Monochrome My Madness

by Ashleigh Giannoccaro

  It’s time to go play with the toy my new lover has given me.

  I GET MY KICKS IN LIFE from torture, mental and physical, tormenting another soul makes me happy. I know I am sick, twisted and insane, but my madness is what keeps me alive. Madness came to me when I was young, only then I used to enjoy the torture inflicted on me. The days my stepmother would drag me by the hair or kick me until I puked, I enjoyed it because if I was tortured by feeling pain then I was alive. I have told you that I feel everything. I felt it every time my father brought a whore to my bed in the hope I would fall in love and marry her. I felt it as I would fuck her within an inch of her life her screams gagged and her body bound. I suffered every bruise I left on their skin, every bite mark and every welt my belt left after it cracked over their flesh. I celebrated the elation of success when their broken little bodies were fetched by my pop’s henchmen and dragged away from my evil clutches damaged forever, broken, like me. I endured the splintering of my heart break when Cassie slipped from my grip and plummeted to her bone-crushing death on the sidewalk below me. I experienced a thrill when I got the call to say my father was dead. The things that I feel are rarely good things. I love to watch as the mental wall is reached and the body breaks under my hand. I don’t enjoy killing because a corpse cannot feel the bite of pain, or the burning need for touch after being deprived, a dead body cannot make me feel alive.

  Keeping Shannon and not allowing her to kill me is torture for her. She needs to kill me to keep herself and her demons living and by making her mine I will torture her soul a little bit every single day till eventually I will break her. I will enjoy every second of it and so will she. I plan to torture that perfect body too. The way her skin marked under my hands, my marks on its perfect whiteness made me crazy with feelings; they felt good to me, but they are far from good. I want to keep breaking her and that is a new feeling for me, one that I cannot understand.

  Now it is time for her reward for being the perfect little toy and bending over in my hands and accepting my control over her. It is like dangling a live mouse in front of a cat, she will play with it till it dies. She will enjoy every single minute of it and later when I have silenced the dark needs in both of us I will gently seduce her into being my wife. I have not come this far without being able to read exactly what people need at their most essential core. If I give her what she needs, I can take what I need from her. I can torture her all I want as long as I can fill the need for tenderness and control that lurks below the powerful illusion she creates. She is a very special kind of killer.

  She fetches me from her office, she is different, and her demons are near the surface she is excited for what awaits in the small exam room. It is like an electric spark that arks off of her. The second I knew her vice was murder I knew I could control her, I have controlled another murderer all my life, my best friend kills and not for fun, but for business. He would be an uncontrolled killing machine if he hadn’t been moulded by a mentor and had a controlling hand guiding him without his knowledge. I miss him. Because of him I know exactly what to do with the little princess and I am going to love it. I have a sneaking suspicion I may love her too, but not right now. I am not sure loving someone, that has to be tied to the bed so they don't kill you, is a good plan not just yet. I need to keep all of this in line with my original plans or I will wreck it all. I can love her when it is done.

  The darkness and depravity of her need ripple from her as she guides me to her little chamber of poison pleasure. She comes alive in this darkness and is even more irresistible now. Her stance changes and she stands tall and her chin and eyes are up, they dart to her victim who is convulsing. His body thrashing loudly, thudding against the floor where he has fallen. Her eyes look like glass; nothing in the green pools of darkness. A wicked smile tugs at her lips as she pins him down with her delicate heeled shoe the second he still, this sets off another bout of thrashing and frothing at the mouth. “Outside stimuli like touch make it worse, he is already suffering an aggravated attack because you broke his body so beautifully yesterday, every muscle spasm will be excruciating. He won’t last long now since he was already weak.” There is venom in her voice when she says the word weak. She is disappointed that he wasn’t strong when she got him, a note for the next time. She is alive and I gave her that. Watching Joel suffer is serving another purpose too. My monster is being fed and further sated by his suffering. God this is hypnotic to watch.

  She kicks a chair behind me; I am in the way of her ritual. She will need to learn to share her space with me, all of it. I am getting as much pleasure as she is from watching his torture, only when he dies mine ends and hers it at its highest. Right then is when I sweep in and make her believe I can give her the highs she needs, only me. This is how to make her mine.

  Every time his quaking body stills she sets off another episode with touch. A flicking light or sound forcing his body to contort and tense the foam around his mouth looks like a rabid dog from a horror movie. It’s the froth and saliva that do him in eventually after an hour of playing with her toy he aspirates his snot and spit and suffocates on his own filth.

  My little princess is placid and happy and less inclined to want to murder me for now and I am rid of another family member in my way. Let’s go buy a house. Then it’s time to go and greet my mourning sister in law and introduce the family to my deadly lover. They will get the next instalment of heartache tomorrow when Orla awakes to her firstborn son's body on her doorstep. I wish I could watch and see their hearts stop beating as I win.

  We are all just illusions of what we want the world to believe about us, no one even begins to assume what lurks below my surface not even my best friends. I am the master of appearing normal. There is nothing ordinary about me. I am a villain. My demons and monsters are born from your worst nightmares. I am what happens when you break a little boy.

