The First Cut: A Dark Psychological Thriller (Gushers Series Book 1)

by Chuck Buda

  Ryan heard Zoe’s yells echo in his head. He punched his temple to quiet her shouts. She screamed at him to clean up the body and spread out her remains so nobody could tie it back to them. She threatened him with violence if he didn’t take care of things exactly as she wanted. What disturbed him the most, wasn’t Zoe’s threats to cut him and kill him. It wasn’t even her going to the police or the group and blaming him for Gina’s murder. Even though she implied nobody would believe Ryan since his car was full of her blood. It had been the fucking murder scene.

  It was the threat of cutting him off from fucking her.

  Ryan wanted Zoe so badly. She had dangled her pussy in front of him like a carrot but he still hadn’t gotten it yet. Zoe blew him. And when he finished ridding Gina’s body as she demanded, she then demanded he fuck her ass. And he had no problem doing it. He got hard instantaneously and he did her right in the blood-soaked back seat of his car. He chastised himself for being such a monster.

  It was so delicious.

  Ryan’s appetites controlled his every thought and purpose. Each day. He was a slave to his primordial urges and had been since hitting puberty. Even after dismembering a girl he had known for a long time wasn’t enough to deter his raging hard-on.

  Ryan swerved in the road as another motorist leaned on the horn and shot him the middle finger. Ryan didn’t even bother to look at them. Ordinarily, he would return the Jersey salute and engage in an all-out battle of road rage with the other driver. Today, Ryan was swirling in the abyss and all other fragments of the universe were outside his line of sight.

  He wanted to call Todd and tell him everything. He needed to talk to someone about it before he killed himself for his role in the crime. But talking about it would only lead to more people learning what happened. He would get caught and spend the rest of his life in prison. And that wasn’t an option.

  Ryan had to figure out how to pin it on Zoe. She was the one who committed the murder, she should do the time. If they got caught. If nobody found out, then what would he do? Ryan shrugged to himself as he drove on. Maybe he could bury it inside. After all, why should he feel guilty? He didn’t kill Gina. He just tried to bang two chicks and it went south. Who would fault a young, good-looking guy like himself for trying to bust a nut with two hot chicks? Nobody. Not even a jury filled with old housewives, he shouted in his head.

  He punched the steering wheel again. He repeated the mantra in his head, over and over again. Bury it inside. Bury it inside. Bury it inside.

  Like you buried Gina all around the county?

  “Shut the fuck up!” Ryan shouted over the blaring radio.

  He needed time to figure all this shit out. He was afraid he wouldn’t have time though. And while he figured it out, Ryan would continue to reap what Zoe sowed. He would fuck her. Hard. And often. As much as he could, Ryan would get what was coming to him. He knew if he went to prison, he’d never see a beautiful pink pussy again. Ever. So he might as well enjoy the ride while it lasted.

  Images of walking with his hands cuffed behind his back played in his mind’s eye. The slam of the cell doors and the smell of dirty, dangerous men all around him. He shook his head a bunch of times to clear the scenes.

  The next exit on the New Jersey Turnpike was approaching. Ryan decided to get off and turn his car north. He would head home. And bury it deep inside.

  Chapter 21

  Zoe had awoken late after the long evening of ritual sacrifice. She had eventually given up helping Ryan get over his “issues” with the disposal of Gina’s remains. She forced him to bring her home as she left him with the final task of sopping up the blood from the back seat of his car.

  She smiled at how magical it had all been. The control. The seduction. The power.

  Zoe glanced at the clock on her dresser. It was after eleven in the morning. She never slept this late but all the excitement had sapped her of energy. Her sleep had been the most restful she could recall in years.

  Thoughts of Gina bleeding out while Ryan climaxed in her dead mouth brought a flush to Zoe’s cheeks. She lowered her fingers to her sex, beginning to feed the arousal which washed over her. Zoe preferred masturbation in the morning as opposed to night. The sensations were stronger when she was refreshed after sleep.

  Her cell phone vibrated on the night stand. Zoe grunted and removed her hands from below her waist. She stared at the name which flashed on the screen.

  Jordyn.

