by Ian Woodhead
“How fascinating.”
Mrs Harper leaned over me while I wound the handle, tightening the jaws.
“If I had used this method, I would have used a basic tourniquet to suppress the blood flow.” She leaned even closer to the vice. “Oh my word, that is ingenious. The jaws are curved. I’m impressed!”
It took effort not to puff up my chest. She actually gave me a genuine compliment. “Yes. I once used that method too, honey, but I’m not as strong as I once was.”
“No, you never were a healthy child, Melissa.” She picked up a long curved blade. “This is very pretty. I guess you use this to detach the arm?”
“Usually, yes. Well, to cut away the skin and muscle.” I gave her my best condescending smile. How could anyone in our trade not understand basic human anatomy? “I have a saw to cut through the bone.”
“Hmm, it’s a little too fiddly for my liking. I would probably use an axe.”
I took the knife out of her hands. “I find this method a little more precise, honey, not so unprofessional.”
“Each to their own, I guess.”
That was another one to me. Not that I was keeping count. I laid the knife back on the worktop and picked up my hacksaw, watching Mrs Harper’s questioning face, wondering if she was going to ask the obvious. Much to my annoyance, the witch kept that gob of hers tight. “The saw? Oh, you’re right. I know what I just said about using the knife to slice through the skin and muscle.” I glowered at the boy, happy to see that my little outburst involving his head and the worktop hadn't left any lasting damage. The boy was alert as ever. “You see, Mrs Harper, I caught this little ruffian trying to help young David over there to escape.”
I placed the saw against tender skin. “David, I know you’re awake. I just hope you’re happy now. Poor Stuart’s imminent agony is a direct consequence of your action.”
I readied myself and counted down from five. I didn’t even reach number two before Mrs Harper raised her hand like some classroom schoolgirl.
“Sorry, but is there a chance that I might play with Stuart’s hair while you saw?”
The request took me totally by surprise.
I shrugged. “I don’t see why not, honey.” That old girl grew weirder every week.
“Oh, one more thing. Do you not think you should be getting changed first, you’re going to ruin your dress.”
I shrugged again. “You mean this old thing?” The Man really must be smiling on me today, I sensed yet another low blow for me. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, my dear. Something like this might have been the best and most expensive dress in your dead and rotting gran’s house, but this is just some old rag I put on, especially for this operation.”
My fingers gripped Stuart’s upper arm before I put my weight on the saw and slid the blade forward, the teeth effortlessly biting through the flesh. The muffled shrieks threatening to burst through Stuart’s sewn up lips was like music to my ears. It was almost as pleasant as listening to Mrs Harper moan in delight while she ran her bony fingers through the boy’s soft hair. I pulled the saw back, grinning when I found I’d already reached the bone. So, my dear old friend had a bit of a thing for young boys, I never would have guessed that.
I’d always considered her to be sexless. I never remembered her having any boyfriend when she was younger. Perhaps the bitch’s crusty old sponge cave wasn’t as dried up as I always thought. Not really the best thing to consider while I was preparing food so I thought of something a little more pleasant.
I over the arm and sawed through the bone, in a firm but smooth action, not stopping until the teeth reached the flesh on the other side. I then grabbed my knife and cut through the remaining flesh, not really wanting to finish off the job with the saw. As far as I was concerned, David had been punished enough.
Mrs Harper was too busy enjoying the feel of the hair to notice I had stopped. Her fingers were making temporary ringlets in the boy’s golden locks. I picked up my clothes iron, made sure it was still on the highest setting and then wondered if she’d notice if I pressed the plate on those skeletal fingers, or, even better, against her cheek.
She then ruined my little fantasy by opening one eye. Was that a coincidence or was her instinct of self-preservation so finely tuned? I smiled back at her before pressing the plate firmly against the stump. The stink of cooking flesh filled the shed, making my stomach growl. “Now, I think it’s time for that cup of tea, Mrs Harper. I might even have some chocolate cake too.”
The other woman smacked her lips, her fingers walked across the worktop and stroked the handle of my curved knife. “That does sound like a splendid idea, Mellissa. Shall we retire to your kitchen?”
