He stands underneath the shower, letting the water wash away his sins, his body scarred and bruised, he feels a hand slide around his chest from behind, and then her naked body pressing up against him.
“Did you really need to break my finger?” she asks as she runs her hand down over his stomach and begins to slowly caress his member. “Not that I’m complaining, it got me fucking wet, but my finger? How the fuck am I going to explain that tomorrow?”
“Honey I don’t care, but just so we’re on the same page, you know you’re fucked up right?”
“You joined in and you have the nerve to call me fucked up?”
“I call it as I see it, but I’m not stupid enough to pass up a fine thing like you,” he says with a smile.
“Well I’m happy I made your night,”
“Honey, you made me very happy,” he grabs her hand and starts rubbing his hardening member against it.
She releases him and takes a step backwards and he turns around and takes a step towards her, his eyes wide and full of desire, she places a hand on his chest and pushes him away. “Keen for more are we?”
“Honey, if you want to take it rough again I’m happy to accommodate.”
“Lover what makes you think I want it rough, maybe I might like it with a bit of passion this time instead of aggression?” She says as she steps back towards him and places a hand on his chin, caressing his cheek, he closes his eyes and buries himself in her hand.
“I’ll take you anyway you’re willing to let me?”
“I can see that,” she says as she grabs hold of his hard member and slowly beings to run her hand up and down the shaft.
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
“Neither have you,” she says as she presses herself against him and kisses him passionately, he pulls her away and they look deeply into each other’s eyes, the water washing over them both. He feels the coldness of it first, and then the pain. Looking down he sees the knife sticking from his stomach and his blood washing into the drain, he looks up at her, speechless. She returns his look of shock and confusion with a wry smile, and rips the knife upwards, opening his stomach up like a fish. He tries in vain to say something, but only ends up choking on his own blood, all the while, she continues to smile. As his legs begin to give way he desperately tries to hold himself up against her, but she shoves him away, sending him crashing to the floor, smashing his face on the tiles, black flashes begins to slowly fill up his vision and then nothing.
Gary takes a large mouthful of his drink and places the glass back on the table, he looks across into the smiling face of the man sitting opposite, Andrew Fontanie, Gary’s former partner for eight years and best friend since he was six, he looks half Gary’s age, but with less hair and in the eight months since he was forcibly removed from District-Three his once well keep physical appearance has dissolved somewhat into a few extra pounds around his stomach, but nothing life threatening as he always says. In his own words, he’s enjoying the stress free life and getting ready for the day when he can’t afford to eat, and then the extra fat will come in handy.
“If I knew you were going to suck the soul out of the room I wouldn’t have invited you along, obviously this Slasher case is still winding you up, like a fucking windy little fucking toy thing, you know what I’m talking about.” Fontaine says as he slams his glass into the table.
“Shut the fuck up, it’s just annoying the fuck out me, I mean seriously, there is no fucking readable system this fucker is following.”
“OK, so let’s go over it again, most of the victims are unconnected, some of them have rap sheets, and some don’t. You have men, women and even a transgender thrown in there for good measure and let’s mention the best part, the killer offs their victims the exact same way every time.”
“No every time, the first few kills were more brutal, like the killer really took their time, and then they started to evolve into what we have now.”
“OK, right, so the first kills meant something to our killer, these guys, four of them right?”
“Yep, four pieces of shit, Mike Jarvice, Lenny Farr, Pop Johnson and Derrick Sarcivic.”
“Right, anyway, the four of them, they had some connection to our killer, and what, we decided they obviously did something fucked up to our psycho, something bad enough to warrant a beating before they stuck them like a pig.”
“Most obvious conclusion.”
“Right and the best part about these dropkicks is that the four of them have rap sheets, predominantly for assault and rape, and hung in the same circles.”
“So did victim number eight, Harry Thorpe, he had connections to all four and minor connections to the last two, who were also connected to Lenny.”
“So there’s our system,” Fontaine says as he empties the remainder of his glass into his mouth.
“We know there’s a system, but what the fuck are we supposed to do to stop it, put a track on all the fuckers who have a rap sheet that have had some connection with any of the victims?”
“That’s the only answer,” Fontaine says as he turns around towards the bar. “Janey, have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“Every day Fontaine, every day, you need another two?” she replies
“You know how to get into my pants.”
“Pity for you I’m not that easy.”
“Will not stop me from trying my love,” Fontaine says as he turns back to Gary, who looks more distressed than before, he turns back around to the bar. “Can you make it four pumpkin, my friend here needs some sobering up.”
“Well he’s going about it the wrong way.”
“That’s what I told him, but as you can see, he’s a bit bigger than me, so I’ll pass on the arguing,” Janey laughs and he feels Gary’s eyes burn into the back of his head.
“You’re not that funny,” Gary says, Janey places the drinks on the table.
“Ignore him Gary, I do,” she says with a smile.
“One day, Janey, one day you’ll be mine and then..”
“Then I’ll take everything I can and divorce you like the rest,” she says, Gary lets out a laugh and slaps Fontanie on the back.
Fontaine smiles, “What can I say, when she’s right, she’s right. Anyway, the next time you get a call out let me come with, it’s better to see the work in the flesh than in pictures.”
“You know what happened last time, Bill lost his shit.”
“Yeah I know, old fart, still I’m better off away from the controlling eyes of Divisional, doing my own thing, being my own boss. You know, not having someone come down on you when three high profile suspects turn up dead, shit like that.”
“I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about, and the old fart kept you out of the freezer, if you remember, if he hadn’t of swept all the shit that happened with the Gillespie brothers under the carpet neither of us would be here.”
“He only did it because he knew you were involved, otherwise he would’ve sent my arse to the freezer instead of sending me out the door, we both know that. Oh and did I mention the old prick ripped me of my pension?” Fontaine says as he pours one of his drinks down his throat until empty.
“Yes you have, many fucking times, but he still did us a favour,” Gary says as he gets to his feet.
“OK, I get it, let it go Andrew, relax Andrew, I’m with you big guy, I’m there. But you don’t need to leave, I mean I don’t really want to come along to the next body anyway, it’s never any fun.”
“I said when you called me I had things to do tonight, so I could only stay for a few, a few has passed and I have somewhere to be.”
“Oh shit, it’s the twenty-eighth, I totally didn’t realise.”
“It’s OK, don’t worry about it, but I’ll talk to you later, when you’re sober,” Gary says as he quickly exits the bar.
“Good, sober means tomorrow, I think. Well my lovely I guess it’s just me and you for the rest of the evening,” Fontaine says as he turns to the bar, but Janey is nowhere to be seen. A puzzled Fontaine turns back around and looks at the three full glasses. “Well I guess it’s just you three and me for the rest of the evening,” he says as he picks up one of the glasses.
END OF ACT II