around the block. The neighborhood was quiet most nights, and tonight wasn’t an exception. Barely anyone wanted to be out at night; most of the neighbors were old. A night of partying was never something they would indulge in, at least not anymore.
“How much farther?” the words oozed through his teeth, a small slur from the alcohol in his system. His breath was bad. Every second he opened his mouth was like a keg pouring out last month’s ale. The stale air of alcohol he breathed out each time was obnoxious, but I could handle it for a few moments. I just had to get him into my door.
“Not much, baby. I’m just two more houses down.” He was heavy. I didn’t mind carrying him, but damn, was this drunk bastard a pain to hold.
I could hear their growling in the distance. The world was theirs at night, whatever those feral, frothing beasts were. Some said zombies, others said demons sent by God, but no god would create an existence as bleak as theirs. We’d learned to live with them; at least that was what our leaders pushed for. But that was all politics.
In the distance, a trashcan tumbled over and I saw it. A figure standing, staring at us. It was a mere shadow under the moonlight, but I knew what it was. The driveway to my home wasn’t much farther. I pulled my prey along with me, his body getting drowsy as he leaned against me. “Let’s go,” I said sternly, yet low enough for the beast not to hear. As we neared my home, I saw it running for me. I grabbed the Dalmatian and dragged him up to my porch. Trying to find my keys, I saw it getting closer. I cursed myself for not planning for simple problems like that, then grabbed a plant from my porch and chucked it at the creature coming for us. It tripped the moment it was hit, scrambling on the ground as I found my key and pushed us both inside.
I pushed the Dalmatian into my home. He tripped onto the floor, which was expected considering how much he drank. “What was that?” he asked as he tried to pick himself back up.
“It’s one of the infected. You’ve never seen one?” I responded, locking the door behind me, and baring it shut. I didn’t need any intrusions tonight.
“I mean, I have on TV and stuff, but never in person.” He just sat there, like a child shocked at learning something horrific.
“Still think you’re invincible?” I asked playfully as I bent down and grabbed his crotch.
He shook it off the moment my hand made contact. He pulled me and started licking my neck. “Ain’t nothin’ in the world can kill me.”
We didn’t make it to the bedroom. I stretched him out on the couch and started to unzip his pants. It’d been awhile since I’d been with anyone, since I’d had the need to bring anyone home. I lowered his briefs and slid my tongue along his sheath. I always liked them musky, and the moment I latched onto his cock, I was hit with his stench. I could feel my cock get hard as I huffed him. I slid along his balls, waiting for his cock to peer out. He let out a brief moan, his cock poking out the moment my tongue touched him. I moved my mouth along his body, his abs, his neck. I kissed him hard, as it had been years since anyone has kissed me; as I hadn’t felt the warmth of another body and needed it. I could taste the cocktails on his tongue. I loathed it for a second, powering through as I slid my tongue around his muzzle. He kept breathing intoxication into my mouth, and for a slight minute, I thought I might get drunk off it. It might have made the breath more bearable. The moment I felt his cock get hard, I went down and lubed it up, sucking it off ‘til it became slick. Without making the boy wait, I pushed him in. I pushed myself down to his knot. Though I wanted it in me, I wasn’t sure I could take it. As a stoat, my ass was not as stretchy as we made it seem. I rode him hard. The couch shook beneath us, but I didn’t care. I wanted to wreck every inch of that dick.
I started to stroke myself. I could feel my climax coming quick, and I didn’t care if I coated him. A swift release was any release in those uncertain times. His moans quaked in my ears. They were little quivers of anticipation, waiting for that final bit of release. Waiting for the small death to linger in our bodies.
But there was no death that was small. Even in orgasm.
I could feel his cock swell inside me. My ass rode it faster, harder. I wanted to milk every drop of cum he had in him. His hands grabbed my hips, firmly holding me down. I could feel his own hips ramming into me, pumping his orgasm into my tight ass and filing me.
Soon after I shot my load onto his belly. My cum was sent flying across his body, hitting his chest and face. Before he pulled out, he made one last pump into me to ensure the last drop was shot, then let me go.
“Fuck,” he forced out.
“I take it you enjoyed yourself, pup?” I said teasingly. His whole body relaxed against me as he nodded. “Good. It’s a shame I have to kill you,” I said as I grabbed the lamp behind him and slammed it over his head. Glass went everywhere, but it knocked him out.