  Zoe answered the phone without a word. She chose to wait silently for Jordyn to realize the phone wasn’t ringing anymore.

  “Zoe?” Jordyn finally spoke up.

  “Sorry. I was still sleeping.” She lied easily.

  “So...last night was interesting, huh?” Jordyn’s tone sounded confused. It was like she was on the edge of excitement and confusion.

  Zoe grinned. She swallowed the pasty taste in her mouth and moaned. “It was wonderful.”

  Jordyn laughed on the other end. The laughter more nervous now. “You really took control of the meeting. It was something to see.”

  Zoe bristled at Jordyn’s trepidation. “If you have something to say, Jordyn, I suggest you say it.”

  Silence filled the line.

  “I’m sorry if I upstaged you last night. It wasn’t my intention.” Zoe broke the silence with her lie. She had meant to grab all the attention and she fed off the power of it.

  “No, it’s nothing like that. It was very...exciting.” Jordyn panted.

  Zoe wondered what Jordyn was digging around for. Was she really calling to compliment Zoe’s performance? Or was she fishing for compliments for her own ego.

  “It was a lot of fun. I’m not going to lie. But you are still the beauty of the ball, Jordyn. I could never take that away from you.” More lies. It was so easy for Zoe to manipulate others.

  “Zoe...I was...very turned on last night.” Jordyn whispered so softly Zoe had to strain to hear the words.

  Zoe shifted the phone from one ear to the other. She suddenly felt emboldened with Jordyn’s admission. It was sincere, otherwise she wouldn’t have said it so quietly. It embarrassed her to admit the arousal.

  “Thank you, Jordyn.” Zoe saw the opportunity to dominate and it was too irresistible. “Last night was just the beginning. I have big plans for The First Cut. And you will be a large part of those plans.” She knew Jordyn wanted limelight. She always wanted to be the center of attention.

  “Really? I’d like that.” Jordyn sounded more relaxed. Willing.

  “Yes, there’s too much power for one woman to handle. I need help. And you are the one I want to be by my side.” Zoe made sure to draw Jordyn in with the request while maintaining the posture of control and power.

  Jordyn was excited. She blabbered on about how the ceremony had been so much more than she had ever expected. Jordyn originally wanted to form a group to make other kids in school jealous. Instead, she found herself captivated by the dark overtones and the sensuality. Jordyn praised Zoe for the use of the “fake blood” because it made the whole ritual more macabre. She looked forward to doing something similar with Todd.

  Zoe made note of Jordyn’s desire for future reference. She paid attention to what people said and how they said it. Little nuggets of truth provided invaluable insights into motivations and limits. Anything Zoe could use to exploit situations for her own gain. She smiled to herself as she imagined Todd having his way with Jordyn before the group.

  She promised Jordyn she would work her into the plans sooner rather than later now that she knew Jordyn wanted to be a contributing member. Zoe reiterated her gratefulness for Jordyn’s friendship and enthusiasm. She could tell Jordyn was eating it all up on the other end of the line. Zoe gushed over Jordyn’s body and the fact the boys all wanted her. Jordyn giggled, enjoying the feedback and drunk with self-satisfaction.

  Zoe told Jordyn she had to get dressed for a family luncheon which didn’t actually exist. Jordyn let her go. Zoe placed the phone on the night stand.

>   “Now, where was I?”

  Zoe spoke to the empty room as she slid her hands below the sheets. The warmth of her control spread from her sex to her limbs. Zoe was soaked and aroused more than she had ever felt before. She rolled onto her belly, continuing the frolicking. She liked to use this position because it was subservient which she found extremely hot. Even though she never wanted to relinquish control with another partner.

  Images of the hot tub and the naked friends ravishing each other made her sweat. She saw bloody water bubbling in the red lights. The writhing bodies entwined with the blood and the semen. Moans of ecstatic dreams and hot breathing pounded in her ears. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she hoped Jordyn’s mother was in a window, watching them, enjoying what she saw, and wishing she could join in. Zoe wasn’t a lesbian by any stretch of the imagination. But she found women’s beauty to be pleasing to the eye and to the touch. Jordyn’s mother was on a whole other stratosphere of attractiveness. Zoe’s thoughts lingered while her fingers explored. Deeper. More frenzied.