I grinned, while picking up the severed arm. I took out a piece of white cloth and wrapped up the bleeding limb before walking over to the door and opening it for Diana. “After you, my dear.”
She grinned a secret grin before squeezing past me.
I did notice the smirk but thought nothing of it. I guess I was too excited with the prospect of the Gala organiser sampling my delicious stew later on tonight. There was also the equally exciting prospect of getting up close and very personal with a new friend.
It was my turn to grin a secret grin. The woman in front of me didn’t see the smile.
Unlike Mrs Harper’s dirty old sponge cave, I keep mine in tip top shape. Oh, it’s not like I use my children. Well, I do, but not in that way. You see, I have a little friend. I call him Henry, named after my husband’s sexy younger brother. Hmm, okay, he used to be sexy, back when I was dating his kid brother, but that’s another story.
Henry, you see, used to be Stephen. Well, it was once part of Stephen. That young man kindly donated his right femur and, until a certain recent development, has given me untold hours of sexual pleasure for over nine years. I even knitted Henry a lovely little sock which I hang on the end of my bed. I’ve decided to try inserting Stuart’s arm-bone into my sponge cave for the foreseeable future. After all, it was the Man himself who preached that a change was always good for the soul.
It is just a shame that Mrs Harper never bothered to listen to that valuable piece of advice. Still, a change was coming for the woman whether she liked it or not. After that lovely Mrs Gloria Price tasted my stew, there’s no chance that Diana Harper would ever hold the Happy Day Scythe ever again.
Once I’d made sure that the woman was comfortable and unable to cause any mischief, I hurried into the kitchen, placed the severed arm on a plate and covered it with a tea towel before finishing off the two teas. I lied about the chocolate cake though. I did have some left, but I wasn't going to share it with her.
I still had a good few hours before my special guest was due to arrive, so it gave me plenty of time to get rid of this one, after I’d made her feel smaller than a mouse before finishing off the my lovely stew.
“It is two sugars still?” I inquired, bringing the two teas into the lobby. It didn’t really matter if the old witch had changed how she liked her tea, I wasn’t going back now. She could either like it or lump it.
“You know me too well,” she replied, taking the tea out of my hand.
It did annoy me a tad to see how easily she managed to grab the cup without burning her skin, despite me making it purposely difficult for her. The woman gently put the cup on my polished table without using a mat. That irked me. Why did I not see that one coming?
“Have you spat in this, Mellissa?”
I giggled. “You know me too well,” I said, repeating her words and her mocking tone.
She shrugged, picking up the cup. “Not that I really care.” She took a single noisy sip.” Mmm, very refreshing.”
“I’m so glad that you’re enjoying it, honey. Now, shall I show you the secret to my stew?”
The woman paused in mid sip. “Wait, why are you still grinning? What have you done to this tea?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I not mention I had to use some menstrual blood to flavour it? Oh dear,
terribly sorry about that.”
Mrs Harper burst out laughing. She stood up and approached me. “Oh, now that is a funny one, dear. Worthy of the Man and his cat. You’re sixty-eight next month, dearie. I bet your stinking twat hasn’t seen any of the red stuff in over two decades.”
I nodded in agreement. “Sure, you have got me yet again, honey. Come on, let’s get this meat off that bone.” She trailed behind me and I listened to her quiet giggling while so trying not to laugh myself. I wasn’t lying when I said I added in a little more flavour. You see, I had to discipline that very naughty Susan Bennett as well for trying to help that nasty little boy from trying to escape. I don’t know what came over me. You see, that was the recent development. I punished her with my Henry. Of course I knew it was her time of the month, after all, I’m the one who has to clean up after them. Even so, after Henry and I had finished, there was rather a lot of blood between her legs. Looking back, I might have been a bit too violent with my thrusts. Still, I don’t think she’ll be doing anything so unexpected again. The blood came in handy too. That’s just like me though, never throwing anything away.
