As the days went by either the butler or HE would come. Both would tend to my wounds. As the pain became less I made a request to get some fresh air. The butler was slim built, her hair was short and was trimmed on both sides. Whatever wasn't trimmed off was dyed green. Her nails were painted and she had a myriad of tattoos. Roses to barb wires to cakes. She has a Boston accent and her knuckles show telltale signs of being a bare knuckle boxer. I explained my cluster phobia. She pulled out a wheelchair and I was hauled out to view the garden. There was a gazebo. Different coloured of roses, Calla lilies, chrysanthemums and dahlias. There were trellises on which jasmine plants were wrapping itself to create what appears to be a doorway to a different world. A world where only love had a place. The world may have ended everywhere else but here it felt like someone was creating a new beginning. She felt it was best to go indoors. Suddenly the wheelchair was taken inside and locked the door for good measure. She asked me if I needed anything. My request was simple where is the library. She took me through the living room towards the kitchen area. I saw an old elevator.
The door was made of metal that placed crisscross. Each intersection was held by a bolt. I watched as she pushed the door aside and the metal went from diagonal to straight as arrow. She pushed the chair inside and closed the door so it was crisscrossed again. There was a crank handle that she grabbed and started turning. With each turn the elevator went up an inch. It took effort on her part to reach the second floor. She stabilized the crank handle with something and pulled me out. I saw paintings of royalty and gentry alike. There were a few busts here and there. Finally she stopped and pushed two doors in the opposite directions to reveal a breathtaking collection. I was guided in and given a book written by Machiavelli. I requested a mug of chocolate with extra marshmallows and some cookies. Then I dove into the book till I reached the middle. I looked up to see that she was watching me. Amusement was apparent as she tried to figure out how to ask a simple question. Finally she went for it, "Are you really a serial killer?" I shrugged, "I am wanted for murder in twelve states. Every single person is either a missing person who turned up dead or was killed in a crowded place. I go after people who are above the law. The ones whom the police don't know exist or have tried to punish but were ordered to release them. I have gone after human traffickers, pedophiles, humiliation ritual fanatics and other serial killers. My most famous kill is the philanthropist Estelle Florence." Her face showed genuine awe.
She asked, "You don't seem too deterred by your current circumstances. I take it you have been captured before." I answered, "My brother felt it was best to trap me in a glass cage till he broke me. He wanted me to murder someone that mattered to me. He believed people like us shouldn't have a family. Since we are passing the buck to the next generation. I came from a family of serial killers. My father and both of my uncles have killed innocent people. They broke me as a child. My first actual kill was when I was twelve. I used a rifle to kill a pedestrian. I was forced to kill because my father made it clear if I didn't comply he would kill my mother without batting an eyelash. I hold on to any goodness left in my soul. I hope there is redemption in my future." I requested a bathroom break and was allowed to do so. Afterwards I sat down to read again. The book was pulled out of my hands and laid on the table. I was taken downstairs through the same crank handle elevator. She made me hot chocolate filled with marshmallows and cookies. As I enjoyed my treat she continued with the inquiry. I threw a kitchen knife towards the dartboard and hit the bullseye. She smiled, "Wow! A fellow knife girl. Ok" I smiled, "It was my favorite since I imagined hurting my father abusing mom when he got drunk." She was thunderstruck.
I asked her if she was a sexual abuse victim. She has the obvious signs. The social distance and the defensive stance and tightening fist at the slightest provocation. The eyes that seem to scan every portal for possible threats. She asked me what I would do if she was one. I grinned, "He would be dangling by his ankles. I would skin him first then chain his body to a column and unleash rottweilers. To make sure they eat him alive I would put pieces of meat. I have done that before. My friend Tanya was abused by her father. I punish him by feeding him to his own dogs. They were starved for days so they wouldn't be nice dogs. They behaved like mad dogs. His screams were a delight." She pressed on, "What's the weirdest thing you did as a serial killer?" I took a deep breath before I blurted, "I killed my uncle's plus sized girlfriend. Then I hollowed her out to make room so I could hide inside her. After he took the corpse to his hideaway. I came out of the body and he was busy making preparations for his next kill." Her eyes popped out their sockets. I said absentmindedly, "I have a medical degree. I have cut open cadavers so it was no different." She asked me if I was at the party as a member of security or as a killer. I answered, "I was there pretending to be security so I could kill her at the opportune moment. Your friend was taken back when I requested that he save his bullets. To be honest I felt a wave of Dysania that day but pushed myself" she tilted and I explained, "Dysania means finding it difficult to get out of bed." She nodded absentmindedly.
