Oh God, there was so much blood. It was everywhere and it just kept coming. Seeing her life drain into the carpet made me feel calm, relaxed. Like I was at the end of a terrible storm and now was the calm. I watched the carpet drink her life with apparent delight, a sick thought came to my mind. I took my index finger, dipped it into the crimson pool and gently put it my lips. The metallic taste hit the back of my throat and it felt so good my knees shook. She tastes better dead than she ever did alive.
Something had to be done with the body. If I left it here the stench would bring the neighbors. Being left to rot on your own is a terrible way to go but I hated the woman enough to do it. I made my way around the room and wiped down any surfaces that I might have touched any time I was ever in there. Looking around, I realised that i’d been there a lot. I touched her door when I opened it for her, doing my best to impress her with how much of a gentleman I am. I’d put so much time and effort into being a perfect gentleman to her and it worked. She swallowed that chivalrous shit up like she had a straw to her mouth. Being able to manipulate a person so easily made me intensely euphoric. My prints were bedside drawer as well from reaching in to grab a condom and there had to be a massive palm print on the window as well from that time when we did up against the window, getting off on the idea of people down on the street looking up and seeing us. She was such naughty girl. I’d miss how wild she coukd get and maybe even her terrible singing too.
The bitch lay on her back (her favourite position if I remember correctly) with the kitchen blade still buried in her chest, a glassy expression in her eyes that made her look ditzy. I’d hoped that leaving it there would make her die slower but alas, she barely had enough time to drown in her own blood before her heart gave out.
I feel no remorse. She deserved this. Who the hell did she think she was messing with? Did she really think I would just stand idly by and let her ruin my life? Some people think that they can do whatever they like and get away with it. Some people…but not her.
Still the rage burned inside me. Everything around me looked red and ready t be destroyed. Yes, I’d taken her life but I still didn’t feel like I’d gotten my revenge.
I reached down over her, clasped the handle of the knife and pulled it out of her chest. I couldn’t resist licking the blade. If I’d known she tastes this good dead I would have killed the bitch time ago.
Alarms going off in my head told me that it was time to leave but I wasn’t done punishing her yet. I grabbed her foot and started cutting into the flesh at the place where ankle meets foot. Sweetheart, I hope you like wall art.
The following is an extract from a local newspaper clipping.
Yesterday, Yorkshire police forced their way into a one bedroom flat after neighbours reported the smell of death and decay. Inside they found the dismembered remains of a woman super-glued to the walls and roof like some kind of collage. In all the police recovered close to twenty pieces of the woman however it is believed that one piece, the ring finger on her left hand, is yet to be found.
SIDE NOTE- To any police, prosecuters, judges or (God forbid) jurors who should so happen to be reading this; it’s called poetic license.