Page 37 of Lonely
I once heard the nurses say he used to run before work down by the canal in the village. I could picture him pausing his run to stretch his hamstrings, a trail of sweat seeping through his T-shirt.
Overachiever.
Meanwhile, I had a gut.
It wasn’t a big one, but it wasn’t unnoticeable either. I would have been caught dead before I started my morning with a canal run. Fucking prick. If only the nurses had known he had his vices, too.
Shaking off thoughts of Andersen and his strict exercise regime, I cocked my head and pictured Carter naked on the floor without that spark in his eyes.
I liked his fire.
If he’d been dead, I wouldn’t have gotten burned. Still, the thought of finally silencing him stirred my desire. He wouldn’t have said no then. His silence would’ve whispered yes . . .
My cock filled with blood and grew hard and long as it pressed against my zipper.
No, I had work to do.
I grabbed the saw off the foot of the bed, crouched by his shoulders, and pressed the serrated blade to his neck. I didn’t think I wanted Andersen’s thoughts. Didn’t think I’d like what I’d find. He was too much like me, but I wanted to show Carter I wasn’t small or insignificant. I was powerful. I was someone.
And he should fear me.
With a grunt, I began to saw through flesh, focusing on the task at hand.
Carter would love me.
Squelch.
He would want me.
A grunt broke through the tension as I severed the head and placed it carefully by the stump. I usually did the feet next. But I pressed down on the arm instead, wiping sweat off my brow.
Carter would crave me.
Carter would beg for me.
Over the next few hours, I severed the arms and legs and then wrapped the pieces in plastic sheeting to conceal the rotting smell.
All but one. That one I left for the crows at work.
When only the torso remained, I stood to retrieve the chainsaw in the other room. It would be easier to discard him if he were in smaller pieces. I couldn’t use a handsaw to cut up his torso. I was too old for such an effort.
It roared to life in my hands as taillights swept through the room, briefly illuminating the massacre on the plastic sheeting.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Mother shrieked, causing me to startle and drop the binoculars. I hadn’t heard her enter my room. “Get away from the window, you filthy creep! You think your Lord and savior won’t see you looking at that boy and touching yourself? The Lord sees everything.”
Carter sat on a chair by the window in the common room, staring vacantly at nothing.
Nurse Julie, a young lady with chestnut hair and pouty lips, put her hand on my arm. “You won’t get any conversation out of him. He’s away in La-La land.”
Just then, Anna walked past.
She slammed her shoulder into Julie and gave me a filthy look that said there was hell to pay in my not-so-distant future.
I knew I should have never let her maul me in her living room. Little Mikey had warned me with his flicking tail and judgy eyes that said,‘You’re in trouble now, shithead.’
Trouble indeed.
Ignoring Anna’s terrible temper, I pulled over a chair and sat down opposite Carter. I opened the file and pretended to read over his notes, but my eyes slid up his thick thighs and lingered on his hands in his lap.