I went into the kitchen to brew some coffee. It was going to be a long night.
***
The pandemic started like they did in the movies. Like it had years ago when we were forced to stay in our homes. It starts with one and then it spreads. It oozes quickly from person to person touching whoever is in its path. There’s never much news coverage at the start. Your leadership tells you not to worry. It’s all hell. It’s all hell crawling in our streets. And the moment it becomes big enough to matter, it’s too late.
Gerald and I first heard about it when our neighbor Erik fell ill. We heard him one night, growling, screaming. His wife Zelda screamed when she found him. I remember the moon was bright that night. Upon first glance it looked as if it were closer to the earth than normal. Maybe that was its trick, or maybe it was getting close. It’s tough to say.
We all walked out of our homes as the screams got louder. I remember hearing police sirens in the distance, but they were too late. Chaos had erupted in their home, glass breaking, thunderous crashing; every bit of war was hidden behind their home.
I couldn’t pinpoint it, but when I saw the infected bearded dragon jumping across a room from the window, I didn’t see any life in him. He moved, but his eyes were dead in that quick moment. Then Zelda appeared. “Stop it. Stop it!” I heard her cry. Her slender feline body stood stiff; though it was dark outside, you could see their fur stand tall in the shadows. The ocean blue cat was an aquarium of fear as we all stood waiting for the moment of their death. We all could tell what was going to happen, and although we watched, none of us went to save them. At least not at first.
The sirens were still so far away. Like a silent knife cutting through my chest, I heard the words come out of Gerald’s mouth. “I’m going in, Tim,” my orange rodent said while hugging me. I could feel his fur standing on edge, too, as if he questioned his decision, but he was all in the moment the words came out of his mouth.
“Don’t get yourself killed,” I responded, staring him down, his plump body. His fur showed bright in the darkness. As if this neon Cheeto arrived to save the day, only what danger lay ahead we didn’t know. I felt my arms cross, holding myself, afraid of what was going to happen. My fingers played with the crimson of my fur.
“What’s going on, stoat? What’s your idiot boyfriend doing?” I turned briefly and glared.
“Fuck off, Cordelia. At least someone is doing something. The police are far off, and Zelda is going to die if we don’t do anything,” I spat out as quickly as I could. I was a barrage of words spewing anything that came out. I didn’t have time to think. My husband was in there, and here I was waiting for him to return. As if I were waiting for a war to be over, as if I had been waiting for years. It’s fucked how time is relevant that way. Some days it was years, others it was moments. Fuck time.
I watched him enter the home, kicking through the door as if he were the next action hero. When the door closed, I wondered if he would return or if he would die in that house. My eyes diverted back to Zelda, who had run away from the window. I heard her scream. I had never heard anything like that before. It came out strong, but the moment we saw the bearded dragon jump onto something, the scream faded as if getting further away from us. I saw this green creature slashing, ripping, elbows flailing wildly. I started to make my way to their window; I wanted to see if Zelda was gone, if she had left this world and was lying dead on the floor. Before I could make it, something was thrown. It took me a moment to see it, but when I realized what lay before me, dread crawled up my body.
Zelda’s hand landed stiffly on grass, a little drop of blue amongst a sea of green. I always thought of her body like an ocean, her blue fur shining bright underneath the sun. And the moment I saw her hand lying before me, I realized it was like seeing a small puddle of water with blood oozing from its edges. Nobody ever told you how quickly the color faded from your body when you passed.
“Gerald!” I shouted, hoping he’d hear me, but I was too late. I saw him burst into the room and when he saw Zelda’s body on the floor, he almost vomited. Taking little time, he jumped onto Erik and started to pull him away from the body, but the green beast struggled. I saw the orange rodent punch the beast in the side, hoping to subdue him, but it only made the dragon fight more. In that same instance, Erik bit hard into Gerald’s arm.
Screaming, the rodent pushed Erik away, and tried escaping through the door. The police were arriving; I could see their sirens light up our neighborhood like red and blue flames enveloping us all. Gerald ran from the front door, hands in the air. The police were nervous; I heard one gunshot and he was on the ground. I saw blood spew from his shoulder as the bullet grazed him. My love fell to his knees, hands still raised.
