Diary of a Dead Man: The Final Thoughts of Ed Boothe by Matt Shaw

Author:Matt Shaw
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Single Authors, Genre Fiction, Horror, 90 Minutes (44-64 Pages), Literature & Fiction, Short Stories, Short Stories & Anthologies
Published: 2015-01-25T11:00:00+00:00

A Grim Task

I am a murderer. Not just that: I am a serial murderer. I enjoy the act of killing. Remember - humans only, not animals. I’m not sure why I enjoy this hobby. I’m not sure whether it’s down to nature or whether it is down to nurture. Indeed - we could argue the hours away going backwards and forwards with that particular debate but I feel it would be pointless. We’d never settle upon a definitive answer and - more importantly - it would be a waste of what little time I could have left. Not long to wait now. I’m not sure whether I am excited or scared. Maybe a little bit of both?

It’s weird knowing you’re going to die but not knowing when exactly. I mean, I know we’re all waiting to die, it’s just knowing you’re going to be murdered. Knowing at some point you’re going to be woken up in your cell by a smug looking guard handing you your exact date of execution. You’ll be pleased to know that it is not a nice way to live. At least I spared my victims - your families - that. There was no build up, no anticipation, I just came along and snuffed out their pathetic little lives. I wish there was someone who could offer me such a way to go. But I digress.

Killing someone is one thing (enjoyable thing at that) but getting rid of the body is not as pleasant. Over the years many people have tried varied methods of hiding their crimes and disposing of the bodies. Some criminals have tried feeding them to pigs (and other animals) but this isn’t practical unless you’re a drug baron with your own private farm (or zoo). Some have fed the alligators in the Florida swamps, others have simply thrown the bodies into the ocean. Some bodies get buried in shallow graves in the woods or in the Vegas desert and you even have some people getting more elaborate with bath tubs filled with flesh and bone eating acid (I couldn’t possibly imagine the smell of a body melting down). On the wrong side of crazy you have the odd individual who likes to skin their victims and wear them as a coat whilst eating what is left of them but - again - that’s not for me. For me - it’s all about cutting the body into small sections which are then, hopefully, easy enough to hide.

Despite the horrors which faced me as I sawed into my mother’s dead body all those years ago, I had actually forgotten the sound the teeth of the saw made as it sliced through the flesh, tendons, and bone of a person. For me the sound of the flesh getting cut is nastier than the sound of the bone getting cut for the latter - it sounds as though the saw is cutting through a thick branch. At least it does if you really call upon your imagination to help disguise the noise.

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