Slaughter Me

Great job, Kirahh! This is seriously good work (that probably shouldn't be read at 10:03 at night, like I did). Anyway, I did wonder about the "high school" part. You mentioned that they were lovers since high school, yet it seemed that this story took place long before high schools existed. Other than that, great work! Keep it up!
P.S. My name is Kira in real life!

Amazing! I was completely hooked and i totally loved it! The end was really clever, and so was the explanation of what was actually going on. Really great stuff. After your other work that i reviewed, and this, i am seriously impressed and totally wow-ed. Awesome stuff. Keep writing! I can't WAIT to read more of your work!!

Although I am a long-time writer (since 2000) short stories are a relatively new genre to me and I have only dabbled in them very birefly. Sometimes writers will produce gold and it will make me think - hey, perhaps I should be spending MORE time reading these short stories - and this story of yours is one of those! I really enjoyed reading your story. You had some great grammar and spelling after taking a quick read - something not many writers have these days as they assume that the computer will fix all errors. Good luck in your future writing and I hope to read more from you!

I once loved a man named James.

James was a writer, a poet, and an unknown composer.

He was quite an eye catcher, also. We were lovers since high school. As soon as we graduated, he asked for my hand in marriage.

I always thought James was the one for me. I thought I would spend all eternity with him. That thought still lasts in my mind and it forever will, even after the tragic day.

The day James lost himself, and I lost my life.



James

I sat in my study, working on yet another masterpiece. Carmen was going to love this one, even though she wasn’t crazy about the others.

My pen hastily scribbled words on the scratchy old paper; fantastic words, magnificent words. Words that would change our lives forever.

“This book will surely sell.” I murmured to myself, smiling with delight.

“James, are you still in the study?” Carmen knocked on the door. I gripped the pen, unable to put it down. I can’t put it down.

“Just...just hold on a second.” I called back.

I never allowed Carmen to view my study. My study was a clandestine place for me, my stories, and my mind.

I remembered the day she tried to open the oak door. The day I forgot to lock it before I went out to buy more tea. When I came home, I saw her hand on the handle, trying to peek through the crack.

What did I do to her, you might ask? I kept her in the freezer until she begged for mercy.

Bad girls need to be punished.

After Carmen served me dinner and I kissed her soft lips until she slept, I made my way back into my inner sanctum.

The door was open ajar. I swore to myself that I locked it before dinner time.

I touched the old oak door, feeling an abnormal chill pass from the door to my fingers, making goose bumps rise against my arms.

I retrieved my fingers quickly, my eyes sliding down to the floor, catching the pool of roses and dead leaves I was stepping on.

Someone was in my study.

I pulled out the blade that I hid on my pants waistline, gripping it in my sweaty hands as I swung the door open.

I was expecting to actually plunge the blade into someone, but instead I found nothing. Everything seemed to be in place.

Everything except for the masterpiece I was writing.

In its place was a note, smelling strong of rosemary and lilies.

I have your precious story. Come and find me in the depths of the Black Forest.

I looked out the window, staring at the Black Forest right next to my home. So the thief was inviting me to get my story back?

I slid on my shoes, trying not to make a sound as I slipped out of my house, grasping the blade. I will stop at nothing to get it back.

The forest was so dark I had to use a lantern to see my way through. They didn’t call it Black Forest for nothing.

“Hey!” I called out, my voice echoing, bouncing off the tall trees. “Hey! Grant me my work!”

In the darkness, I heard a seductive giggle. The giggle turned into exquisite singing. I started to sway on my feet.

“Follow my voice, artist.” She sang. And so I did.

My feet felt light, and I felt like as if I was floating on a cloud. The world tilted to one side and I found myself stumbling. I stumbled into the arms of a gorgeous woman.

The woman rests me on her lap, and I looked up hopelessly at her.

“My work...” I said. “Present me my work.” The woman just smiled at me, running her fingers through my short hair, sending it in spikes.

“Give me your life and dedication, artist.” She whispered. “I want your love.”

I swallowed, feeling dizzy with lust. This mysterious woman wants me, and seeing how beautiful she is, I want her too.

I found myself lifting my fingers, burying them in her long blonde hair.

“You can have it,” I said hoarsely. “You can have everything.”

The woman smiled and leaned in. I expected her to kiss me, but instead she stopped a few inches away from my lips.

“Then get rid of her.” She whispered. “Get rid of her so we can be together.”

Part 2

James

I dragged the blade on the drywall, leaving a jagged trail in my wake. I walked slowly to the sleeping Carmen in the bed, a malicious grin planted on my face. Once she was dead I’ll be able to be with Iona, the beautiful lady I met in the forest.

I pushed the door to the bedroom open slowly and tip-toed quietly to the side of the bed. I watched the rise and fall of Carmen’s chest, a faint smile upon her lips as if dreaming of something wonderful.

I couldn’t wait to turn that dream into a nightmare.

Her curly dark brown hair was spread out on the entire pillow, surrounding her head like a sun. It also kind of reminded me of Medusa.

Carmen’s eyes fluttered open, meeting my crazed ones. She smiled, obviously not spotting the blade yet.

“James, I was waiting for you to come to bed. I was almost worried.” I took the blade and ran it along her cheek, sending a light trail of blood. Her body went rigid.

“Not to worry, my dear. Everything is fine.”

“J-James—“

“Shh, don’t speak.” I kept the blade at her throat as I leaned down and kissed her lips. She didn’t kiss back, so I pressed the blade against her skin until she did.

I smiled as I made love to her for the last time.

