It felt like I was pulling an ox and it was in that moment I understood the term dead weight.
I’ve killed many people, but I never had to drag their bodies anywhere. Lesson learned: kill the person where you plan to leave them.
I’m 5 feet, 5 inches and weigh around 125 pounds. Rex was a slim build and only a few inches taller than me, but at this moment, he may as well have been a giant.
Thank goodness I worked out as often as I did. Those three days a week I alternated between boxing, weightlifting and intense cardio was saving my ass right now.
Pausing to give my hands a break, I loosened the rope that was digging into my right hand and surveyed the damage.
A fiery red welt was visible on my palm. I flexed my fingers, experiencing a slight stiffness, before I glanced down at Rex, or what was left of him.
After stabbing my boyfriend to death, during halftime of a basketball game, I’d removed his hands and feet, and buried them at a secluded park last night.
Separating parts of him would definitely make it harder for his identity to be determined, but that’s not why I did it.
Rex loved that park.
During a very dark period in his life, he was homeless and said that the park was the only place he felt safe and could get some decent rest.
Rex admitted it was a struggle sleeping in the park without food, blankets or even sensible clothes to protect himself from the bad weather. On cold winter nights, he’d bury his hands in the dirt to keep them warm.
Now that was plain sad. I considered it my duty to give him one last act of kindness.
What can I say? I’m sentimental and pretty nice when I want to be. The man I was currently holding hostage in my basement would disagree, but that’s neither here nor there.
Nevertheless, there was no way I could bury Rex’s whole body at the park. Digging a hole for hands and feet was one thing, digging an entire grave… Absolutely not. I didn’t care that much.
Therefore, I made the smart choice and hung around the cemetery for the last few days, sitting at the same headstone, pretending to pay respects to someone I’d lost.
What I was really doing was watching the funerals take place, to determine which one I could return to and discard Rex.
I finally found the perfect one, James Braxton. He was buried yesterday and his gravesite was near the back of the cemetery. Only one woman attended the funeral, and she didn’t look too broken up about losing the guy.
As a matter of fact, I overheard her tell the priest that she was catching the next flight back home.
Perfect.
Mentally returning to the here and now, I let out a heavy sigh. Carefully, I examined the dark blue sheet that I had used to roll Rex up in, then double-checked that the duct tape still held everything secure.
There were no rips or tears, and all seemed in order.
The rope that I wrapped around his lower legs to make him easier to pull was still intact as well. I re-tightened my grip on the rope in my hand and we were off.
Setting my sights on a giant headstone about ten feet away, that read, “Here Lies Alice, a beloved daughter, wife and friend.” I quietly cheered when I passed it.
According to the rules of the game I’d created to help me pass the time and cure my boredom, I’d just scored 25 points. If a headstone stated “beloved”, “deeply missed”, or “gone too soon”, then I was rewarded with 25 points.
So far, almost every headstone had some variation of it, and I was up to 300 points. If I made it to 500, I would win a new purse, dress and heels, courtesy of the money I found in Rex’s wallet.
Playing this game fueled my motivation to continue and offered me a sliver of entertainment. It shifted my attention from the monotonous task at hand to the thrill of hiding my little secret. And this secret would have to stay hidden. If my sister Clara knew I’d killed again, she would freak out, even though it was only Rex.
Clara wasn’t a fan of Rex because sometimes he could be abusive. Slapping me when he was angry, or yelling at me around his friends, but that didn’t bother me.
Maybe from the outside looking in, I’m sure everyone thought I was the one in an abusive relationship. Like I was some helpless victim to a vicious predator, but in reality, Rex was the one in danger… he just didn’t know it yet.
Anyway he wasn’t always horrible, but he definitely had his moments.
Immediately, I located a new headstone at a short distance and propelled myself forward, feeling disappointed once I made it. “Here Lies Al” wasn’t exactly loving.
0 points scored.
