Category : Stories

Sub Category : Horror

He was surprisingly calm when he woke on his 14th birthday he knew no presents would await him no cake nor candles to blow out. All that would be downstairs waiting would be his mother either comatose or far far down the road that led there. 
His manner was precise and exact as her retrieved his box from under the bed,he opened the lid and gazed upon the knives that lay on his journals. They were recent acquisitions and brand new razor sharp and ready to be used.
Both knives were exactly the same carbon steel Bowie Hunting knives with 10″ blades and Hardwood handles,he removed them from the box and ran his thumb along the blade edge ignoring the sharp pain that accompanied the trickle of blood that made its way slowly down his wrist. 

The dripping of blood droplets on the box lid sounded comforting to him and for maybe for a minute he listened to the melodic drips as if transfixed by both the sight and the sound. 

The blood formed a pool almost perfectly circular apart from on trickle that had abandoned the pool and meandered almost belligerently into the outer part of the lid. He sucked at the blood still oozing from his thumb and his eyes scanned the room for any item he could use to stem the flow,he settled on an old t-shirt adorned by the name of Nosferatu

He smiled at the irony of his choice.


After he had stemmed the blood and cleaned the circular pool that had gathered on the box lid including the belligerent trickle that had ran away from the main pool. Having cleaned up and deposited his now bloody shirt in the journal box he readied himself and opened the door. 

He knew what was to happen it had to happen he needed it to happen for him and his freedom,the fact it had to happen to his mother was of no concern to him.

He approached the living room door which was slightly ajar,he could see his mother on the cracked faded sofa he arms bare and white her legs were tucked in an almost foetal position,her legs wore the bruises and cuts of drunken aimless stumbling and dry blood was visible. 

She didn’t stir as he made his way silently across the room avoiding the numerous empty bottles and cans that littered the floor. He positioned himself at the end of the sofa directly behind his mothers head. As he drew the knife from its sheaf the blade shone illuminated by the sunlight that forced it’s way through the chink in the heavy curtains that hung with a sombreness that seemed somewhat appropriate.
He stood naked in control in complete control.

He grabbed his mothers forehead and turned it so her head rested on the sofa’s arm rest,her eyes opened startled suddenly alive no longer comatose no longer in restful drunken slumber,the blade flashed across her exposed throat and blood erupted from the wound spattering the ceiling and surrounding walls. 

His grip ensured no movement of her head was possible but her legs thrashed in a strange dance as if electrified,as the blood flowed he could see the colour drain from her face as life left her until the legs stopped and the blood slowed soaking both the sofa and her t-shirt which had turned dark crimson.

He rested on the armchair in the corner of the living room which was no longer a living room but a room for dieing. This appealed to him as he had never really lived but now in this room this place he felt alive. His breathing was slow and deliberate he felt no panic no fear. It had been done and he was pleased so very pleased.

He knew he had to dispose of the body and of course the sofa,and had planned for this in the meticulous way that was his nature. 

The sofa would be burned in the back yard under cover of the winter darkness so that particular problem was of no concern. The body itself presented different logistical and storage issues which he now began to address. Slowly easing the lifeless body from its position he began to cut the clothes from his mothers torso.

 The knife made short work of the meagre coverings she wore and soon it was before him naked and despite it being his mother he took strange fascination in the nakedness his eyes lingering on the breasts and pubic region before he moved his eyes slowly to the gaping wound in her throat. 

Blood had dried and pooled underneath where her head had lain. The cut was smooth and clean as he expected given the blades sharpness.
He had read medical books in the local library and had a fair idea of how to dismember a body and he had prepared the tools required namely two bone saws and of course the knives.

 He prepared a number of bin bags and rolled the body onto them so it was face down. He took one of his bone saws and started to cut just below the knee the saw made short work of muscle,tissue and bone and soon the limb was fully detached pieces of fleshy sinew hung from the upper leg. In all it took him around 2 hours to detach all he needed to,he neatly parcelled the 8 portions he had produced. 

He wrapped each one individually using extra bin bags and strong tape to ensure no blood escaped from the grisly packages. He completed the clean up by removing the bags the body had been laid on,he would burn them with the sofa.

The walls and ceiling still dripped blood and he decided it was wise to wait for it to dry before attempting to clean it,he used his bone saw to chop the blood soaked sofa taking care not to spread the blood around.


The darkness of winter had arrived and he transported the remnants of the sofa into the garden the blood covered bin bags nestled inside,as he was assembling the bonfire he felt eyes burning into his back he turned and spied his neighbour, Mr Raynes, observing him from his kitchen window.

” Hi Byron” he said

” Hello Mr Raynes I hope you don’t mind me burning my old sofa but the council charge so much to take it away” replied Byron

” Go ahead son no skin of my nose” continued Mr Raynes

“Thanks” Byron said in a nonchalant almost chirpy manner.

He lit the newspapers he had stuffed inside the sofa and watched as the flames took hold flicking orange and red in the dark winter sky,crackles sounded as wood splintered and burned forcing plumes of smoke into the night sky,the acrid smell of burning plastic and possibly blood filled the air its pungency almost overpowering.
 
Did blood actually smell when burnt he wondered as he watched the flames rise and the bonfire diminish into ashes.

When the fire had finished burning and all that was left was grey ashes and a few embers still gasping for the oxygen that fuelled them he turned his attention to the parcels that still sat in the living room. His idea was to dispose of them piece by piece in the bins he regularly scavenged from it felt good to give something back to the bins that had kept him alive so many times.

He knew the bins were emptied on Sunday mornings and had watched the refuse truck arrive many times it would just back up to the bin and the driver would get out of the cab press a button and the whole bin would be elevated and the contents would spew out into the cavernous hole that was waiting like a hungry chick awaiting food from its mother.

He would need to make two journeys taking four parcels at a time and decided to take the torso first along with the head and two arms. He packed the parts into his backpack which had been lined with more bin bags to minimise any blood flow on his journey.

He made both journeys without incident and sat and waited for the refuse truck to come and finish what he started. 

The truck arrived the beeping as it reversed woke him from his half sleep he watched as the bins he had chosen were lifted and emptied the clang as the contents struck the metal floor was mildly satisfying. 

He waited till the truck departed and made his way slowly home trying to check for any drops of blood that would lead to his front door in some strange Hansel & Gretel way.

As he arrived home he cleaned the now dried blood on the walls and ceiling and made a mental note to buy paint to go over the areas affected,he made sure the room was as it was before he entered and retired upstairs to his room.
He slept soundly that night and had none of the dreams that had plagued him before maybe he had exorcised them but then again maybe not..

The next day he got paint from the local DIY store and painted the still stained walls and ceiling,he ventured into the garden and raked the ashes of the long dead fire into the ground,little pieces of wood remained but they were of no consequence to him.

As he returned to his house he gave Mr Raynes a cheery wave as he stood in his kitchen peering out into his garden Mr Raynes acknowledged his wave with a smile and a nod of the head.

He stayed in for the rest of the week watching the news with increasing bravado as the death of his mother was not reported and no one had remarked on anything peculiar being found at the local council land fill site.

He rested he was sated for now but he knew this was just the beginning and more would follow it was fated it was destiny it was his CALLING…….


To be continued