“Get the fuck down!” an officer yelled. “You fuckin’ filthy rat!” I saw one man run up to my husband, gun pointed directly at his head. I knew if he were to shoot, Gerald would be dead; I knew that cop was out for blood. I imagined the life leaving his body as the officer zoomed in. I imagined a rough wind blowing through all of us; I imagined his body falling to the floor. And I imagined our home. Empty.
Before the officer could reach him, the beast appeared, grunting and groaning wildly. Drool slung from his mouth with every movement. He was very feral; I’d never known him to be that violent. It was almost like he wasn’t in the body before us. As if this body was possessed and whatever piece of Erik might be in there was gone. No, that was not the bearded dragon our neighborhood knew. It was an angry shell. A shell that had burst and was creating carnage for us.
He ran from his porch and jumped onto Gerald. I watched the monster take a large bite into the rodent’s neck. His screams pierced my gut and I tried to run to save him, but our neighbors held me back. I was fighting a mosh pit, fighting a sea of arms trying to reach the one person that mattered more to me and they were all keeping me from him.
That’s when the police fired again, this time killing the beast that was attacking my partner. More sirens rang in the distance. An ambulance finally appeared. We watched as men in uniforms burst through the house, while others led Gerald to the first available medic. I started pushing through the crowd. I couldn’t stay away from him any longer. I needed to be with him, needed to be by his side. I remember tears running down as I saw how bad the bite was, and as I approached, I heard him saying, “I don’t need a hospital. Stitch me up. Just stitch me up and I’ll sleep it off.”
“Gerald!” I yelled as I ran to his side. “Fuck, why did you do that?”
“Someone needed to help her. I may have been too late, but someone still needed to step in.” He was breathing heavy. I could see exhaustion flowing through his body. The hue of Gerald’s fur faded; it was no longer the bright orange you could see in the dark. He was merely an example of what it once was. I didn’t know what would happen when we went home, but I feared for our future.
***
“What the fuck!” Well, that didn’t take long. The garage was at least somewhat soundproof, so any light screaming would be muffled. I didn’t worry too much. Any loud screams would be ignored. No one there wanted to help someone attacked by an infected. “Yo, what is going on? I thought I was gonna fuck, not get murdered.”
He lay on a metal table, arms and legs strapped firmly to the surface. He wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.
“Murder is a rather mild way of putting it. You’re a cop. You should at least know that,” I said, pulling a set of latex gloves over my red fur. I always hated how it pulled, yet loved how they look. Some had to suffer for a good image. I ran my hands along the dalmatian’s leg.
“Where the fuck are my clothes?” I loved how he trembled beneath my touch. There was nothing that got me harder than the smell of fear pouring from a cop’s body. It was a sweet smell, a smell of musk and his shitty cologne. His breath was rushing; the alcohol was still pouring into my nostrils as he lay there. I brushed my hand up to his knee, then grabbed it firmly.
“In the trash.” I stepped away for a moment, grabbing a powered hand saw, then returned swiftly, positioning it right above the dalmatian’s right knee cap.
“What the fuck are you doing!” He was struggling now; his body thrashed against the table as I turned on the saw. His screams were wild then, as he did everything to get away, but there was nowhere to go. Not then, not ever. Not for him. I took my saw and smashed him in the face with the handle, then went back to his knee.
“Don’t fuckin’ move,” I shouted, digging the blade into his flesh and turning it on. Blood splattered immediately as I tore through his fur and flesh down to his bone. Though the bones were the toughest part, the saw would still cut through. It always took a little more elbow grease than I liked.
I couldn’t imagine the pain that was surging through his body, but I did sympathize slightly. I mean, if I were being sliced apart, I’d be screaming and crying like a bitch, too! I continued to saw through the dalmatian, even with the bone providing heavy resistance. It slowed down considerably, but all good things came with hard work. His screams were rapturous, slamming hard against the walls. His body started to thrash about again, shaking the table. Though he was bound tight, I worried the straps would loosen, so I took the saw’s handle and smashed him in the face with it again. I pushed his head down, grabbed one final strap and wrapped it across his forehead. I said nothing to the man in my home. I started the saw and went back to work, inching my way through the bone. I could feel the end of it coming close; it just needed a few lovingly helpful pushes.
With a crack and a push, the saw went through. The leg, although tough, severed beautifully; I sat back and stared at the work before me. I pulled a cigarette off my work bench and lit it up. The moment the nicotine hit me, I was in heaven. It was that wave of sinful numbness I needed to push further. I looked down at the blood on my body, on my hands, on the saw. It was a sight I was accustomed to lately.
