Page 72 of Hello, Listener
“Oh, baby. He’s not drugged.”
“What do you mean?”Still not comprehending, I see.
I make my way to the slumped-over corpse in the chair. The black zip ties around his wrist begin to sink further into his rotting flesh.
“Well, Thalia, let’s see. If he isn’t responding to your pathetic little cries, and hasn’t been drugged, what do you think happened?”More sobs."Thalia. Stop crying and use your fucking words!”
“Did you kill him?!” Her sobs turn into screams.There’s my girl.
“Ding, ding, ding! I think we have a winner!” I yell back and remove my switchblade from my pocket. With one push of a button, the blade quickly unlatches from its sheath. With what seems like all of the force that I have, I stab Jace’s leg through the rancid denim on his outer thigh. The clotted blood that leaks from the open cut is immaculate. The dark red fluid flows like thick oil on his jeans. Her expression changes to disgust and sadness. I glaredown as she turns her head and vomits on the floor next to her chair.
“Oh, don’t be like that. I thought you would be so excited to see him.” I crouch down on my knees in front of Jace and slice open the black zip ties around each ankle. His body begins to slide off the metal chair, only being propped up by his arms wrapped around the back of the chair. Thalia screams as his lifeless, dark brown eyes look up at her while half of his body slides down the seat. “They always scream,” I inform her, nonchalantly moving to the back of the metal backing.
“They?” She probes quietly.
“Oh, she fucking speaks.” I glimpse over at her tear and makeup-smeared face.
“What do you mean, they?”
“The people I’ve killed.” I move behind Jace and slide the sharp blade through the zip tie that holds his wrists together. His limp arms fall to his sides. A loud sound of his dead weight falls onto the hard floor below him.
“Y-you’ve killed… people?”
“Of course. Do you think Jace is the only one?” I stand up and grab my folded plastic tarp and charged mini saw from the table behind us. She examines me as I scan over the number of items strategically placed in a long row.
“Why?”
“Why, what, Thalia?” I sigh, pulling the body lying on the floor in front of her feet.
“Why did you kill?” Her eyes move over me while I spread out the clear tarp on the floor.
“Foryou, baby,” I admit while smoothing over the wrinkles in the plastic.
“I never asked you to kill anyone!”
“Oh, I know. Call it an offering, or a gift if you will.” I stand up and move Jace’s body over the tarp.
“Who did you kill, for me, I mean?”More fucking questions.I walk over to my phone and press the option to stop recording.
I’ve never driven to Alan’s house quicker than in all the years I’ve known him. The lights from the large city buildings shine through my dark-tinted windows as I drive through the many cars on the busy road. My blood feels like it’s boiling with every shift I make.She let him touch her. She fucking let him touch her! After I told her how I felt, she fucking let him touch her. I knew I should never have let another broad get under my skin.My thoughts repeat the same phrases over and over until I reach his gated community.
Alan’s house is dark aside from the light coming from above the oven in the kitchen.
“Alan, what the fuck?!” I yell as I park my car and slam my door.As if the motherfucker can hear me.I walk up to the front door and jiggle the locked handle. Luckily for me, Alan gave me a spare key when he first moved into this place.
My hands shake as I slide the key in thelock.
“You better be here, you asshole!” I shout while walking in the doorway. I follow it up with the loud slam of the front door.The fucker’s house is empty!“Alan! What the hell happened in here?!” His kitchen is a fucking mess and the cabinets are completely shattered, there is wood and shards of glass all over the tile.
“Hey, you fuck! Are you home?!” I yell out again and continue to search his house.Leaving a mess like this, this isn’t him.“Ashley! Where the fuck is your husband?”No sign of her either.
I stomp through the house like a madman, searching his bedroom first.
“If I catch you fucking my girl, I’ll…”
His bedroom door opens to his bed, already pristinely made with no signs of wrinkles in the comforter.What a psycho.I searched everywhere in this wing of his house. Nothing but a destroyed kitchen and empty rooms. There is only one more place to check.
The fucking studio.
