Chapter 12 Ethan #2
The fat cunt grunts again and I snap my gaze towards him, brows furrowed.
His eyes meet mine, instantly the smell of piss; tart and acidic fills my senses.
I watch as the wet stain on the crotch of his pants begins to grow until it leaks out of his waistband and onto the pristine floor.
A dark shade of yellow, like aged orange juice puddles on the floor near my feet. I step away from the mess in disgust.
“Did you just piss on my floor?” I say with a sharp tone and my father tries to shake his head but the sedative keeps him slightly under my control. I’ll need to administer the paralytic before he becomes completely mobile again.
I snigger. “Regardless, there’s gonna be more than piss on this floor once I’m done with you.” The pathetic man before me mumbles something incoherent behind the tape. I suppose it’s only decent of me to grant him his last words before I take them away from him.
I pick the corner of the tape between my fingers before ripping it away from his face.
Stray hairs collect on the sticky side of the tape and he groans from the sharp pain, then blows out a few heavy breaths before opening his slack mouth to speak.
His words are dry and garbled. “You.. wretched.. fucking boy!”
Boy.
This waste of life still seems to think that I’m just a boy, a helpless child who cowered under his fists. I’m no longer a fucking boy. I’ll never be that boy ever again.
Anger like a rough sea swirls in my stomach.
It crushes my lungs in a vice grip until I’m struggling to breathe.
I grab a hold of his face in my hand and squeeze tightly until I’m sure I can hear the bones grinding and cracking under the skin and flesh, and like the pussy boy he is, he whimpers from the pain.
Leaning over, I bring my face to his. “Not so much of a boy now, am I?” I bite back like a rabid dog and he winces from the grip I have on his face, but it doesn’t stop him from speaking.
“I guess.. not, but you’re still.. a fucking freak.” He spits through his saliva coated lips. “That’s all.. you will ever be. A murderous.. freak.”
That one word bounces around my skull like a brick in a washing machine. It smashes against my brain and I have to gather myself for a moment before I explode. Inhaling sharply through my nose, I shove his sharp words into the back of mind and bring myself back into the present.
A snigger slips past my lips. “A freak? Is that all you got, old man? I guess you were always a pussy when it came to words, weren’t you?
Always rambling on with yourself, but never making true on them.
” I bring myself closer now, just so he doesn’t have the chance to look away from me.
“In fact, I’m pretty sure your last threat was that I had to stay away from my sister, no? ”
My father’s resolve cracks for a moment at the mention of my sister but he quickly schools his features again. Shunning away the memory of her.
“What’s the matter, daddy’o? Not too keen on hearing about the way your daughter moaned my name when I ate her virgin cunt? Or the way that tight little pussy felt around my fingers. It’s a shame we were rudely interrupted, or else I would have had her calling me daddy instead.”
I give his face one last squeeze before shoving it away from me and rising back to my full height. Anger like I’ve never seen before from him, floods his face. His mottled cheeks become red with fury.
“It’s a shame you.. sent Alina to her death though, isn’t it, boy? You might as well have.. pushed her in front of that car yourself.” He says in a malicious tone, causing me to grind my teeth together. “You pushed her to want you.. so much that you killed her instead. You murdered your–”
“Shut the fuck up!” I bark. “I didn’t kill Alina!”
“Oh, but you did.” He sniggers. “She’d still be alive, thriving at college, going out with her friends, maybe even having a boyfriend. Instead, she ended up mangled under a car.. because of you.”
Red clouds my vision and I move on autopilot.
Grabbing the syringe, I stab the needle into his jugular and inject the paralytic into his veins, then I lean over him again.
“Fuck you, old man. Maybe you should have kept a tighter leash on that collar you thought you had on me, because I always get what I want, especially Alina.”
His mouth begins to droop at the side as his body gives into the sedation.
“Oh, and before we start. I must inform you that the body you buried wasn't Alina. In fact, whilst I had my little stint in prison for a death I didn’t commit, I’ll have you know, I had people on the outside doing my dirty work.
” I snigger and watch with intent as he tries to pry his mouth open to say something.
“I had them swap Alina’s body for someone else, but you wouldn’t know that, considering she had a closed casket funeral. You’d be none the wiser would you, old man?”
I grip the collar of his stained shirt and lift him off the trolley slightly, then I speak with clear intent, making sure he can hear exactly everything I’m saying.
“My sweet, and not so innocent little sister, is right here. With me, in this mortuary. You lose again, dad. I’ll always have her now. ”
With that, I release his shirt and let him fall back onto the trolley with a thud. Then I get to work on ripping open his shirt and grabbing the scalpel.
Blood splashes onto my boots like spilled wine.
Drip after drip, it falls from the table.
It’s warm and rich against the gloves that cover my hands.
It’s heat emanating into my skin. I’ve already removed the kidney and the liver, they sit like thick slabs of meat in a butcher's shop in the metal dishes on the table. A green hue begins to cover the liver, like it’s been left out of the fridge for too long and I know if I sliced it open, a sour stench would hit me straight in the nose, like rotted eggs and day-old vomit in the bottom of a toilet.