The door opened and walked in. A grinned accentuated his handsome features. The butler called out, "Welcome home James. I hope you had fun" I blurted, "You look like you had the urge to do defenestration." His eyebrows fused, "I beg your pardon" I shrugged, "You felt like throwing someone out of a window." He sat down to catch his breath, "not today" I got up slowly and searched the fully loaded fridge. I picked up a packet of thick cut beef bacon, some eggs, a box of bagels, some chilli and cream cheese. I heated a pan add butter and started snipping the chilli so it would infuse the butter. Then I remove the chilli and laid the bagels. In a muffin pan I poured boiling water and crack the egg on a tea strainer. I added a few drops of lemon juice. I tipped an egg in each cup in the pan and cooked it till it was perfect. The bagels laid on the table the bacon was cooked and chopped before it was with cream cheese. Then the bagel was laid on the plate then cream cheese. The egg was placed on top and I snipped a few chives on top. Then I gave one to James and ate the other. I started making noodles. I set the dough to set when a man walked in and he saw James and pointed a gun at him. I casually walked over. He asked me what was wrong with me. I explained, "I am recovering from a gunshot wound." His eyes widen, "Come here" I walked over and he took my hand and tried to leave. I flicked his hand off and sat down.
He made the mistake to insult me. So I picked up a knife and walked over. He thought it was strength in numbers. I quickly slit the main artery in his arm. He lost grip of his weapon. He tried to lunge at me. I cut off his fingers. I slipped my leg between his legs and hooked my foot on his leg and gave a quick tug. He fell down. He moved forward and I pointed the tip upwards as I pushed forward. The knife went through his chin and stopped when it came out the back of his brain. I pulled the knife and started sterilizing the knife. I picked up a cleaver and dissected him. I remember the cannibal that my father catered to. I cut him into manageable pieces and dropped him in a garbage bag. Then I started sterilizing the place. I made a black light using a cellphone, some tape and a few markers. I cleaned up so no forensic team could say there was a murder committed here. I looked out the window and saw a rare and endangered plant. So I went outside and started digging. When I was satisfied I poured the remains and covered it with soil. Then I took one of the plants and laid it on top of the corpse. I reset the soil and reached a garden hose to clean up. Afterwards I went to see two people who were convinced that I was in fact a killer. He asked me, "If you are a killer, why do you organize these charity events. You dedicated every free moment of your life to it." I grinned, "I only kill those deserving. I track my prey. I study them from a distance. I see to which extent they have bamboozled the law. In some cases they were above the law. Mainly due to political connections, wealthy families and so much more. I remove the filth of society so the rest can have a dignified life. There are those with bad luck or just scraping by. I watched as a child how unjust the system was to orphans and the destitute. I promised to do something when I was old enough. I am old enough so here I am."
The butler stared at me. She was confused, "Why did you bury him under a plant?" I smiled, "It is an endangered plant. So digging it up is illegal. I learned how to bury bodies when I was fifteen. My father had a secret girlfriend who used to kill people and used them as fertilizer for her plants. All of them are on the list of plants about to go extinct." She asked, "How did she die?" I recalled, "I took her to the zoo and fed her to lions. I did that when I overheard her plotting kill mom." Both pursed their lips as I made noodles my way. I added butter to a soup pot and added herbs and onions. I sweated them before adding garlic, carrots, celery and turmeric. I stirred till I felt it needed a little more butter and then I added the chicken broth. I added a thawing piece of steak, a few slices of stale bread reconstituted by soaking in milk, an onion, a chili, a few cloves of garlic, some salt, black pepper and two ice cubes in the food processor. I blended it into a paste. Then when the liquid was boiling violently. I added some bok choy, dried mushrooms, spoon the meat paste so they would cook down to be meatballs. I adjusted the salt by adding light soy sauce. I made the noodles and dropped them in the soup. When the noodles were cooked I poured them into bowls. I sprinkled some coriander leaves and made chili oil to drizzle it on top. I served the two before I sat to leave. The butler inquired, "So what now?" I smiled, "I take this incident as a mandatory vacation and leave when James here permits me. When it's time to leave I will develop retrograde amnesia" I happily ate my bowl and the others ate theirs.