All The Good Girls Go To Heaven
Bella Morte
Oh, how to explain this to Mikey. It seems as though I have a small child growing inside of me. More specifically, HIS small child. It’s up to him if I destroy it or not. I would not care either way. I’ve never liked children. No matter, I’ll deal with it if he asks about it. He’s not a complete idiot, so when he sees me heaving up last night’s dinner every morning, he’ll probably question me about it.
“So, what should we do about him?” Gerard asked Frank in the background.
“I think we should let him join us. The more the merrier, I suppose.” Frank replied, painting his nails with foul-smelling, jet black nail polish. He does it on occasion, only when he’s unsure about something. I had told them about Mikey’s little ‘secret’. How could I not? I was sure he could help us. He wasn’t half bad at spattering innocent blood over the walls of my new favorite house.
“We should give him a chance. I’ve seen what he’s done, and he’s very innovative. Like the way he pinned the man down to the chair. A fresh brain means fresh ideas.” I chimed in.
“So then it’s settled. Mikey will help us. Another boy to do all of the work for you, eh Skylar?” Gerard smirked.
“At least I keep my boys out of jail.” I replied enthusiastically. I really feel like a family, now. One big, blood thirsty, family. If only we could get Ray and Bob as well... but Ray is too absorbed in his music for that. All day, he’s in his room. Always trying to make my boys sound good, and doing a damn good job at it. Bob would never hurt a thing... except if that thing was a camera. I don’t blame him for that. Camera’s aren’t my favorite thing in the world. Recordings are like evidence. BAD. Ah, well. My life is perfect as is. I wouldn’t change a thing.
“Let me go! I didn’t do anything wrong! I swear!” The middle-aged woman shouted at us.
“We don’t care if you did anything wrong. We’re just bored.” Mikey sighed, staring at her. Fear was the emotion most present in her eyes. Then pain, as Gerard, Frank, and Mikey started sawing away at her appendages. Frank was ripping away at the fingers on her right hand, while Gerard focussed on the left. Mikey had the pleasure of cutting through the bones, tendons, and flesh on her ankles. Crunches and whimpers filled the room that smelled of decomposing flesh.
“Don’t worry. We won’t let you die yet.” I said from across the room. She stared at me and started asking me questions. It was just the usual.
“Please let me go?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Why are you so heartless?”
That sort of thing. It’s meaningless banter, not fit for my ears. So, I tune it out, instead, listening to the fully recorded version of the song I wrote.
“I Never Told You What I Do For A Living” plays constantly in my head during these nights. The words bring meaning to the liquid life that drains out of each person. Once the person bores me, I tell my boys to end them. Then we start all over again tomorrow. I’m living a beautiful life, and it’s full of beautiful death.
“So, what should we do about him?” Gerard asked Frank in the background.
“I think we should let him join us. The more the merrier, I suppose.” Frank replied, painting his nails with foul-smelling, jet black nail polish. He does it on occasion, only when he’s unsure about something. I had told them about Mikey’s little ‘secret’. How could I not? I was sure he could help us. He wasn’t half bad at spattering innocent blood over the walls of my new favorite house.
“We should give him a chance. I’ve seen what he’s done, and he’s very innovative. Like the way he pinned the man down to the chair. A fresh brain means fresh ideas.” I chimed in.
“So then it’s settled. Mikey will help us. Another boy to do all of the work for you, eh Skylar?” Gerard smirked.
“At least I keep my boys out of jail.” I replied enthusiastically. I really feel like a family, now. One big, blood thirsty, family. If only we could get Ray and Bob as well... but Ray is too absorbed in his music for that. All day, he’s in his room. Always trying to make my boys sound good, and doing a damn good job at it. Bob would never hurt a thing... except if that thing was a camera. I don’t blame him for that. Camera’s aren’t my favorite thing in the world. Recordings are like evidence. BAD. Ah, well. My life is perfect as is. I wouldn’t change a thing.
“Let me go! I didn’t do anything wrong! I swear!” The middle-aged woman shouted at us.
“We don’t care if you did anything wrong. We’re just bored.” Mikey sighed, staring at her. Fear was the emotion most present in her eyes. Then pain, as Gerard, Frank, and Mikey started sawing away at her appendages. Frank was ripping away at the fingers on her right hand, while Gerard focussed on the left. Mikey had the pleasure of cutting through the bones, tendons, and flesh on her ankles. Crunches and whimpers filled the room that smelled of decomposing flesh.
“Don’t worry. We won’t let you die yet.” I said from across the room. She stared at me and started asking me questions. It was just the usual.
“Please let me go?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Why are you so heartless?”
That sort of thing. It’s meaningless banter, not fit for my ears. So, I tune it out, instead, listening to the fully recorded version of the song I wrote.
“I Never Told You What I Do For A Living” plays constantly in my head during these nights. The words bring meaning to the liquid life that drains out of each person. Once the person bores me, I tell my boys to end them. Then we start all over again tomorrow. I’m living a beautiful life, and it’s full of beautiful death.