I’ll give it to my dad for being a trooper through all of this.
The heart monitor, I hooked him up to beeps in perfect rhythm as it counts his heart rate.
If I’m being honest, I probably didn’t need it as I can watch with my own eyes, his black heart pumping underneath his rib cage that I’ve yet to splay open.
The meaty muscle swells and then retracts as it continues to pump blood throughout his body.
It probably won’t be able to hold out for much longer considering how much of my father’s blood is pissing out of him like a leaky pipe, but still, I made the effort to make sure he was still alive whilst I took a look at his rotten insides.
His fat blubbers around like jelly as I begin to cut away his intestines.
A quick knick of the scalpel and the meaty pipe comes away from the sinew with ease.
I wrap it around my hand like a hose pipe and begin to pull it out of his body, then place it in another metal dish alongside his liver and kidney.
“There goes your shit pipe.” I quip, knowing full well he can’t answer me back. He’s fully paralysed now, but he’ll be able to feel everything. Every slice of the scalpel, every tear of flesh and sinew. Every artery I pull at, he’ll feel it all, but he’ll never be able to voice that agony.
My father’s toxic body is mine, and his soul is locked in purgatory forever.
“You know..” I start, looking at my dad’s pale face.
His eyes move about rapidly in the sockets.
“I always thought I’d get a call in prison to let me know that you’d died, instead, it was to inform me of my mum’s passing instead.
An accident they said, that she had slipped and fell down the stairs, but that wasn’t the case was it?
” I say with a somber tone, my hands hovering over his full bladder.
“You pushed her, didn’t you?” I jab at his bladder with my finger. The thin sinew ripples under my touch like a water bed. “You pushed her so hard that she snapped her neck at the bottom of the stairs.” I jab again, harder this time.
I should feel sadness over my mother’s death but I’m finding it very hard to do so.
She had plenty of chances to escape my father’s clutches, to take me and Alina away from it all, but she never did.
She stood and watched as he beat me to a pulp.
Until bruises bloomed across my cheeks like deadly wildflowers.
She did nothing, the only other person who tended to me, was my little sister. And everything I do now, is for her.
The heart monitor begins to beep at a quicker pace now, the silky muscle rams against his rib bones like a trapped bird. I guess my words touched a nerve, or maybe it’s my fingers that keep poking them. Either way, my dad isn’t very happy with what I have to say.
Shame. It seems I couldn’t give a single fuck.
I check the clock on the wall, noting the time. Mr Wilson will clock in for his morning shift in a couple of hours and I need to have this fat sack of shit, stuffed with fluids into the cold storage, pronto.
Placing the scalpel down, I begin to bag and tag my father’s innards then I drop them into a hazardous waste bag for burning with the cremation I’ve got lined up in the morning.
I did say Nocturnal Mortuary doesn’t always stay on the right side of the law. Especially whilst I’m working here.
I can feel my dad’s beady gaze on me as I get to work on mixing the chemicals I need for embalming, a low hum comes from the machine as I flick on the switch, then before I dump the solution inside, I quickly slip on a surgical mask to protect my insides, then add the final chemical of formaldehyde into the mixture.
The pungent smell fills the room, and whilst that’s mixing I make quick work of stitching my dad’s torso back up.
The sharp, curved needle pierces the skin with ease. Like a knife slicing through butter. In and out it slips, pulling the black cord with it until it pulls his skin taut together. I finish the stitch at his clavicle, then snip the cord with a pair of scissors.
“How are you doin', old man? Ready for the final part?” I tease with a wicked grin on my face behind the mask, a darkness in my gaze.
Short bursts of air fire through his nose and I can see the fear and panic that’s flooding his face. His eyes well with unshed tears. Any normal person would feel a mountainous size of remorse for this horrific act, but I feel nothing and I’m no normal person.
I never have been, and I never will be.
Lifting my hand, I give him a quick pat on the shoulder then bring the machine over to the side of the bed and shove the metal straw-like tube into his side.
It takes a bit of force to get it through his fat, but once I’m in, the chemicals flow freely into his body.
Filling him up like a bulbous water balloon.
His empty gut begins to bloat with fluid, then it spreads into his arms and legs, turning him a funky shade of yellow.
All the while, this man is very much still alive.
Rapid beeping blares from the heart monitor and the green line jumps across the screen in quick succession. It won’t be long before he either has a heart attack or dies from chemical poisoning, either way, It’ll be a horrific death and one I’m glad to be a witness of.
Keeping my hand on the tube, I tilt my head to the side to witness the life leaving my father’s eyes.
“I’d tell you to say hello to my sister, but where you’re going, she would never be there, instead she’ll always be safe with me.
” I say in a low tone, then watch his heart rate flatline across the screen.
My whole family is dead.
But there’s only one person who can make me feel better. Who I can mold back into shape, who will love me forever.
And I know exactly where to find her.