A POUND OF FLESH

A BODY IN SUBURBIA

A BODY IN SUBURBIA

11

Staring at the bloody mass, which is his trophy, in the kitchen sink only makes the bile rise into his throat. Choking it down, the acid burns leaving a bad taste in his mouth. The fight, to keep the meager contents of his stomach, wages on as he continues to stare at the items. Dark red splatter come up the sides of metal basin, making the whole scene resemble macabre modern art. As mesmerizing and as beautiful he finds it, frustration radiates from his very being. The negative energy dances around him, like light bouncing off the water - reabsorbing and intensifying.

Things had not gone as planned. Stress caused by the unknown tightens around his chest and he feels himself start to lose control. He closes his eyes, breathing slowly in and out as he tries to bring himself back to calm. He focuses his mind on his mission and plays out the next steps to come, doing his best to detail it out. He envisions himself moving around, going about the day to day, getting things organized, putting together his kit, doing his research, making the selection and deciding on the back up plan. Concentrating on the importance of a contingency, he reminds himself of that 'Ann' is the very reason why he must always have one mapped out.

It had been a success, somewhat messy, lacking control and technique, yet a success none the less. The contents of his sink were proof of this very fact. His heart begins to slow to a normal pace.

Once confident that he is back in control he opens his eyes, returning his attention to the here and now.

Collecting his things, he makes his way to the ensuite. After collecting the small bag of supplies left on the counter top, he climbs into the enclosure of the bathtub and pulls the glass door shut. Taking close notice he carefully peels each article of clothing off one piece at a time. The gloves, his ball cap and t-shirt are carefully folded into themselves and disposed of in the black garbage bag already set up in the bathtub. Once the upper part of his torso is bare, he methodically examines the exposed flesh. Dark marbling is already forming below the right side of his collar bone. Slightly tender to the touch, he works his hands across the rest of his chest checking for further signs of damage. Finding only that one place, he takes a fine tooth comb and runs it through his hair, over his arms and across his chest. The comb and its contents also find their way into the bag.

He checks his fingernails, which are immaculate, for safe measure.

With a hand held mirror he turns around to examine his back. The process is then repeated on his lower body. Relief washes over him as he finds himself free of any lacerations. Not even a paper cut. Satisfied with his examination, repeated thrice over, he removes the bag from the bathtub careful not to spill the contents.

Naked, he steps out and opens the doors to the vanity. From the back he pulls out a jug of Javex and a cleaning bucket. He fills the bucket, fishes the knives out of his backpack and drops them in. Letting them sit as he showers.

The water rushes over him, as he scrubs his skin until it becomes an angry pink. He can feel it ignite with irritation, the water slapping at it furthering the sting. When the stop clock on his counter starts to beep, letting him know the required twenty minutes has passed, he turns off the water and gets out of the shower.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he lifts the bucket into the wet tub and dumps the contents. He rinses out the tub and pail before pouring more Javex down the drain. The action releasing fumes into the air, causing his eyes and nostrils to burn.

Once the task is complete, he closes off the garbage bag, double bags it and returns it to the kitchen. With a few days off, he has already decided he will take it with him camping. The perfect opportunity to burn it. He decides to do the same with the stack of paperwork currently occupying the space behind his couch, and boxes that up as well. He adds the files from his backpack to the box, slightly pained to be losing the mementos.