  EVERY TIME I TAP HIS body, flick the lights or make a noise - his body spasms, convulses his spine arching to its limit. Spit and snot surround his mouth and nose, oh this one is going to drown in his own fluids, drowning is a ghastly death. It is slow and painful and perfect. The ice burns cold throughout my body, the calmness, that killing brings me, is slicing into the chaos that Callum left in my mind last night. He has unlocked possibilities I never thought of and he is enjoying my little show. I am enjoying being watched, no one has ever seen this side of me and lived to talk about it after. No one has ever taken the time to get to know me.

  I hope sex with Callum isn’t always like it was last night. If it is, we many run out of people to kill very fast. My mind is already back on the sex my victim isn’t even dead yet. I am walking a dangerous line and it is messing with my Ying and Yang. I watch those green eyes full of evil focusing in on the tortured muscles of his nephew, his blood relative and there isn’t an ounce of kinship there. He only sees the suffering and he enjoys it, no remorse, no shame, no worry and no fear. Just like me. The same look was in his eyes when he lashed his belt across my skin last night. When he bit into my thigh drawing blood and every time he brought me to the edge of ecstasy and left me there with no relief. Callum loves to watch others suffer; he spoke of feeding my monster, this is feeding his just as much. I am afraid of what we might become together and I put my guard back up just a little bit.

  Finally, the writhing spitting puddle of a human mess under my foot gives up, his body drowning in its own secretions. He turns to a lifeless lump of flesh right there on the floor and all is right with my world again, all except Callum. When Connor and his men were done with me that night, they left me in a similar mess on this very floor. Neil smiled at me like he was almost sorry. No one was sorry, my mother came and picked me up by my ponytail later on and told me to “Pull yourself together stupid girl it’s not that bad.” I hate remembering, and I am not the mess on the floor any longer. Callum reduced me to a mess on the floor last night.

  Usually, I would call Neil now to clean up and take the body away no questions asked, but
not this time. I have to trust Callum this time and I don’t know if I do, generally the body would just disappear never to be seen again. For the first time, I know the body will be found. Callum wouldn’t let them catch me, would he? Is this a trap to get me caught and locked up? Do they need me out of the way? I would rather die than be locked up.

  Instead of waiting with the corpse I am going house shopping with a man that scares the life into and out of me. My pulse quickens with an excitement I haven’t felt in a long time. Killing people used to be my dangerous excitement, the thing that set my heart racing and shortened my breaths.

  Callum in only a few hours has tilted my world on its axis. He is making my heart race, but also ache.

  He takes my hand in his, calm and gentle now, he seems lighter than his big frame as he walks us out the surgery locking the door with keys I didn’t give him. He is taking over my world; owning everything I thought was mine including the quiet violence of my poison. He is filling my space with a new danger; his calculated lust for torture and my desire to control the demise of my victims are working together becoming something that unnerves me disabling my ability to think clearly. The intimidating nature of the beast climbing into the car beside me is just a scratch on the surface of the monster we are going to make together. I have to kill Callum.

  “Let’s go buy a house Princess.” His words are light, fun and no indication of the mayhem we have just rained down on his family. He is as happy as I am. Fuck me this man is a walking contradiction and he has walked right into my world cracking it open and mixing it up. I am normally sated after sex and a kill, but right now happy Callum is talking to another little monster. The one between my legs. I feel the heat spreading across my pale skin just thinking it. I want him almost as much as I want to kill him. My body would not survive a repeat of what he did last night. I can feel the pain in every movement I make this morning. It reminds me of the insanity that overtook Callum in the lust of our undeniable desire. I am terrified of this force drawing us closer.

  I AM GOING TO GO BUY A house in a town I hate and don’t intend to stay in for very long. It may seem silly, but I need to create the illusion of being innocent and settled here. A home and a woman might just make things more believable than I had originally planned. I am dangerously attracted to Shannon. There is an electricity between us, a current that is not visible but felt deeply.

  The prospect, of spending more time with the evil little princess next to me, has me excited. I might just be able to make this work for both of us. If I watch her torture others then I don’t need to hurt her if I don’t hurt her she won’t want to kill me. Well, not as much anyway. We might just make the perfect monster together. Also, it’s a move my dim brother will never see coming! He thinks she will kill me after our first date. He probably thinks I am already dead. I just don’t know if I can control my depraved urges with her.

  My phone is ringing through the car system; it’s Sahib. He is the one, whose minions, will be cleaning up the mess we just made. I need to take his call, but I’m not too sure the lady should hear all of this. I answer any way he isn’t someone who you just piss off. We are very similar Sahib and I.

  “Sahib, what can I do for you?” I answer sounding reasonable, pleasant and friendly. He knows me well enough to tell that something is off.

  “Slow the fuck down Callum; it’s not a race to kill them all in a week!” He sounds a little irritated that I am off the plan a little. He is here to keep the program on track and to stop me from going crazy.

  “This one wasn’t me. Sahib, my girlfriend killed him by accident it just fit with our plan.” I try to calm the irate man. He is a crucial part of moving things forward and I need him working with me. A wicked smile comes over my face. Yeah I have a fucking girlfriend. Even if I trapped her into it, she is mine.

