Crack.
Well, it wasn’t my intention to break his knees. But here we are, and the feeling of his bones cracking is like the cherry on top.
“My hummingbird won’t ever be yours to touch.” I take a deep breath, because whenever I think of her, I get giddy. A couple of months ago, I was at a wedding, and the moment our eyes locked, it was over. I became obsessed, and I knew she was the one.
Whether she liked it or not.
Back to the matter at hand.
“While we are on the subject of touching, you love touching women without consent, don’t you?”
He shakes his head violently because he is aware of what I know about him.
“You have sexually assaulted four women in the past year. Luckily, I called the cops, and they will find your ugly head in this apartment,” I tell him.
“Once you are gone, I’m running the fuck away.” Like hell he will.
“You know what? I’m running out of time, and I need to set up a security system in my hummingbird’s apartment. Open. Wide,” and he does. I push the pear in his mouth, and I turn the screw. He is crying out because I’m sure he is in a lot of pain. This device was used in medieval times, although some historians believe it was also used much later. I won’t get into the history of it right now, but the most important thing to remember is this: the device causes tremendous suffering. Youcan put it anywhere in the victim and turn the screw to open it up.
“I know you like eating apples, so I thought I should introduce you to another fruit. This lovely pear has four leaves that will make you wish you were never born.” I turn around, grab two screwdrivers, and jab them through his hands. Now he truly can’t leave. I stand back, and for the first time since I have entered this shithole, I feel happy.
I stretch out my arms, and I smile. Every time I kill someone who wants to hurt someone precious to me, I feel energized.
See, I can be a good guy. Or whatever the fuck that means.
I go into his bedroom because there are all of his painting supplies. Yes, this sleazy motherfucker is a painter. With one paintbrush and a large white canvas, I enter the living room again. I sit down on the floor, and I start working on my masterpiece. Once I am finished, I show it to him.
“Now, what do you think? I think it’s amazing,” I tell him. He can’t even see my beautiful message on the board because of his tears.
“You do know that it’s rude not to answer when somebody asks you a question?” I’m not getting anywhere with this guy. I put some strong tape, which I took from his room, on the back of the board and I tape it to his ugly legs.
“I think it’s only fair that I cut off your hands so you won’t ever get another chance to touch a woman.” I get my favorite sharp blade from the briefcase and get to work. It’s not that easy to cut off someone’s hands. But with determination and strength, anyone can do it.
My blade is slicing beautifully through his skin and bones. Blood splatters all around us, and it’s a testament to how far I can and will go for my hummingbird. Dark red streaks of anguish are coating his floor and my clothes. Luckily, I am wearing my special gloves and clothes, which I’m going to burnlater. I can see the flesh and bones in his hands, and I am not one bit disgusted. A lot of flesh is hanging off his hands, and the bleeding still hasn’t stopped.
Good.
The scent of his blood is piercing through my nose, coppery, raw, and sharp. I close my eyes and inhale it. Aphro-fucking-disiac. I look at him again.
“You will probably lose consciousness and I couldn’t care less. Once I am done and the police rescue you, you can take some paracetamol for the pain, so—” I can’t even finish my sentence because I am laughing, loudly. “I’m sorry, man, I can’t even joke around.” I take a step back and admire my handiwork. This might be my favorite dismemberment I have done in years. When I look around the room, it’s a sight to be seen. It’s covered in his blood, and the smell of his piss is tying everything together.
I put everything back in my large briefcase and make sure to wipe down my shoes. I don’t need any bloody footprints leading to my hummingbird’s apartment. Before I leave his apartment, I look at him one last time. The police will know what to do with him, especially since I literally wrote it out for them on the board.
I’m The Rope. Check my fingerprints.
“You are probably going to die, but if you don’t, I have one last message for you. Don’t you ever tell anyone about this,” and with that, I am out of his shit-infested apartment.
I go into my hummingbird’s apartment and set up the security system.
Will she know anything about this? No.
Will I tell her about this? No.
Will I enjoy watching her? Absolutely.
I leave the building, then head for Lover’s Hideout. It’s a hotel outside of Sarajevo for people likeme. I get settled into mybed, and I fall asleep. Once I wake up, I check my phone, and I see a newspaper article about a man brutally murdered in his apartment. Police also believe that this man is responsible for a series of rapes. They also advised that people should watch out.
Yes, they should watch out for me.
