He nods, his mouth still gaping.
“Want to fuck me, big Daddy?” I hook my thumbs around the edges of my panties and pull them over my ass, dropping them to the floor and flicking them at him. They land beside him on the couch, and he stands, his cock growing in his pants. His eyes trace up my bare legs, stopping at the space between them. “Yes,” he gulps, swallowing hard.
I don’t have the energy to ride his cock, so I stand, walk over to my small island and spread my legs, waiting for him to make the next move. He unbuttons his pants without haste, unzips his fly, and practically trips over his pants as they fall around hisankles, trying to get to me. I smile deviously at him, my lashes fluttering, luring him in before turning my head and focusing on the flames. The salesman wedges himself between my legs, and the fire intensifies as he feeds his short, fat cock into me. His hands tighten around my breasts, and my body shifts back and forth as he rocks into me rhythmically.
“Oh, fuck. Oh fuck. Oooooh fuuuuuck,” his head launches to the ceiling, a satisfied smile on his face as his cum floods inside of me.
Two pump chump.
He rests his head between my breasts, holding me against the island, his mint-scented breath filling the space between us.
My hand slides along the kitchen counter until it bumps into the side of the butcher’s block holding my knives. I pull it out slowly, the sound of the metal scraping against the wood sending a tingle of excitement between my thighs. “Did you like that, Daddy?”
His eyes meet mine. “Oh, fuck yeah.”
I run my fingers through his sandy hair, my lips curling into a smirk. “Do you have any children at home?”
“No.” He answers without hesitation, and I know his words are truthful.
I kiss him softly on the lips and say, “Good, then they won’t have to miss you.” The knife pierces through his right side and into the space where his liver should be.
He yelps and falls away from me, staggering and tripping over his own pants. His hand presses tightly against his wound, his eyes locked on the blood dripping from the tip of my blade. “What did you do?”
“I’m sorry,” I murmur as I drop the knife in the sink beside me and gaze into the flames. “But I need to talk to Mastyx, and killing you is the only way.”
“What? Who?” The words barely exit his mouth when a hooved foot breaches the flames, landing in front of him. The salesman slides back on the floor, leaving a trail of blood, his face paling from blood loss. I stand there, my eyes unseeing as Mastyx’s other hooved foot breaches the flames, his body entering the room in slow motion. The salesman’s eyes widen, his mouth stretching into a cartoon-like face right before a blood-curdling scream pierces my ears. Mastyx lifts him from my living room floor, blood dripping like rain onto the hardwood from his knife wound and pulls the man against his chest so they are face to face.
I feel nothing. I do nothing as Mastyx’s throat lights up, and the man’s soul leaves his body and enters Mastyx, draining him dry until he’s nothing more than a pile of loose skin and bones.
The skin-coated bones thud to the floor. What once bothered me no longer matters. Seeing so many deaths over the years has numbed my soul. I’m a heartless monster, just as much as he is.
My eyes drift to Mastyx. “I don’t feel like myself anymore.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “They’re all sinners. No more tears for them. You don’t know what they do or think behind closed doors, but I do. I know everything.” He walks toward me, forcing me backward into my bedroom. “Now, lie down and let me take care of you.”
???
After Mastyx had his way with me, which was entirely for my benefit this time, including after care, I have a spring in my step. I feel…refreshed, like everything that was bothering me suddenly vanished, and I feel anew. I have an energy surging through me that I haven’t felt in days, and I wonder if he had something to do with it.
Did he clear my mind of what’s making me depressed?
This is what he does. He takes care of me.
He makes me forget who I’ve hurt so that I can focus on the why.
I want to survive—to stay in this life amongst the living.
My eyes brighten as I sit in front of a block of wood, the man I just killed, and Mastyx’s juices still seeping out of me. Buying human bones online can be pricey, and their quality and legitimacy are questionable. Using the bones of my victims in my work just makes sense. Why pay such a high price for something I have access to for free? And the best part is, no one will be the wiser. It’s not like I’m not already doing well with the animal art pieces; I’m actually doing fantastic. But human ones, buyers absolutely love them, and the price point I can set for them is significantly higher.
The salesman’s feet are currently serving as a buffet for my beetles. Dermestid beetles are curious and useful little creatures. I love the way they can take fleshy body parts and devour them in a matter of days, especially with the large colony I maintain.
Once the bones are picked clean and ready for use, I’ll attach them to the plank and surround the edges with little nursery pots that I’ve strategically attached to the plank. I will fill them with mature micro grasses and add bundles of dried flowers. I think I will call this piece Spring in My Step.
The next full moon is not only rare, but one that has the police making announcements and on high alert. People who own black cats are warned to keep them indoors, and they anticipate an uptick in crime and unusual calls. I scan the list of warnings provided by the police department, published in the local town crier, and smile—no warning to local men not to go home with strange women.
I call that a win for me.
???
