Alicia had taken Damian to the doctor’s office. He had been coughing lately. I love how she treats him like he’s her own. Then again, I never did think of her as the ‘evil step mother’ type. She nice, she’s beautiful, and she’s one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met, but she’s no Skylar. No, she would never be the bloodthirsty, blissfully sexually unaware murderer I’d loved those years ago. Gerard, Frank, and I had decided that we would stop the murders after she had died, but we couldn’t. It was just to fun. So, after a year of ‘celibacy’ as one might say, we started again. The town had healed just enough that no one noticed for quite a bit. Then Gerard and I moved to California. It was just Frank who had carried on our legacy, but now we were together once more. Just like we’re doing at this very moment, we could kill together again.

“Frank, this guy’s heavy. Can you please take him to the chair for me?” Gerard asked. We were doing a Skylar-style torture fest. It was in honor of the four year anniversary of her death. Gerard had even dyed his hair red for the occasion, just like hers had been.

“So, I was thinking we would use some kabob skewers? They work very well for digging through meaty things...” I suggested. “I have some in the death bag.”
We’d been using the same old bag since Gerard and Frank had started with ‘Jillian’, as she was named then. Why get a new one with so many memories and blood stains on it already? It would be like throwing away a child.

“Perfect. Well, let’s get started.” Gerard said, clapping the dust off of his hands. The man was tied to the ceiling by his arms. I took one of the skewers out of my bag and slowly dug it into his arm, laughing in my dark humor. Blood dripped elegantly down from the wound to the floor. Oh, how much better it would be if he were awake. Frank stabbed a second one through the skin on his shoulder. He jolted awake with a beautiful scream.

Gerard added a third through his stomach, into the wall behind him. Another, through his hand. Neck, forehead, leg, chest, one even wound up hitting a rib. One hundred and forty eight little red streams going down his body, some melding together to form tiny waterways. His screaming had stopped a while ago, but we hadn’t. I took out my favorite knife and cut him from ear to ear. Ah, if only Damian was here. We would’ve had such fun together.