Page 31 of Your Soul Is Ours

“I know.” We drive home, quickly walk into the shed, and I pick up the full bucket. The aunt has quieted down, and deescalated to tears and whimpers. I walk back out to pour the blood over the soil to feed the flowers.

“How do you move the body?” she asks, looking at the man on the table and back at me.

I crack my neck, remove the restraints and pull him off the table, lifting under his arms and pulling him up the stairs to the hole in the backyard. His body lands with a thud. Marla stands at the edge and looks into the hole. "Guess that's how," she says. "Let's go finish her."

I watch her walk back to the shed, the moonlight casting a glow over the yard and my eyes travel over her hips, swaying as she walks with purpose to the killing den.

“Hurry up,” she says loudly as I follow slowly behind her.

I smile as I see her opening the crate and holding the knife to her aunt’s throat. “Run and I’ll kill you right here. You can die sitting in your own piss and shit.” Her voice isn’t trembling tonight, and she is gaining strength from these kills. Janet still tries to run, but I grab her and hoist her onto the table, securing her hands in the restraints.

“Pretty sure my beautiful girlfriend told you not to run,” I tell her as I put her ankles in the restraints. “She has stuff to say, and you are going to listen. If you decide not to, I’m sure I can find something to gag you with.”

Her eyes squeeze shut like she can pretend this isn’t happening. Marla uses the step stool to get closer to her aunt. I hook up the bucket to the drain. “All ready for you my dove, I’ll be in that room,” pointing over my shoulder. Kissing her cheek, I turn and walk to the little room.

Twenty

Marla

Iwatch him walk away as I tie the heavy black apron on myself. I don’t see the point, but he has a problem with cleanliness, so I’ll do what he wants. My heart is racing with excitement and my stomach flip-flops for the love I have for this man who willdo anything for me. I’m thrilled at the way he cares about me and the ability his presence has to help push the darkness to the edges of my mind.

“You are disgusting, lusting over a man who thinks it’s okay to tie someone to a table. A man, if you can call him that, who kills people.” Janet ruins the moment for me. The past flashes before my eyes: every time she ridiculed me, every time she sided with my mother, and the parties she attended where she watched me be abused.

“Should I have loved you? When you told me I wouldn’t make it as an adult? That I wouldn’t be able to live on my own without my mother?”

She turns her head to look at me. “You haven’t made it as an adult. You are every bit of the lowlife I imagined you would become.”

Her words hurt me. I shouldn’t let them cut me like my mother’s, but somehow, they always creep through and dig little slices, as if her words were insulation, and I grabbed a big handful. I remember the time she partied with my mother, my siblings and I were banished to the attic, and they got me to play with the pink fluff. The cuts on my hands were so tiny, but painful.

No longer thinking of the memories, I slide the knife into her neck like Sebastian showed me, using more strength than I thought I had. Her blood pours out quicker than my uncle’s, cascading over the blade as I continue to apply pressure, slicing through the muscles and tendons. With the angle of the table, it flows to the small sink above her head. Red mixes with her white hair and stains it.

It feels like minutes, I lose focus and stare at the blood pouring out of her. The room spins slightly, and I feel powerful, but I’ve lost track of time as I press the knife harder.

“Marla, you can’t kill her twice. You’ve done well, but she’s long gone.”

I glance up at him, then look back to Janet and I notice the life is gone from her eyes. The corpse lays still and the blood slows down. It covers my hand from the pressure I’ve applied. I pull my hand away as I look in his direction. Taking a deep breath, the air is filled with metallic overtones and dampness. “Go clean up. I’ll deal with the mess here and then I’ll move her body, but we’ll cover them together.”

I don’t wait to be told again. My legs tremble as I walk towards the workbench, washing the knife and my hands. I take off the apron and head out the door. Once the fresh air hits my face, reality crashes around me like an explosion. I want to kill everyone who has hurt me, but the realization that I’ve killed three members of my family in a short amount of time swirls around me in a weird, threatening feeling. I wonder what I’ve become.

While I walk over to the back of the house to lean against it, my chest tightens. I can’t breathe. The air has been sucked out of my lungs and my blood has turned to a gritty glue that hurts as it pumps through my veins. Inhaling deeply through my nose only causes my heart to race faster, making me feel more anxious.

My gaze wanders across the landscape, taking in the sights and textures. The backyard is surrounded by a dense thicket of trees. I suspect the overgrown leaves on the trees are a deliberate attempt to create a sense of natural privacy. The vibrant colours of the flowers lining the yard catch the eye. The full moon casts a ghostly light that adds an eerie feeling to the shadows.

As I take another breath, I’m aware of the smell of fresh air, a cool breeze that smells of the country, the dampness of the vegetation, and the jasmine shampoo I use. Slowly, my mind takes in these details, allowing myself to become grounded in the moment.

I light a smoke and watch as he emerges from the shed. His footsteps are silent, and Sebastian drops down beside me. The sweet smell of his sweat against the metallic scent of blood surrounds him.

“Are you doing, okay?” I nod, filling my lungs again with a deep breath, the air better than when I first came out. He reaches out and steals the smoke from my hand, taking a drag without moving his eyes from mine. “When you are done, just tell me. You never have to do this because you think I like it. This is for you.”

I know this, I know all of this, yet the depression fights with the anxiety, and the demons inside my head battle over what I’m doing. But when I look into his eyes, I feel the demons slightly recede into the dark edges of my mind.

“I know. Each time I feel powerful, but I also seem to have a panic attack or something.”

He hands the cigarette back to me. “It’s a complex situation. You’ve dreamed of this for years. Wanting to hurt people who have hurt you is normal, but rarely do you get to do it. I’m here for you. Let’s take care of this, then we can head to bed.”

We walk back to the shed together and he puts Janet over his shoulder like she weighs nothing. His strength both impresses me and turns me on. His dark hair falls in his eyes, and he grabs the large metal bucket that is under the table with the other hand.

“Do we need to clean up here?” I ask.

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