It was so nice to be on the plinth above Mrs Harper for a change, even if she did believe the opposite. The way I saw it, nothing else could go wrong today. This horrible woman would soon be leaving my house, knowing full well that for the first time in years, she would be a complete non-entity in Brutality’s annual Gala while her rival would actually have the Happy Day Scythe clasped between my breasts.
“Okay, first, we need to de-flesh the bone. I’m sure that won’t be a problem for someone like you, honey.” I turned around, expecting her to be just behind me, hanging on to my every word. Instead, the annoying woman stood over my sink staring out of the window. “Diana, the meat is over here.”
She swung her head, that condescending smile back on her dirty little face.
“Oh, goodness me, I totally forgot to mention that I bumped into Gloria Price on my way over, honey. I said that you’d just love to meet her a couple of hours earlier.” That grin widened. “I hope you don’t mind.”
The blood drained from my face. How could she do this to me? Oh no, even the Man and his cat wouldn’t be able to pull me out of this mess. How could I possible keep that woman entertained while my stew cooked? I stared aghast at this evil, nasty, dirty woman. How could I possibly keep Gloria Price entertained while that woman stood over my shoulder, cackling like some demented harpy?
I marched right up to her. “You know what, Diana Harper? I so wish I had thrust my curved knife right into your deceitful face when I had the chance,” I spat.
The woman just giggled. “Perhaps you should have, honey. It would have stopped me from kicking that rather sharp knife over to your two rather angry captives.”
“On no. Please tell me you’re lying.”
She shook her head slowly from side to side before turning back towards the window. “Well, bless the Man and his cat. I do believe that’s Mrs Gloria Price walking up your garden path, honey. Do you want me to let her in? I don’t mind, I know you’re probably feeling just a pinch of panic worming through your guts about now.”
I looked at the uncovered arm, watching a droplet of blood roll onto the plate, hearing the dreaded knock upon my front door. I couldn’t move, terror had frozen me in place.
“Oh I’ll get that, honey,” said Mrs Harper.
That smug, false contented tone drilled into my head. I saw my hand reaching for the arm, my fingers folding over the thin wrist. The sound of the door opening and Mrs Harper bringing the woman who I had worked so hard to impress into my kitchen. I knew they were there, the pair of them. That horrible witch still wearing her smug ‘you’ll never get anything over me’ expression and Mrs Gloria Price, no doubt wondering why I wasn’t already on my knees and kissing her fucking feet.
“Oh my, Mrs Mellissa Whitehouse, that broth does smell good.”
The arm no longer held its temperature. It now felt like I was holding a pig’s trotter. The tips of my fingers caressed the underside while I listened to their breathing. They obviously expected me to speak right about now, to either welcome her into my humble dwelling or maybe to thank her for the compliment. In truth, I just wanted to ram this severed arm into the mouth that next opened, the wet side first.
“I feel that despite an earlier conversation, my new arrival time was not expected by both parties?”
The tension in my kitchen dropped like a curtain. I heard the sounds of alarm escaping from Mrs Harper’s mouth in the form of rapid panting. It actually made me find enough energy to remove my fingers from the meat and to create just a sliver of a smile on my face. I turned around. “I honestly had no idea you would be arriving at this time, Mrs Price.” I lowered my head and gazed at my feet. Preferring to silently criticise myself for bringing mud in from the garden than feel those judging eyes making me feel like I was back at school.
“Not to worry, Mrs Whitehouse. I can wait, and from what my nose is telling me, I suspect the wait will be worth it.”
After that encouraging statement, I did pluck up enough courage to face the woman who had the power to elevate me to this year’s Happy Day Scythe wielder. She wasn’t even upset with me! So much for the judging eyes. Oh my, thank the Man. Mrs Harper had not ruined this day after all.
“I won’t lie here, Mellissa. May I call you Mellissa? I might have even done a little dance in my bedroom, this morning, when word got around that you were going to prepare your stew.”
That scythe was as good as mine and there was nothing Mrs Harper could say or do to stop this momentous occasion from happening. “You’re too kind, Mrs Price, really you are.”
“Oh please, you can stop being so formal. I suspect that you and I are going to be such good friends. Call me Gloria.”