I pulled Rex’s body up and over a small hill, knocking his head into a couple of tombstones. The distinct thuds, the only noise in a peaceful night, reminded me of the sounds his hand made every time it connected with my face.
Abusive prick.
Anyway, Rex wasn’t all bad. I loved his daring, adventurous nature and we had good times together. Such as the time we robbed a man with a bad toupee, flattened the tires of a guy who thought his flashy sports car was better than ours, or when we played in Rex’s rock band.
He played guitar, while I pretended I could play the drums. I was awful.
Rex and the rest of the band only dealt with it because they said I served my purpose as eye candy on stage, and I dealt with their chauvinistic insult because their parties were the best for pickpocketing guests.
A sound rustled somewhere up ahead and I stopped, convinced the jig was up.
Wasting no time switching to fight mode, I slid one hand into my pocket to touch my gun, and traced my tongue over the covered razor blade I kept tucked between my back molars and cheek.
Clara still hated that I kept a blade in my mouth, but it comforted me, and with all the sickos in the world nowadays, I had to protect myself.
With one hand still clutching the rope, I relaxed my arm and waited. Either I would need to bury two bodies tonight or…
Meow.
My heart melted. The cutest black cat with emerald-green eyes, peeked its head from behind a small bush and stared at me.
No, it did more than stare.
It examined me, tilting its head to the side, ears perked up, twitching slightly as it tried to determine if I was friend or foe.
Our eyes remained locked on one another, and I felt a pang of sadness as the cat further revealed itself. Its sleek fur shimmered beautifully in the moonlight, but the cat was too thin. He had no home, no safety and was apparently out here hunting for its next meal.
“Hi” I said quietly, as if I were talking to a baby.
I eased the rope down onto the ground and reached into my gun free pocket to withdraw a granola bar. I planned to eat it on the way back to the car after Rex was tucked away, but I think the cat needed it more.
Peeling the wrapper away, I took several steps back and to the left, placing the bar on the ground quietly before returning to my original position beside Rex.
I didn’t want the cat to feel he would need to choose between his safety or dinner. The cat continued to watch me for several moments, before looking over at the bar, back to me again, then back at the bar.
With its head straightened, the cat landed on an answer. I was a friend, at least for now.
Carefully, making its way to the bar, the cat pushed it around a few times with tiny paws, as if it were some prey only playing dead.
It looked at me once more.
“I assure you,” I said to the cat. “That bar is as dead as Rex here.”
I kicked my dead boyfriend for emphasis and the cat seemed to understand because it greedily took a bite.
I watched a few seconds longer, smiling like a little kid, before retrieving the rope from the ground and resuming my task.
I loved cats. Their watchful eyes, independence, and self-assuredness were traits I admired and understood. Cats were a reminder of the importance of trusting oneself and embracing individuality.
The irony wasn’t lost on me that I could have used some of that discretion and individuality when I decided to seriously date Rex.
I mean, when it came to his personality, Rex definitely had a temper. On top of that, he spent all of his free time either getting high or broadcasting his delusions of being a big shot in a rock band to anyone who would listen. Not to mention, Rex had a rap sheet longer than my kill list, which is really saying something.
He was nothing like my first and only other boyfriend, Nathan, who was sweet, chivalrous, and physically weaker than me. The last part, is very important. I let him win when we wrestled and happily played the damsel in distress every time he wanted to be the hero in our relationship.
Yup, Nathan was blindly in love and devoted.
I missed him a lot and now I understood it was because I loved him and I never thought I could love anyone besides my sister and grandmother.
I paused.
Grandma.
The woman who raised us, tried to protect us and, ironically enough, was the reason the cops located and arrested me for Alexander’s murder. It wasn’t grandmas’s fault though; it was my own.
Shortly after killing asshole Alex, Clara and I fled the country to ensure the authorities did not easily find me. I left grandma a large sum of money to keep her safe and continue her care.