  “Callum any girl who dates you must be the fucking Devil. People are not poisoned accidentally either. Just slow the fuck down. We don’t want attention from cops or other robbers yet. Stick to the damn plan and that means the timeline too. No more bodies for a bit.” He is harsh and short and simply hangs up, Sahib doesn’t do small talk or personal at all he is a criminal that’s the end of his story. We are not friends we are associates, he knows about me because that’s his business not because he cares. We have a very lucrative deal in place and he needs me. Alive. His men will chop Joel’s corpse into small pieces and have it delivered to his mother.

  Shannon stays silent through the phone conversation and the ride to the Iona district where we will be choosing from three very overpriced properties to pretend to live in. Houses here baffle me, in Cape Town everything is new, modern polished and cheap. Here things are old historical, manky and fucking expensive. For the price of one of these homes, I could have a mansion on fucking Table Mountain or in Camps Bay ten times the size brand new and get change! I hate this place.

  An old lady in her sixties meets as at the first house, she introduces herself as May, my realtor. Who knew I had such a thing? She rambled on about how she found my brothers their homes and was so excited to be showing me homes in such a sought after part of town. Whatever this place is horrendous doesn’t matter where in town I am, it will not feel right so I might as well get the best I can afford. I certainly have no shortage of funds.

  Shannon stays silent just nods at the frumpy old lady with her smeared pink lips and follows us around. The first home is a semi-detached that won’t work for me; my neighbours are way too close - they can see and more importantly hear things. I would like to move to a farm in the countryside right now, but that won’t be practical or fit in with my family. Shannon’s heels click on the floor behind me reminding me of her presence as I walk through the old, stale and definitely dated home. We get to the kitchen when I stop the woman rambling in front of us.

  “This isn’t the house May, I don’t want a semi, I don’t really want neighbours and it’s ugly.” She snaps her mouth shut in utter shock not quite knowing what to say to me. After a few stutters, she replies. “Shall we move onto the next property then?” Her expression is one of nerves, she is afraid of me, or scared of something. Is that not what I just said? I have no patience for this shit.

  “Yes May, let’s.” I sarcastically reply earning the first reaction all morning from Shannon as a stupid smile toys with her pretty pink lips and she shakes her head at me. She doesn’t hate me for what I did to her last night. She is not afraid of me, but she should be. She seems comfortable which is a terrible lapse in judgement.

  As we walk back out the front door of the home that we won’t be buying I snake, my hand into hers, I am drawn to her and I shouldn’t be. I want to be tender and gentle so she won’t kill me and that thought has me confused. Most of all, I want her to be mine and not just for appearances or because her life depends on it. I like what we were together this morning and I rarely like anything or anyone! This is dangerous, the thrill of that danger makes me want her even more.

  She doesn’t pull her hand away or even look at me, just accepts it and walks beside me back to the car where I open the door and help her in. I slide in beside her and we follow the realtor’s shitty little hatchback to the next house a few blocks away. This one looks more promising but familiar. I have been here. I feel the ice from my past here. It’s detached and has a yard, it’s a corner stand and no one lives across the road. There is an old park where kids play; where I played. I see a smile on her face from the corner of my eye, this is the house. Let us see what the inside has to offer. This home has my pulse racing and I know I have been here before. It is very grey here as if the colour has washed out of everything over time. I shudder with a cold shiver of dread but I am pulled into the house because it made her smile. It made her seem human for just a moment.

  The fat little lady scurries to the door to open it before we can even get out of the car. The weather is turning shit and the wind blows her grey hair and floral skirt around making her look more ridiculous than she already did. As I he
lp Shannon up the sidewalk, she whispers to me softly “I like this house, I have since I was a little girl. Do you remember who owned this house Callum?” Her voice is soft, but there is a shiver of something in it. “Your brother will not be happy if you buy this house, I am not sure why she is showing you, it must be a mistake?” Now my interest in the house is even higher, I would love to piss my brother off.

  “No, I don’t. Who lived here?” I don’t play with small talk I know I should remember, but I don’t. Shannon’s eyes lock on mine and the green is full of naughty playfulness now. “It was the Spillane house, the bosses house it has been empty for years, Mick should have taken it over but he ran away with the rest of them.” She smiles at me, knowing that I am going to want it more now. My Ma lived in this house. My heart sinks I know why I remember this house, my Ma died here too. I don’t have clear memories. I was too young, but the door, the windows and blood flash back into my mind. This is the ghost house of my childhood, the house where my nightmares were made and my monsters were born. “Why do you like it so much Shannon?” Her smile turns wicked. This is the place where I became a villain. I need to know why she likes it so much.

  “Because it’s beautiful. Beautiful and forbidden.” Her answer describes the house but also her. We step in the door and the empty darkness surrounds us, the utilities are off and there is stagnant mess everywhere. It’s like a museum no one ever visited, the museum of my past where death hangs over the doorway.

  May is waiting for us with a torch. “It is the most expensive of the listings and needs the most work done but you will be pressed to find such a property available. It has been vacant for many years now.” She mutters again. Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard and it grates on me, what an irritating little lady.