His sobs filled the garage. I let my eyes wander over to the dalmatian I’d brought home. I pitied him, but a part of me loved what I was doing. If I ever came to a point where I needed to stop, I wasn’t sure if I could. Although it was fucked, I’d finally reached that point of deviancy that was hard to pull out of myself.
“W-why are you d-d-d-doing this?” I heard him burst out.
I didn’t know what to tell him at first. I didn’t know if I was ready to tell anyone that I loved doing what I do, or that it hadn’t started out like this. Where does one begin? Murder was such a complicated matter, anyways. It wasn’t a linear crime. There was always intent behind it. For some, self-defense, survival. For others, anger. And for the little percentage out there, fun.
I sighed, breath heavy with smoke as I pushed it out from my body. “Because I loved him. Still love him.”
***
When we made it home from the incident, my first thought was to send the rodent to bed. I was a tad angry with him for not going to the hospital in the first place; the least Gerald could do was to get his ass in bed and sleep through the pain. My heart was heavy with worry.
“I really think you should go,” I spoke out, though I knew he’d resist.
“I’m fine. I just had a bite. People bite each other all the time!” he responded, hands spread out as if to say “what’s the big fuckin’ deal?”
“I don’t think that’s the logic you should use for a wound that looks legit fucked up,” I was quick to retort, but still he wasn’t having it.
“Listen, I’m fine. If it gets bad tomorrow, I’ll go. But tonight? I just want to rest and maybe, if you’ll indulge, a piece of that tail.” I could never say not to his grin. The moment that smile trailed across his face, I was gone. I rolled my eyes and sighed heavily.
“You’re going to be the death of me, rat,” I said moving closer to him, my hands rubbing along his torso. “Let’s get you up to bed.”
We didn’t know anything when the virus hit. I led him up our stairs and into our bedroom. I knew he’d be stiff, so I was gentle when I kissed his neck. My tongue ran across unbitten orange fur down his chest, his belly, only to return upward to his nipple. I felt his hands move to his crotch, unzipping his jeans open. He didn’t say anything as I pushed him onto the bed. Before I jumped on him, I noticed some of his fur in my hands, but I thought little of it, figuring it was stress from the bite mark. I crawled on top of him, my shorts sliding to the wayside as I positioned myself. As I slid down his shaft, I started to notice the color of his fur lose more of its brightness. Still assuming it was from his incident, I continued to ride him. Slowly at first. It had been awhile since we’d fucked. Though the passion was never lost to us, life did make sex a secondary part of our relationship. When his cock entered me, I had almost forgotten how it felt. How thick he was, where he curved; it was as if I was relearning territory already traveled.
I heard him grunt, his hands sliding hard down my back, then falling away from me. He started to feel stiff beneath me, my fingers pushing into his flesh only to be met with a stern wall.
“Don’t stop,” he whispered, his moans turning into struggled grunts as I rode faster, my own member flopping onto his belly each time I slid down.
“I’ve missed this.” The words flew from my lips, my eyes closed; I savored every minute spent in that darkened abyss with him.
“So h-have—” His words trailed off in the darkness. His grunts got louder. I could feel everything stiffen beneath me. The faster I rode, the closer I got to my orgasm, the more he was undergoing some change in this darkness.
My body moved as fast as it could as my orgasm reached its peak. I moaned wildly as I felt myself shoot a load onto my lover’s belly. The air was still when we finished. Though he had not orgasmed, his body felt looser than ever, as if he were a plush toy and I the puppeteer moving him. I leaned in to kiss his cheek, but the more I listened to the silence, the more I realized. He wasn’t breathing anymore. I didn’t know when he’d stopped, but he wasn’t breathing then. I turned the lights on, dreading what I was about to find in our darkened room. It took a moment for everything to adjust, then I saw him. The orange nearly flushed, as if it was rotten fruit decaying every minute it was out of the earth. The man I knew as Gerald was dead. I couldn’t process what was before me. I couldn’t understand that his body was lifeless. I started shaking him, screaming his name. Tears ran down from my eyes as I slapped his face. I tried everything, anything to make that man wake up, tell me it was a joke, tell me I was crazy.
But he didn’t wake up. He didn’t move.