However, upon one of Clara’s routine phone call check-ins, we learned that grandma was sick and most of the money had gone to medical bills.
So what did we do? Returned to be by the side of the woman who was like a mother to us, of course.
All the while doing what we could to lie low. Unfortunately, a nosy neighbor caught sight of me one evening and called the cops. I think she believed there would be a reward involved for her heroics. If I ever get my hands on her, I swear.
Anyway, Grandma passed a few months before my trial began and I took that as a kind of mercy. I didn’t want her to have to experience the emotional turmoil or witness what punishments may await me.
Tonight was the first time in months that I’d even thought about her. Too occupied keeping my murderous impulses under control, I guess. But I do miss her and missing someone once again reminded me of Nathan.
It wasn’t until my time on house arrest awaiting the fate of my case eight months ago that even that bit of astonishing information made its way to the forefront of my mind. Nothing like the looming possibility of a life sentence to make you wish you’d done certain things differently.
For clarification, I still would have ended Alexander’s life, but I also would have told Nathan I loved him. He was my one and only and every guy I met for the rest of my life would be nothing more than a placeholder. Sadly, I would never see him again.
The path had narrowed and the limited light from the moon peeking through the trees was no longer doing as great a job of illuminating the way.
This meant good news and bad. If I remember correctly, I was almost at my destination. However, I would have to go down a very steep hill first. This was the part I was dreading all night.
Pulling a body uphill was easier to manage. Going downhill, with the weight of Rex pushing against me, would likely propel us faster than I wanted to go.
As I took my next few steps, I could feel the unevenness as the ground made a subtle, yet unmistakable decline.
Here we go.
I turned sideways, moving laterally down the hill as I pulled Rex along. For further security, I lowered myself and placed both hands on his lower half to prevent him from shifting down too quickly.
This isn’t so bad.
The awkward one, two-step crab walk I was performing was doing the trick. I moved along easily and even spotted a headstone a slight distance away that helped me score another 25 points.
Only a little more to go.
The downward shift intensified as I neared the bottom of the hill. I bent my knees more to help keep my balance and our steady momentum.
A little more.
Then, things went from smooth to shaky as I stepped on a small pile of rocks, that almost caused my demise.
“Oh, shit.”
I lost my footing, fell on my ass, and slid the rest of the way down the hill. Nevertheless, I did not release that rope. Rex and I continued our descent down the hill, tumbling, twisting, and spinning all the way to the bottom.
His stiff body bounced around so much that I was certain if he weren’t dead before we started this, he was definitely dead now.
Moments later, I came to an abrupt stop as I returned to level ground.
I got to my feet, annoyed and spitting out what may have been a fly that found its way into my mouth somewhere along the rocky ride. A cool breeze caressed my left buttock, which brought to my attention the large tear in the back of my expensive pink sweatpants.
“Damn it, Rex! This is all your fault.”
I kicked him once and then twice for good measure directly in his head, which was now fully exposed because the sheet had torn away, revealing his entire right side.
The force of my blow made a loud cracking sound. I assumed it was because rigor mortis had already set in and it appeared that my strike had not only broken but permanently dislocated Rex’s nose.
It was now pointing sideways, making his once boyish good looks appear grotesque.
Glancing up the hill, I spotted pieces of the microfiber material littered everywhere. I’d have to be extra diligent in picking them up on my way out.
One thing was for sure. Even if I didn’t score enough points to win this game, I would still use the money I took from Rex to replace my current outfit.
Putting an end to my tantrum, I yanked Rex harder than necessary and walked the remaining distance to my destination with dignity and purpose.
This ex of mine had already caused me too many issues. The abuse, the mood swings and the ego were enough trouble when he was alive. If I didn’t let that bother me then, I certainly wouldn’t let him steal my joy now.
The reason I hadn’t killed him sooner was because I was supposed to be lying low, per Clara’s request. It also didn’t hurt that the money I made from those that he gave me access to made it hard to walk away.