“She’s got live stock in her shed!” blurted the other woman. Mrs Harper spun around and ran over to the window on the far side of the kitchen. “And they’ve somehow escaped.”
If fear hadn’t just gripped every part of my flesh, I might have found the change in Gloria’s posture hilarious. It was obviously a trick of the light but her already massive frame seemed to expand in all directions. Mrs Gloria Price’s stern face gazed down at Mrs Harper and me, her eyes peeling away the layers of my soul. I started to twitch, unable to help myself.
“Well, this is a bit of a predicament.”
She might have whispered those words but it felt like she’d just deafened me. She pushed her hand inside the folds of that black cloak and pulled out a long serrated blade. Oh the Man and his cat! Was that meant for us two? My fumbling fingers found the handle to my cutlery drawer at exactly the same time she released this really strange noise. It took me a moment to realise she’d just chuckled.
“Isn’t this turning out to be a fabulous and unexpected occasion?”
Mrs Harper smiled her secret smile. The horrid bitch had won and she knew it. Thanks to her my life was completely ruined.
“I haven’t been on a hunt since I was a child,” said Mrs Price. “I’m so going to enjoy wetting my blade.”
I opened the cutlery drawer and selected two serrated knives, giving the longer one to Mrs Harper while trying not to burst into tears.
The old woman then placed her hand between my breasts. “No. You stay right here.” She took the shorter knife out of my hand then dropped it back into my drawer. “Mrs Harper and I can deal with this. I came to enjoy the delights of your stew and by golly, that is exactly what I intend to do.”
Having said her piece, Mrs Gloria Price turned and marched towards the door which led to my back garden, leaving me alone with my misery. Only I wasn’t quite alone. Mrs Harper still lingered. No doubt feeding off the utter retched emotion clinging to my body like morning dew.
“Come along, Mrs Harper. Don’t dally.”
The nasty witch had done it once again. After all this palaver, it’s obvious that the conniving old woman would end up with the Gala’s grand prize yet agai
n. I almost felt like just giving up. No, I wasn’t going to let her see me like that. No way. I would smile my way through this, no matter what.
I picked up the severed arm and placed it on the chopping board with the little fingers facing the tiles. Then selected the sharpest knife from my wooden block.
This really wasn’t fair. Ever since we were kids, that Diana always had to be the best at everything, no matter what. Did the Man and his cat hate me that much? Yeah well, fuck Mrs Harper and the horse she rode in on. It didn’t matter how many lies that woman spouted or how many times she won the right to hold the Happy Day Scythe, the bitch would never, ever top my stew.
Several seconds of silence passed me by while I began to carefully slice through the skin and flesh so I could pop out the bone. Only the room didn’t give off its usual Zen calmness. At first, I assumed the foul vapours from Mrs Harper’s presence were making me twitchy. I pushed my thumb and forefinger into the still warm meat and slid my fingers around the wet bone. I stopped dead, as a freezing shiver travelled down my back. There wasn’t anything wrong with my instincts at all!
A long shadow loomed over me. I pulled my fingers out of the flesh and tried to grab the blade but my bloodied digits slipped off the handle just before a hand whipped forward and batted the knife to the other end of the counter.
Before I had time to react, I felt fingers digging into my shoulders. The next thing I knew, I’d been spun around coming face to face with the snarling face of Susan Bennett. Her eyes flickered to the severed arm. She opened her mouth and her wailing voice filled my kitchen.
She lunged forward, her big hands wrapping around my neck. I had totally forgotten how quick this one was. My vision started to grey out. I tried to move those hands, but she held me tighter than the vice I used on Stuart. I then saw the immediate future of this nasty girl standing over my still body just as those two women walked back into my kitchen. Mrs Price was upset but I didn’t see that. All I saw was the look of joy spread across the face of Diana Harper.
I slammed my foot up between the girl’s legs before I totally lost all the strength to do anything. The grip on my neck loosened but she didn’t let go until I booted her again. I tried to call her every swearword I knew, but nothing came out of my mouth but a harsh gasp, so I spoke to her with my knife instead.
