Glimpse by Stephen B. King

Author:Stephen B. King [King, Stephen B]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fiction, thriller
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2018-08-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12: My Memoir Entry - Graduation Day

I admit it. I consider Angel, as she will always be to me, though for what reason I will never know, the point where I finally graduated from the university of life, and death. But, I must also acknowledge, in many ways it was amateurish.

Understandable, I suppose. I rushed things, and she only lasted four days. I came home from work in a state of great excitement with plans for that night’s entertainment, only to find her hanging from the cuffs in the wall, lifeless. I had even brought her a hamburger, and the ungrateful bitch had given up the ghost. Well, it didn’t go to waste, I ate it while considering my next move.

I had bought an even bigger chest freezer and put it in the shed when I had re-opened the business. I had checked out sizing because, unlike my father, I was not intending to put just the one body in there, but several.

I had invested in some heavy-duty plastic drums, with lids and they would fit on top of each other two high inside the freezer. The drums were for the entrails and organs. The house had a septic tank for sewerage, so the blood would be flushed down the toilet, and I had been investing for a while in plastic drop sheets for wrapping the joints of meat up in, once I had butchered the corpse.

I am not explaining all this to sicken readers with weak stomachs, and I apologize if that happens. The reason for pointing all this out is to highlight my planning skills. I had been working on this phase of my life for a long time; I had not hurried. Yes, finding Angel was fortuitous, but I had been ready for her for some considerable time.

I decided to strip the meat from the choicest cuts, transport it to work and put it through the mincer. The idea had only become more appealing with time, rather than less, but the meat had to be fresh, of course I wanted people to somehow share in my work, yet not become ill.

Is it a contradiction in terms to be having my ‘fun’ with women, killing them, but not wanting to make others sick from eating spoilt meat? Maybe it is dear reader. I will leave such judgements to you.

As I am not a strong man. I had devised a pulley system to winch Angel upside down from her position on the floor when I undid the cuffs. Once suspended I could let the blood drain out, get rid of the messy bits into one of the tubs, and begin my human butchery lesson. I had, naturally, already done some studying of anatomy at the Midland Library and used their photocopier to record some of the diagrams of the more complex joints I would need to cut through.

I didn’t finish until after midnight, and boy, was I tired? The last hour had been spent cleaning up, as every good butcher does at the end of his shift.

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