Page 98 of An Unwilling Earl
She was gasping more now, struggling to breathe through the cut in her neck. Her fingers twitched, and he watched in fascination. He’d never taken the time to watch them die on their own. How long would it take? Did he even have the patience for it?
It wasn’t so much that he didn’t have the patience, but rather he wanted her death to be his choice.
He raised the knife and stabbed her in the stomach, straight down, piercing her skin and her innards.
Her body convulsed, and her fingers splayed, and she made a sound like a garbled scream, and then her body gave out, collapsed. Her eyes drifted closed, but she was still breathing.
That damnable wheezing that was getting on his last nerve and making his teeth ache.
Make her stop!
He wanted to cover his ears with his hands like when he was younger and he just wanted his mother to stop talking, to stop berating, to stop yelling.
But she wouldn’t stop. She just kept wheezing and wheezing and wheezing.
He stabbed her again and then again. He wasn’t certain how many times he stabbed her. Enough to make her stop wheezing.
Her eyes were open now, staring at the sky. He wondered if she was looking at the pearly gates or the fires of hell.
His mother would say the fires of hell because his victim had exchanged her body for money. That was a sin.
Edmund thought it was just a way for her to make money so she didn’t starve. He didn’t blame her for that.
He was just glad she stopped making noises.
Slowly he got to his feet, stood over her head, took her long hair in one hand, and sawed off her head with the knife.
When it came loose from her body he held it above her for a moment to let the blood drain from it. Her eyes were still open.
Then he put the severed head in his bag, tucked it away, making sure to get all the hair in there, too. She had a lot of hair.
When he was finished he looked down at the headless body. Her gown was soaked in fresh blood, and the coppery scent drifted up to him. He should cut off her hands like he did with the others, but it seemed like too much effort. Besides, everyone knew by now that he was killing the working women.
They were easier to capture. They were more eager, thinking they were going to get something out of him if they went with him. Thinking they would give him their body and he would give them money.
That was a sin.
His mother said so.
He’d rather watch them suffer, see the excitement, the confusion, and finally the fear inside of them. That was power.
If he stuck his member inside of them then they had the power and he was powerless. He didn’t want that.
Whistling a tune he’d heard earlier in the day, he walked away, his bag clutched in his hand.
No. These killings weren’t giving him the satisfaction he’d once had. They were too easy. No challenge.
But there was one woman who would be a challenge.
Charlotte.
Charlotte with her big blue eyes and long blond hair. Charlotte who had come into their lives a few years ago and had changed everything. No longer was he the object of his mother’s attention and ire. Mother had turned some of that to Charlotte. And then Mother had been very, very upset when Charlotte had disappeared.
Now she was back. Mother said so.
Edmund wondered what would happen to Mother if Charlotte disappeared for good.
Maybe he could give Mother Charlotte’s head to keep.
