Tuesday, January 18, 2005


     Dropping the knife down on the ground, landing in a pool of curdled blood, David takes a step back to view his work. “I’m done,” he says in a crazed voice. He takes a sigh of relief knowing that his task is done.

     David thinks back to when his journey began. A time of turmoil and joy at the same time. Five years ago today, he met his current wife Kyra. David, a plastic surgeon, had decided to go back to church and find the Lord again. Little did he know that his life would be turned upside down within a few weeks.

     Kyra, an unemployed homemaker, was joining a friend to a church that she had only heard of in the past, a place where denomination did not define your faith. She had no idea that the man of her dreams would be attending the same day she was.

     David saw Kyra from across the room and he walked over to meet her. She was the most magnificent woman he had ever seen. He introduced himself, and during the service they talked and talked for hours it seemed, until service was over. They went to lunch together and their relationship blossomed into a love affair that would last a lifetime. They would be married only six months later, which their families both tho ught was too fast.

     Kyra had two children from a previous marriage. Their biological father, Jake, was a drunk and was rarely employed. About a month into David and Kyra’s marriage, Jake started phoning the house in a drunken stumper, “I want to see my kids,” he would say. “I want to see my kids,” over and over again for hours on end. It would start again the next evening, “I want to see my kids,” he would say. They called the police for harassment with no help. The police said that since he had not threatened them or the kids or caused any physical harm, their hands were tied.

     David came home from work late one evening to find Kyra huddled by the front door, barely anything on and shivering in fear of something. She stared blankly at the wall as David tried to get her to come out of her trance with no luck. A quick run of the house, David discovers that the kids are gone. He called 911 and she was rushed to the hospital and an APB was put out on Jake.

     Kyra admitted to being raped repeatedly with a blunt object and by Jake. A rape kit was used and semen, later to be found as Jake’s, was recovered. David knew where Jake would be, he always goes there whenever he screws up. The police wouldn’t find him or they would take forever. David had to take care of this himself. He went home and grabbed his bag he took to work everyday.

     Jake had a lake house by the river. Not everyone knew that there was an underground bunker that he used at times to escape from the authorities. He wasn’t going to escape this time though.

     David drove towards that river and parked just off the road near the entrance to the lake house. The entrance to the bunker was underneath the boat dock at the edge of the river. There was just enough room there to fit a cement frame and a six foot cast iron door. Kyra had told David about this secret hideaway many times before. He had to be quiet so Jake wouldn’t hear him crawl inside. The locking mechanism was rusty and was recently sprayed with oil to lube the gears. It was just enough to keep the lock from making noise, but the door was another monster. A loud ear-piercing squeal came from the door, as it swung open. He entered the passage into a dark tunnel. It smelled of rancid mild and a distinct smell of sulfur, remembering that Jake made homemade gunpowder.

     He made his way down the corridor towards a faint light that illuminated another door. This door was partly open and there was a brighter light coming from the other side. Peering inside, David discovered Jake taking a nap on an old run down brown recliner. It lay in the middle of the main room. The walls were made of cement and were bare of any decorations or paint. A small table stood beside the recliner with newspapers strewn atop. To the left was a passage into what looked like a makeshift bedroom. The end of a bed could be seen just beyond the walls of the passageway. To the right was a small kitchen with a double-sink, refrigerator and microwave. On the floor was something he did not want to believe.

     Making his way past Jake snoring on the recliner, David snuck into the kitchen where his eyes deceived him. He stared at the floor for a lifetime it seemed. His breath got heavy, he clenched his fists and his right hand brought the black bag into his line of vision.

     Reaching into his black bag, David pulled out a scalpel with a newly replaced blade. The light from the kitchen reflected off the blade into his eyes and he decided on a plan of action. He cut the cord from the back of the fridge and unplugged it from the wall. He would use this to bind the hands of a monster in the other room. Stepping behind the recliner, reaching for each hand he quickly grabbed both at the same time using the cord to securely bind his hands together.

     David stepped around into Jake’s eyesight, raised the scalpel in front of his face and smiled. “You sick fuck. Why did you have to slice the throats of your own kids? I never did understand you, but I wont have to worry about that anymore. I’m here to end you.” Jake kicked his right leg up towards the hand holding the knife, but David was anticipating such a move. He grabbed the leg by the ankle and with one swift slice; he cut the tendons behind the knee, immobilizing the leg. David grabbed the other leg, but Jake struggled against him. Like a wrestling move, David turned and straddled Jake’s leg and slowly cut the flesh behind the knee. Jake screamed as blood dripped onto the floor in a pool of red. Jake was shrieking like a banshee, but David ignored the howls and took freedom in his work knowing that his victim was helpless now.

     David took the next hour slowly cutting the skin from Jakes face and upper torso in small one-inch pieces. He wanted to inflict as much pain as he could, showing Jake just how much pain he inflicted on David’s family. Jake had a very strong pain threshold and kept screaming for two hours. After finally passing out from the pain, David took one final stab into the lower abdomen, quickly bringing his wrist up to the mid-chest line. Jake entrails poured out onto his lap and onto the floor.

     David stood up and takes a step back to view his work. “I’m done,” he says, dropping the knife onto the ground in a pool of curdled blood. He turned toward the kitchen and walked to the bodies of his children. They lay side-by-side, throats cut from ear to ear and tongues pulled out through the neck onto the chest like a necktie. David knelt in front of the kids and raised his hands in prayer. He then lay in-between the kids and cried for their salvation.