I opened my eyes to the morning birds singing. I sighed, putting my hands behind my head and looked out the window.

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the trees of the Black Forest were waving in the breeze.

Even though the scenery was the same as every morning, there was something else profoundly unusual.

Starting with that smell.

I usually woke up to the smell of scrambled eggs and strong coffee, but there was no trace of that. The replacement was the smell of decay.

I coughed, my face twisting in disgust.

“Carmen?” I called as my eyes slid to where she usually slept next to me. “Carmen what is that—“

I stopped short. The sight I saw would torture every child’s dream. The sight I saw would change your life forever.

My Carmen laid beside me, naked, with red, thick, blood all over her body. There was a big gash running across her throat and a giant hole in the middle of her stomach. Her intestines and organs spilled out of her, falling on the bed, oozing blood. Her beautiful eyes were gauged out of her head. They stared back at me on the nightstand. Her once pink lips were now smeared blue. Her lush skin was now pale as milk.

I bent over and vomited chunks that I never remembered eating.

“Carmen?” I asked her. I put my hands on her cheeks, tears spilling out of my eyes and landing into her empty sockets.

“Carmen, please...” I begged for her to wake up, as if there was a chance. Someone had slaughtered my love.

Vivid flashbacks of the night before played in my mind. The story. The forest. Iona singing to me.

I remembered loving Carmen. I remembered the tears in her eyes. I remembered the bloody knife in my hand as I stabbed and stabbed and stabbed.

Oh my God. I slaughtered her.

I stared at my hands which were covered in her blood. My vision was blurry by my tears. They seeped into my mouth, salty and full of remorse.

I heard the laughter of children from outside. They knocked on my door, their squeaky voices calling,

“Mr. James? We have your paper!” I sucked in a quick breath as I glanced at Carmen. I had to get her body out of here.

I got out of the stained bed and grabbed some clothes on. I stared at Carmen’s deformed body, thinking of what to do.

I wrapped up her body, nearly vomiting again when I felt the squishiness of her organs.

I tied the sheets with rope so that it stayed securely on her. I took the body and dragged it out of the room.

“I’m so sorry, my love.” I whispered as I struggled to get her to the cold room. “I am so, terribly, sorry. I pray that you may forgive me.”

I finally made it to the cold room. As soon as I opened the door I was greeted with cool wind. I dragged the body in, opening the freezer. I unwrapped Carmen’s head and kissed her blue lips before I dumped her into the freezer.

I shut the freezer door and vacated the cold room, locking the door before running out the house.



Part 3

Oh, the marvellous irony!

The killer in remorse for his own actions. Where is “Iona” now, James?

You killed the only woman that ever truly loved you.

I hope you burn in the depths of hell.



James

I stood outside the bar with my fiddle, my case open, hoping that people will be considerate enough to drop some money for my train fair. I was going to escape from this dreaded town. I was going to leave my sins behind.

I played a fast jig as some nearby children ran up to me, dancing in circles. I tapped my feet and smiled. Their parents smiled gently at me as they dropped a few coins in my case. I tipped my hat in thanks.

As soon as I thought that I had enough, I collected the money and put it in my pocket. I was about to place my fiddle into the case until someone dropped a coin in it.

“Excuse me but—“My mouth hung open when I saw the owner of that coin. I swallowed.

“C-Carmen?” I whispered.

It was indeed her. She stood in the blood soaked sheets, her arms released and her head uncovered. She swayed in her spot, staring at me with empty sockets. And she opened her mouth and screamed, spitting blood on my face.

My eyes widened. I hurried and packed up my fiddle, willing my feet to move faster as I ran out of the town.

I ran and ran until I entered a destination unknown. I panted, my eyes darting frantically here and there. Good, she was gone.

I made myself believe that it was just my imagination. I made myself believe that the deceased Carmen did not just stand in front of me.

I told myself this as I wiped her blood off my face.

“James? Is that you?” I shot to my feet, holding the blade. I killed her once, I wasn’t afraid to kill her again.

Instead of Carmen, Iona emerged from the trees. She wore a light long white dress which tailed her on the floor. Her blonde hair blew in the wind.

I fell to my knees, tears spilling out of my eyes.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” I whispered. Iona stopped in front of me, a long piece of rope in her hand.

And then, right before my eyes, she morphed.

She morphed right into Carmen.

Carmen’s empty sockets glared at me, her skin and lips blue from the frost. I took her freezing hand.

“Forgive me,” I said. “Please, forgive me.”

She wrapped the rope around my neck.

“Little James took an axe and gave his wife 40 whacks...” She sang the old rhyme, replacing the actual words with my sin. The tears came harder.

“When she saw what he had done she came and gave him 41.” She forced me to stand up and guided me through the forest to an open field.

In the field was a barrel under a tree. There was a crowd.

Oh my God, a crowd of the dead.

The moaned and groaned, some of them missing limbs, some of them headless completely.

Carmen forced me to stand on the barrel as she tied the other end of the rope to the tree.

“Little James took an axe and gave his wife 40 whacks. When she saw what he had done she came and gave him 41.” The whole crowd sang it now, over and over again.

I couldn’t think of anything other than how my life would have been if I never listened to Iona. I would have sold that masterpiece. I would have gotten plenty of money for it, and Carmen and I would have moved out of this tedious town. We would move into the great city, buy a large house, have children, and I will continue to sell books. I will love her until the very end.

There was no changing the future now. It was clear to me that Carmen found no more hope for us.

She stood on her tip-toes and whispered in my ear.

“I’ll see you in hell.”

And then she kicked the barrel from under my feet.

I felt my life escape with my final breath.