Dark Matter: Short Stories & Poems by Rose Perez

Author:Rose Perez
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: dark, short story, free

Bloodbath

(Story by FlyTrapMan)

Alexander hates it when Isabella shops on Saturdays. This past month has been antiques. Last Saturday, she bought a rusted birdcage, because she was told it was from the early 1900’s. The cage is merely corroded wire.

The week before, Isabella purchased a cherry wood bench allegedly from London, which rests against a tree in the garden. The week before that, she purchased a katana that supposedly was owned by a late samurai from the Takada clan, in 1544.

Alexander stands in the bathroom. All other previous endeavors he can forget. How can he possibly forget this? He brushes teeth and then spits into the sink.

“Where did you find that beauty?”

Isabella glides a comb through her wavy red hair. She heard him. She hears all of Alexander's questions.

“…Oh…the bathtub…I found it at Fine Art and Antique”.

Alexander knows that place very well -- even though he normally wouldn't give a shit about the shop.

“Dr. Stokemen -- the one who sold it to me -- said it is a thousand years old and imported from Italy.”

“Really? I didn't know they had tubs back then.” Alexander says.

In the middle of the night, Alexander's bladder stings him. He stumbles to the bathroom -- the lights sting his eyes shut.

A slight scent of lavender taints the air while Alexander haunches over the toilet. Droplets of water cling to the mirror surface -- spherical, glistening beads roll down the reflective skin. He flushes the toilet, and cast through the chrome handle; a figure stands near the antique bathtub. The more he looks, the more the world inside the handle dissolves into a rusted reality, flickering with sheens of orange.

Alexander turns around and sees nothing. Water glitters inside of the antique bathtub.

Isabella yawns and turns on the light. She sees the antique bathtub glowing inside of the mirror…silver legs curve and bulge…supported by a deep belly…strange symbols engraved along the rim...small figures etched underneath the symbols -- in a row that depicts a story which can only be assumed -- never deciphered.

Some people see sacrifice while others see the praise of love. A few individuals see both. The ornate alloy swallows light and radiates a soft shine.

Steam rises into delicate streams of wisp while Isabella undresses -- she dips a toe into the water --the golden warmth kisses her soul. She submerges an ankle, and the heat begs for her to come in.

Isabella obliges.

With a foot in the warm water, and the other on cold tile, she feels unanchored by Earthly limitation, as if Isabella is being lifted toward the sky. Her stomach churns and settles into a comfortable numbness. The cold evaporates and the warmth kisses her eyes closed.

Alexander saws at a piece of rare steak.

"…Stupid Bastard…"

Alexander cleaves the steak and spits undesirable fat onto his plate. By 5:05 pm, Alexander returns home. He listens for footsteps upstairs, but is welcomed by silence.

“Isabella?”

No Answer.

Photographs spill out of a folder --Alexander picks them up and sees what he has to work with next week.

The first picture depicts a line of sprinters.

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