I left the room in tears. What else was I to do? I needed to start calling people. Needed to start making arrangements. I needed just to move. It was a wrenching pain that resided inside me. I sobbed, the wails of my cries overtaking our home. He was just so lifeless. So…dead. It wasn’t like how you saw them in the movies. They weren’t peaceful when they die. They didn’t always look that way. He just lay there on the bed and all I could do was analyze how dead he looked.
I left the room and ventured into the kitchen. I started the flame on the stove and put a pot of tea on. I remember thinking it was going to be a long night. I didn’t want to call anyone at that point. I just wanted to sit in silence. I just wanted to collect myself. I set my phone aside and sat down at our kitchen table, my mug already holding a tea back. I sat there under the dim light that hung above and just stared down the hallway. It had never felt so empty before. That whole house had never felt that way. But that night everything was empty.
The air was so still around me that the kettle sent a shiver through my body as it started to whistle. I rubbed my paws over my eyes and went to go pour the water. When I returned, I sat down, took a sip, then stared down the hall again.
My heart dropped when I saw him. He was standing there, frothing, eyes staring right back at me. Only the eyes didn’t seem alive. They seemed dead. His breathing was guttural, each breath a raspy blast of air. I wanted to say something, anything to break the air, but I stayed silent. Though Gerald was before me, I had never seen him this mad before. I had to refrain myself from running into his arms.
We were dueling at this point. Waiting to see who would break the silence first. Who would be the first to move. I knew if I did, he would catch me. He could catch me and kill me like Zelda was killed. Whatever he had, I knew it was from the bite.
But Gerald wouldn’t wait anymore. He bolted down the hall and right for me. I ran to the side, into our living room, expecting he would almost crash through the window. And he did. He hit the table and I ran down the hall. Although not my brightest idea, I bolted down the stairs to the basement, tripping midway. My ankle felt sprained, but I didn’t have time. I started to crawl, tried to lift myself up, then I saw him. He stood tall at the top of the stairs, the light making him more shadow than monster in my home. He ran down them like I did, stumbling down midway. In some ways we were a lot alike, and this was one of the ways I felt fortunate about.
I jumped out of the way, finally coming to my feet as I ran further into the basement. We had a section blocked off with a cage. We liked to get kinky. And though I wished that was a time I was being locked up, I stepped into the area. I waited for him to run in with me. Waited to trap him in. The bars were sturdy. I ensured they wouldn’t break under pressure as I wanted the real feel of steel in our home.
He bolted up, ankle split sideways. The rodent hobbled fast towards me, arms shoved out as in preparation to grab me. But he wasn’t going to grab anything. The moment he walked past the gate, I pushed him away as his hands grabbed my arms. He bit at me, but missed each time. I pushed him again this time, forcing him to let go. He went for me again. I tried to kick him, but he jumped onto me, pinning me down. His spit spewed all over my face and body. I tried to keep my mouth closed; I didn’t want any of it inside me. I struggled, punching him in the face, kneeing him in the balls, anything to get him the fuck off of me. But he wasn’t letting up. He kept biting down and missing. He went for my neck, my chest, anything he could see to get ahold of, but his teeth just weren’t grabbing. I counted myself fortunate. I did a final hail Mary and sent my head up into his, causing him to fly back off of me.
I picked myself up and he started running for me again. I ran toward him, pushing him to the back of the cage. I took his head and slammed it hard into the wall, which made him disoriented. He hobbled to the side, unable to keep his balance, and I ran for the gate door. I slammed it shut and locked it. He wouldn’t be getting out any time soon.
***
He was still sniveling on the table. I dropped the last of my cigarette on the floor and stomped it out. “Don’t fuckin’ move,” I said as I grabbed the leg I’d just cut off and took it with me into my home. The air was still much like the night Gerald turned, but it was always still when I did that. I walked down the hall and to the basement door. Taking one deep breath, I opened the door and started to descend the stairs. It fuckin’ stunk down here. God, it was horrible, but I guessed the dead still rotted. Pinesol would not make that any better. I knew the leg was dripping with blood, but decided I’d clean it up later. I wasn’t going to have visitors any time soon.
I could hear him growling. It pained me each time to hear the guttural noises emitting from his mouth. The moment I reached the bottom stairs, I turned on the lights. I always hated how they put the switch at the bottom. Some people liked to see as they go down, but I guess the developer was like “nope, you gotta learn the hard way, fucker.”
