3. Atlas

A high-pitched scream pierces my ears, and I squint, wondering how long my brain checked out for this time. Astrid is absolutely hysterical, fighting against the tight restraints that still hold her in place. Putting the clever back in its original spot, I look down at her, and boy, what a mess she looks.

Black mascara streaks down her cheeks, the once purple eyeshadow and red lipstick so smeared I can’t help but laugh. She looks ridiculous right now, writhing around like a fish out of water when there is no possible way for her to get loose.

“Help!” she screams over and over again.

“Astrid, I need you to calm down,” I plead. “I don’t want to wake up my wife.”

“You fucking psycho… fuck you!!”

“Ok… first of all, there’s no need to talk to me that way.” I circle around to face her, squatting down to pick up her right hand and, as I do, place it on the space above her head. “Y’know… I thought you would be different. But you’re just like the others. Why do you women always persist in scr—”

“Get the fuck away from me!! Help me!!”

“Astrid, please, I just need to—”

“Somebody help me!! Plea—”

“SHUT UP!” I explode, lunging at her and gripping the back of her neck tight enough to choke her. Punching the table with all my might, I bring my head close to hers and shout in her face.

“You shut your fucking mouth, or I’ll kill you right now!” Spit flies from her mouth, landing in my left eye. “Perfect… that’s really fucking childish of you, Astrid.”

“Fuck you! You fucking freak! Help me!”

She continues to scream, the tone of her voice becoming horse with every elongated cry of the word ‘me’. I’m already tired of hearing her voice, Christ, I was tired of it the moment she sat down at the dinner table. I jerk the tray open from the neighbouring set of draws beside me and yank out a medical-grade mouth guard, pulling her head back and shoving it into her mouth.

“I told you to be quiet,” I growl, smashing her head into the table to pacify her as best as I can. “And look at you… ruining everything.”

Resting my forearm on the side of her head to keep it immobilised and lean over to pick up the forceps and scalpel. “If you would have just stayed quiet, none of this would be happening right now. I’d have been able to finish what I needed to, and we could’ve both moved on… well… you would’ve been put out of your misery a lot more gently than you will be now that’s for sure.”

“Please.” She chokes on her own sobs. “Just… please, just let me go.”

“I can’t, Astrid.” I cut her off, forcing the forceps into her mouth and pinching the thick muscle of her tongue between them. “You talk too much… and I have a better use for this after having it lick my cock earlier.”

I squeeze them so tight against her tongue, she shrieks, but that’s nothing compared to what’s about to come. The blade of the scalpel meets the side of her tongue, and I watch her eyes widen seconds before I begin to slice through it. Forcing it back and forth through the thick meat and capillaries, the edge so razor-sharp, it glides through like butter.

Her legs kick and buck against my shins and feet, and while I work to remove as most of it as possible, the sounds she makes are reminiscent of a stuck pig. Blood pools beneath her cheek, enabling me to drown out her cries of agony.

When the tongue is completely severed, I step back and hold it between my fingers and shake it playfully. “I was only interested in your hand, but now… well, now I have that and your tongue. There’s one more thing I need before we are finished here, and I can go home to my wife.” I poke my index finger through the hole in the guard and pull it from her mouth.

Thick ropes of blood pool from inside her mouth, coasting along her jawline to join the rest of it on the silver table, her tears dripping into the crimson fluid as she sobs quieter than previously. I run my fingers through her soft hair, smiling at what a find she was. I’d spent so long searching that I almost gave up on finding someone that would make Shelly happy.

After all, she was the one who made me laugh, smile, and come like I never had before. She always made sure that my needs came first. Shelly was everything to me. And what my woman wants, she gets.

Last year, I remember her begging me for a new hairstyle. She persisted so much that I almost gave in, but there were other things that we needed to deal with before I could give her a new style. I didn’t even intend on letting her have a new hairstyle. I like her as she is with long, jet black hair… she looks absolutely statuesque with it. But then I realised what I was doing the exact same thing that I’ve been complaining about all these years.

Gazing up at the time, I realise it’s later than I wanted it to be.

10pm… shit. She’ll be wondering where I am.

Astrid’s breathing has become laboured, her skin now a pale grey from all the blood loss she has sustained, and all I want to do now is put her out of her misery. I wouldn’t treat an animal like this, so why should I let her suffer any longer than she needs to?

“Astrid,” I whisper in her ear, brushing a few blood-laden strands of hair from her cheek. “It’s time. Thank you for what you have given me tonight. Rest well in the understanding that you will be making my beautiful wife so happy.”

And with those final words, I press the scalpel into her jugular vein and twist. With what little energy she has left within her body, she struggles against my hold for only a few seconds more. Eventually succumbing to the call of death and seeping into the darkness. As the rest of her life force squirts through the gaping hole, I wait on bated breath for a few more seconds before grabbing my favourite hunting knife from the leather sheath in my back pocket. Something that Astrid failed to notice as it was covered by my black suit jacket.

I slide my hand up the nape of her neck and widen my fingers into the thick mane, fisting my hand at the top of her head and lifting it up and back. I place the blade an inch lower than her hairline and begin to slice through her skin, working as quickly as I can to remove her luxurious hair.

Carving through the capillaries and fat with every incision I create, making sure to cut delicately around her temples, ears and nape. Giving myself enough skin attached to the scalp so I’m able to remove all of the unnecessary bits later when I clean it up in the bath.

I just know Shelly will be over the moon when she wakes up.