Page 44 of Savage Keepsakes

I slip through the hall, placing the mask over my face. With a burst of excitement, I clasp my hands together and make my way towards his stall.

“Sup.”

He stares at his swollen knees, his feet barely touching the floor as he continues shaking like a fish against the wall.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

“Shorter list is what’s right with me,” I tell him.

I walk to the killing room. Through the cutout in the wood, I watch him struggle against the restraints. His cursing rises above the music.

I dance around the table, nodding my head to the beat as I assess where to start with her. I’ll play the long game for him.

If he thinks he has a chance, he’ll tell me what I need. They always do, desperately crying out the details that seal their fate, and within months, their family is graced with a little keepsake.

I grab the scissors and slice her clothes off, taking in her soft skin. I’m impressed with the amount I can use here.

“Well hey there, sweetheart.”

With my scalpel in hand, I trace a line down the front of her torso, sending goosebumps across her skin. I cut from under her breasts and make my way towards her pelvis.

Her screams pierce my eardrums, her body trembling, and the smell of fear, sweat, and piss circulates the room. A solid diamond shape comes off quite easily.

The layer of fat underneath will be the perfect amount for a new order of soap. Her eyes flutter closed again. She won’t last the entire killing, but it’s for the best. It’s going to be fucking awful.

I enter the other room and reach for the stainless steel bucket, its metal surface reflecting the light.

When I return, I run my fingers over the muscle and loosen the yellow substance before grabbing chunks and throwing it into the bucket. The wet sound echoes around us between his screams and the music.

Grinning from behind the mask, I stand back and look at my masterpiece. Sage has passed out, herchest moving weakly. I run my finger over her face, the skin cool to the touch.

Flipping her over seems like the best idea, and after I do, I lock eyes with him as he shakes against the restraints. He’s worked-up now, and we’re only getting started.

I glance down to see a huge tattoo over her back, covering every inch of usable material.

“Fuck,” I mutter, flipping her over.

I lean closer and cut the skin at her temple with a precise motion. The moment her forehead is carved away, a chill runs down my spine as grey bone comes into view and the warm trickle of blood flows over my fingertips. Each stroke of the blade makes her gasp for air.

I step back for a moment, scalpel in hand, and bend over the table as her eyes widen briefly and her body relaxes. I continue peeling off her face, but deciding to leave the lower half on.

It’s almost criminal to remove these eyes. The fear forever etched across her face is a thing of beauty.

Dancing to the music, I take a deep breath and pick up a slender spoon, preparing to remove her eye. Carefully, I set it beside her head, so it remains within reach and I don’t forget it.

Afterward, I walk out to the hall and open the stall door. Reaching for Brian’s pants, I undo the buttonsand shove both them and boxers down, revealing a very limp dick.

Obviously, he doesn’t get off on fear like I do.

“Man, what the fuck? Just kill us. What’re you doing?” He sways his body and rotates his hips, but it does nothing but helicopter his dick.

“I can do that. Actually, I can let you go after a quick wank.”

He looks down at me in terror, but nods slightly. Fucking weirdo.

“Where’re you guys from?” I ask.

He closes his eyes before taking a deep breath. “Toronto. Our family’s there. If you let me go, I won’t say shit and move back home.”

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