  The room exploded around her. Lights blinding her eyes and sounds of rapture invading the peacefulness. Zoe’s orgasm trumped all which had come before it. She gasped for air and buried her face in the pillow. The arteries on her neck thumping against her skin.

  She eased herself down and shivered as the small tremors worked their way through her abdomen, forcing twitches in her arms and legs. Zoe tried to control her breathing. She felt spent and wonderful. The magic of last night had continued into the morning. Zoe smiled into the pillow as her day began on the right foot.

  But she had so much more work to do. The First Cut demanded her undivided attention if it were to blossom and unfold into the greatest achievement of her life. Zoe wanted The First Cut badly.

  And she would stop at nothing to get it.

  Chapter 22

  Spencer waited to begin until his parents left the house. Every Saturday afternoon, they would go buy coffee and then either window shop at the Garden State Plaza Mall, or drive around to the local nurseries. They loved to browse exotic plants and flowers. Spencer thought his parents were weird. Their weekly habit never yielded results. They had money but were content to shop without buying anything.

  After he watched their car back out of the driveway, Spencer got to work filling a small mason jar with his ejaculate. Using Internet porn, he was easily able to collect two samples in less than an hour. Spencer swirled the lidded jar, watching the legs of sperm slowly drool along the glass.

  Spencer had been a fan of the occult since the fifth grade. He had discovered a book by Robert Anton Wilson called Cosmic Trigger. In it, the author delved into many facets of the occult and secret organizations. As a fan of science fiction and fantasy, the concepts intrigued him. As an intelligent mind, advanced far beyond his classmates, the information mesmerized him. It led to weekend long retreats in the public library to learn more about occult practices. The Internet revealed more options. Underground websites, chat rooms, and dozens of Aleister Crowley books later, Spencer knew enough to get started.

  He had been fired up when Zoe came to him with ideas for The First Cut. She knew Spencer was well versed in arcane knowledge and eccentric lore. Zoe wanted powerful rituals like witchcraft to harness a force she could use to get what she wanted. Spencer didn’t even bother asking Zoe WHAT she wanted. He was in. Without question. He finally had a chance to put into practice all he had learned and dreamed about since he was eleven years old.

  Spencer steered the rituals away from Zoe’s rudimentary understanding of paganism toward more esoteric practices. Spencer had believed each occult organization had its draws, yet each failed to capitalize on the strengths of each other to reach beyond the ancient traditions. Spencer believed a new practice could be developed, using the powerful rituals, while eliminating the less useful, noisy tenets.

  And now he would prove it.

  Spencer stared at himself in the full length mirror behind his bedroom door. His eyes lingered on his scalp for a long period. He rubbed a gentle hand along the smooth ridge of his skull. A satisfied grin spread across his lips. Spencer’s parents had not seen him since he shed his follicles. He knew they would be shocked but he didn’t suspect any issues beyond their initial reaction. His parents gave him plenty of room to grow and explore. They understood his need to be free due to his heightened intellect. They rarely got in the way or created barriers to his desires. Yet, he wasn’t spoiled.

  Spencer just worked harder. He wanted to develop into the best he could be.

  THIS IS THE LAW!

  He turned to his bed to retrieve the sword. His father had collected many ancient weapons over his lifetime. A fan of history, Spencer’s father collected pistols, daggers, swords, helmets...anything used to defeat enemies and save nations. One of the pride possessions was a Freemason’s sword used in World War I by one of the Grand Masters of the Grand Lodge of Scotland. The blade was spotless and honed to an edge which could split an atom. The sword was rumored to have been used in secret ceremonies. Spencer had had his eye on the weapon since he heard the tale.

  And it was in his hands.

  Spencer grabbed another mason jar. This one was larger than the one he used to catch his semen. It was twice the size. And he would use it to collect his blood.