My goal was to date him for six months before I put him in his grave. We’d made it to three and I’d been able to steal $35,000.
Yes, for that type of money, I’d continue to play defenseless for three more months, then given that narcissistic bastard the gift of a slow death in the end.
But of course, Rex had to go be Rex. Mouthing off about how my mother didn’t love me and that I was trash. He even stated that he was better than me because he was the leader in a band and going somewhere in life.
Not likely.
Anyway, the kicker was when he threatened to hide all my credit cards so that I would, per his words, “stop wasting money on ridiculous looking clothes and shoes.”
I was livid, and his time was up.
Talk about my mom, go ahead, try to embarrass me with rude outbursts, whatever, but do not insult my style! Especially when I was already in such an irritable mood.
Clara was on her period, but I was always the one who suffered. She kept me up all night complaining about cramps, crying over nothing, and eating all of my snacks. I swear her period caused me more suffering than it did her! I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to us sharing a room.
Either way, Rex got mouthy, and I was already seeing red, so I stabbed him in the back while he watched a basketball game. Then, continued stabbing him until exhaustion won out.
Replaying the thought made me giggle. When I slid down behind him on the couch, he actually thought I was about to give him a back massage.
Fucking moron.
75 points later, we arrived at James Braxton’s gravesite.
After removing the rest of the sheet that covered Rex, I retrieved the shovel that I had packed tightly alongside him. Then, I started the somber task of removing the dirt from the freshly dug grave.
The shovel slid in easily, and sweat trickled down my forehead as I dug deeper and deeper into the earth. Once satisfied with how far I’d gotten, I climbed out, dragged Rex over and kicked him in.
A loud thump sounded as he joined James in his final resting place.
I leaned on the shovel to catch my breath and admired my handy work. Rex wasn’t in the plot as deep as James, but the depth should easily ensure that he stays hidden.
With renewed determination to get this done, I began filling the hole with the displaced soil and then froze.
Should I say something? Maybe give a quick speech? Tell a funny story? Or even jump in and check his pockets once more to be certain I didn’t miss any money?
“Hmm, let’s see,” I said aloud.
Before I began, I took a moment to recall all the popular speeches and quotes that had unknowingly become ingrained in my memory over the years. I only needed one that would make me sound inspirational and powerful.
With my shoulders squared and my good judgement intact, I said the first one that came to mind.
“We are gathered here today to—”
I stopped and shook my head. No, that was for a wedding not a funeral. I tossed that one aside and started again.
“You have the right to remain—”
Ah hell, those are the Miranda rights.
I tightened my hold on the shovel and made one last attempt, by saying the first thing that came to mind.
“I wish I could turn back the hands of time to love you again. If only—”
No, no, no.
That was a lyric from one of my favorite songs because it made me think about Nathan. It was definitely not fitting for Rex.
Melancholy washed over me. I liked for everything to be perfect and this was not perfect. I couldn’t think of anything to say about Rex and I hadn’t scored enough points to win the graveyard game!
Hmm, maybe I could stick around a little longer and search for more points?
I shook my head, I needed to get going, points or not. With a shrug, I pushed the shovel into the pile of dirt I’d removed and began refilling the hole. It wasn’t until I was almost done that I realized I’d started whistling. It was a song that Rex wrote and played at every opening concert.
Look at that! I found something fitting, after all. I decided tonight was a good night. There was no need to win at the game I’d started for myself.
I’d already won.
The night was beautiful. Rex was dead and buried, and I think there was some leftover lasagna in the fridge from what Barbara made for dinner last night. If that wasn’t a sign that all was right in the world I didn’t know what was, not to mention the guy in my basement wasn’t going to torture himself, so I had work to do
Therefore, I slung the shovel over my shoulder and started the walk back to the car cheerfully humming the tune of Rex’s song the entire way.
END OF CHAPTER
The Darkest Damsel: Book 2 in the Twisted Series
