Chapter 16
Charles
Then
God, I fucking hated this place.
It smelled like piss, and I always felt like the stench stuck to my clothes when I left.
I grabbed my lantern and went down the stairs of the narrow hatch underneath the floor of my uncle’s cabin.
The steps groaned as I descended into the small cellar. Rico sat in a wooden chair, his arms and legs tied, blindfolded. He was still asleep.
Good.
I loved waking them up. It was always the same spiel.
Where am I? Why are you doing this? Please don’t hurt me.
Boo fucking hoo.
They always found out sooner or later.
Celeste was mine and mine only. Rico was supposed to be a little dalliance and nothing more. But then he was always there. Always showing up with his flowers and whisking her off for weekend getaways.
The closer they became, the angrier I was. Then Celeste dared to say she loved him. As if I wasn’t right. Fucking. Here.
She would see me better if Rico wasn’t in the picture. I would make her see me.
I grabbed the medium-sized bucket I brought from the lake, filled it with water, and threw it on him ripping the blindfold off in the process.
He awoke with a shout, then a groan, presumably feeling the effects of the drug cocktail I gave him in order to get him here.
As his eyes fluttered open and I came into focus, his eyes widened in shock.
“Charles? What’s going on?” He stuttered out.
“Ch-ch-charles,” I mocked as I circled him.
“C’mon, man, this isn’t funny. This is some weird shit. Untie me!”
“Am I laughing?” I answered, squatting down to meet him at eye level.
His almond skin began to pale with fear. He started to wrestle with the rope binding him to the chair.
“Shh, my uncle will hear.” I chuckled.
He began to scream. I laughed on and on as he got louder and louder.
Deciding to let him in on the joke, I swung the lantern to the darkened corner of the cellar.
My uncle lay there decaying, looking a little more dead since I last saw him.
With that revelation, Rico’s screams came to a quivering halt.
My uncle was a good man, but he got a little too curious when I started spending more and more time up here. He decided to surprise me and may have caught me filleting a body, or two.
So here lies Uncle Al. Curiosity did indeed kill the cat.
I took out my favorite hunting knife, a Nestucca cleaver, from the holster I wore on my waist and pressed the tip to my thumb, watching as the blood prickled to the surface.
“Celeste will be sad when she stops hearing from you. But she’ll forget about you eventually. The good thing is I’ll be there to pick up the pieces.”
Rico wrestled with his bindings with renewed energy as I approached with the knife. “I’ll leave her alone, I won’t see her again. Just let me go.”
“Let you go? But we haven’t even started having fun yet?”
My hands moved swiftly as I brought the knife down on his wrist, severing his hand from his arm. I took in a deep breath, relishing the sounds of his screams.
“I’ve got plans for you Rico.” Picking up his severed hand, I walked over to the deep freezer where my uncle was wasting away, throwing the detached member inside. “You’ll regret ever laying eyes on what’s mine.”
My Celeste.
You will be mine.