  Spencer closed his eyes and whispered the ancient words he had taught himself. The whispers were spiked with louder chants at critical refrains in the prayers. Spencer felt a surge of force in his veins. It was like his blood vessels yearned to release the sacred fluids into the unblessed chalice. He sliced the sword along his inner thigh, where a significant wound would be hidden from the eyes of his parents and others who might question how he came to be cut. The blade was so sharp, Spencer never felt a thing as it bit into his skin and breached the layers. No pain either because the gap was so fine.

  The blood flowed rapidly. Spencer hurried the jar against his thigh, mumbling more words of conjuring. The dark beach towel he had lined the floor with captured the stray drips which flowed over the edge of the jar. But he captured most of his blood.

  The ritual ended a few minutes later. The large jar was half full of crimson fluids warm with his body temperature. Spencer settled the jar on the towel and stuck a strip of duct tape upon the gash. The wound was deep enough that it would require stitches. He wanted to stop the bleeding temporarily so he could secure the jar and tidy up his room before his parents came home. Once Spencer had finished the clean-up, he would stitch himself to avoid medical bills and more questions about the wound.

  He spun the lid down tight, shaking the jar like he did the semen. The dark red blood left tears in the jar, like a glass of red wine swirled by an enthusiast. Spencer was glad he finished it before anyone interrupted him. Going forward, the ritual would require other donors. The first one was the most important which is why he had to handle it himself. It would be far easier to collect the others down the road.

  Spencer hid the jars in his closet behind stacks of old books and an old guitar case. He sat on the beach blanket in the middle of his room and opened the sewing kit. He burned the end of the needle, then thread it with the fine fabric strand. Spencer took a deep breath before tearing the duct tape from his thigh. It came off with a resounding scratching sound, and the blood started to flow again.

  He began the grim task of sewing himself up. The pain was sharp each time the needle dug into his flesh. But he practiced self control and buried the pain inside. It was temporal and not important in the grand scheme of what he would try to achieve. Spencer had lofty goals for The First Cut. And he knew those goals would conflict with what Zoe seemed to want.

  Spencer didn’t care.

  Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.

  Love is the law, love under will.

  Chapter 23

  Aiden needed to get out of the house. He had been locked away in his room all afternoon, doing homework and avoiding his parents. Mostly, avoiding his parents. Aiden knew To
dd was at a college baseball game with his family. And he figured Ryan was out chasing tail somewhere. So Aiden’s options for making plans to go out were limited. He really didn’t want to get together with Spencer. Not alone, anyway.

  He called Leah and asked what she was up to. He wanted to sound casual, not desperate for an excuse to get out of the house. But he was desperate. And he could think of nobody else he would rather spend time with.

  Aiden and Leah had agreed to look out for each other when they met this morning. The conversation left Aiden giddy with hope. Leah admitted she was a virgin. And she sent signals there might be a chance for them. As a couple. At least, Aiden had walked away with that impression.

  Leah was chilling out at home. She hadn’t heard from Zoe or Jordyn all day. She had resigned herself to a quiet evening with her books. Maybe watching a movie on cable television. Aiden got the impression he was ruining her plans to be a home-body. He apologized for bothering her. She laughed and invited him over if he wanted to escape. Aiden didn’t need a second invite.

  Mr. Fisher answered the door. He pointed up the stairs, telling Aiden that Leah was in her room. Mr. Fisher knew they had been friends for years so he had no reason to read Aiden a riot act about being alone in his daughter’s room. Aiden ran up the stairs and knocked on Leah’s door. She welcomed him in, the smell of body spray and girlie sweetness filled his nostrils. He loved her smells, especially the shampoo she used. He would inhale deeply whenever she flipped her hair over her shoulder.

  She was all dressed up for him. Leah wore black sweatpants and a lime green tee shirt with a message stenciled across the front. It read, “Glow in the Dark.” Her red hair was pulled up in a tight knot on the top of her head. And she wore no make-up. If there was any doubt about Leah’s intentions tonight, they were confirmed by her appearance. And still, Aiden thought she looked beautiful.

  She invited him to sit on her bed with her. A tattered copy of a classic novel lay askew on her bedspread. All her stuffed animals were piled on the floor. Aiden was glad because he had seen her bed when it was covered with her animals. There would be one square foot left for them to share.