Gerald was looking worse. Bits of his flesh and fur were gone. They rotted away like nobody’s business. I wanted to try and embalm him, but I didn’t want to kill him, nor would he let me get close enough to do it. The other day, his cock fell to the floor and I reached in and grabbed it fast. It was in the cooler as I worked out how to make use of it.
His intestines were hanging out of his belly. He’d ripped it open one day running against the bars. They trailed to the floor like tentacles. Only I couldn’t get fucked by them. He was a mess of a rat. At least I didn’t have to worry about clothes. The bastard didn’t have any on. God, he fuckin’ smelled. Some days I wondered how I could love something like that, but he was good once. He was decent. Maybe he’d come back one day. Some days I believed this would all go away and he’d return as if we were together. Wishful thinkin’, right? I supposed it also helped that I’d enjoyed the taste of murder, too.
He was aggressive the moment I tried to open the door. I pushed it back hard and hit him, then threw the leg at him. He didn’t miss a beat. I heard his teeth gnawing into the bone. I didn’t want to watch him eat it, but I could hear the blood splatter as he ripped a bit of flesh out.
I ascended the stairs. Although I still loved him, the line between love and the joy of killing were blurring for me. The moment I went back up there, I was going to chop up the Dalmatian on my table. God, he’d been a good fuck. I should probably take his cock and put it with Gerald’s. At least I’d get some “me” time out of it.
The moment I started sawing into the Dalmatian, I knew I was going to love it. I was gonna love hearing him scream, hearing him beg, hearing him offer me everything under the sun. But the sun had given me that, the taste of blood, and boy did I love it. My first kill was exhilarating, to say the least.
The Niblock’s boy up the street had just turned nineteen. Though the police banded together to find him, they never found his body. Nor his phone, nor any trace of him. It was interesting how cops all banded together, even when their kids were involved, yet they still didn’t have a problem with murdering the rest of civilians. Well, the little cat didn’t know what he was getting into when he messaged me on Murr. But it didn’t matter, I still had some fun with him before feeding the boy to Gerald.
Then there was the cop who put the bullet in my Gerald’s body. The one who almost killed him, who would have killed him if he hadn’t been stopped. God, I hated them fuckers. One of the few times I topped a bitch was ‘cause I didn’t want that German shepherd cock inside me. Fuck the police. I fed him to Gerald so quick. His cop buddies still didn’t know.
How time flew. I walked back to the garage to find the lights off. Immediately, I knew he was gone. I knew the bindings were wearing quickly. Just what I got for buying fake leather. I walked into the darkness, turning the lights on when I found the switch. As I suspected, he was gone. I moved further in, looking around. I started to follow the trail of blood he left behind. Stupid dog, I thought. His leg was gone; he couldn’t move far. Smirking, I started to sing, “Where, oh where has my little dog gone? Oh where, oh where could he be?” until I stopped in front of a large freezer. The trail ended there. It was large enough to hold a body. Large enough to hide in. I was certain he was in there. I put my hands on the lid and pulled it open. But nothing was there. “What the fu—” I was tackled before I could finish. Where he was hiding, I wasn’t sure, but this bitch was going to get a slow death. I knew that.
He pinned me to the ground and screamed into my face. “Oh puppy, you shouldn’t be up. You’re already losing a lot of blood,” I said, looking at the trail on the floor. I went up and bit him hard in the face, ripping a chunk of his cheek. I spit it back at him. He couldn’t hold me after that; his hands went for his face and I headbutted him off of me. I grabbed my meat cleaver from the workbench and slammed it hard into his head. I rammed it again, and again, blood spewing everywhere. His face was splitting apart with each swing. I could almost see his brain as I continued to chop him open. “Fucking bitch,” I grunted out, only then realizing he was dead.
I sat back, breathing heavily after exerting myself. It was like I had just orgasmed a fourth time that night. I let my breath catch up. Let it calm my body, then lifted the bitch onto the table. I pulled out a clipboard of names. All his little partners. I crossed Officer Jones’ name off my list and set it aside. I wondered for a moment who I would find next, but pushed the thought away. There was a time to make plans, but not that night. I brushed my hand along his body, preparing to carve the rest of him up. I didn’t need to strap him in. I just needed to get started. Gerald wouldn’t be hungry again soon.