Phase One...

Phase One

     As she fell, her face in the sink, Austin took a step back. Dark red liquid drenched his fists and the glimmering, sterling knife was jabbed deep into her back. Although there was no light behind her gaze, in the mirrors reflection, she seemed to be staring at him in disbelief. Pulling the knife from the woman’s back, he twirled it in his palm; phase one was complete.

     Austin kept the knife close, not wanting to leave it behind. In his brilliant mind, he was slowly piecing together phase two. There was no chance the death of a pretty woman, like her, would go ignored; this new phase would help keep him out of any investigation that may take place concerning the bloody corpse. As he moved toward the entrance of the house, a curious thought crossed his mind.

        He whispered to himself. “They’ll know her face…”

      The longer it took the police to identity her, the longer he had to develop a new identity; keeping her identity unknown was in his favor. He strode back toward the bathroom where he knew she lay. On the way, a tall wooden bat caught his attention. Austin put down the knife atop a nearby table for only a moment, as he lifted the bat from the corner where it had been leaning. A dirty smirk covered his lips as he felt the smooth polished wood of the strong oak bat. Pounding the bat into his hand he thought about how hard it would be to disfigure her appearance. Coming to a conclusion, Austin securely placed the knife, handle first, in his back pocket.

         Then, he turned his attention back to the bat and said satisfied, “This will do very nicely…”

     Taking his time walking back to the bathroom, he observed where the grey carpet of the hallway met the white bathroom floor tiles; a dark puddle of blood had already begun to pool. Stepping over the puddle, he entered the bathroom. The woman had slid from the sink counter, leaving a smear of blood down the cabinet’s wooden doors. Austin squatted next to her on the floor. Before he touched her, he opened the cabinet below the counter with the bat’s handle; inside there were trash bags, cleaning supplies and a box of latex gloves. Pressing the base of the bat on the glove container, he managed to pull two gloves out of the box without touching it. He then snapped the gloves on his hands. Phase two had begun.

    Austin grabbed a fist full of her bleach blonde hair, and then forcefully yanked her head to the left. With her profile toward him, he caressed her cheek with his covered hand. He took one long last look at her before he gripped the baseball bat firmly and slugged it into her face. Whack after smack, her appearance became disfigured; the walls became coated in her once bodily fluids. The sounds of her skull crushing, becoming concaved, gave him the same joy as a child crunching on a lollipop. For a moment, Austin stopped to admire his artwork. He licked his lips, ridding her blood from his face, then took the bat and swung it once more.

    The bathroom was a bloody catastrophe. Austin looked around to find everything had been sprayed with her blood. Once again, taking a handful of her bleach blonde hair, he yanked up her face to reveal that she was no longer recognizable. He had shattered her jaw, leaving molars lodged in her nasal cavity. The only thing that was barely recognizable, her eyes, were bloodshot and had already just begun to roll back in her head.

    Dropping her head on the floor, he ran his messy hands through his hair in thought.  Squatting over her again, he reached and used the base of the bat to pull the white trash bags toward him. It was time to complete phase two. With his fingertips he managed to reach two of the white trash bags. Austin untied his shoes then slipped his soaked feet into the bags, one for each bloody foot, leaving his leather boots to bathe in the sea of red. He grabbed another trash bag and slid the bat and his knife inside.

     Before he left, Austin removed what he desired from around her neck. Now in his hands, he possessed a dear keepsake that was once lost but now found. With this comforting reunion, he slipped it into his pocket then swiftly exited the dead woman’s home. The sound his socks made inside of the trash bags were the same squish sound that wet tennis shoes make after being soaked for several hours. Austin hadn't noticed how much blood his socks had absorbed in the slaughtering; he further praised himself for placing his feet in the bags.

    The door was left slightly cracked from when the woman greeted him an hour earlier. He pushed open the door with his bloody glove. Outside the door, was the flowerpot full of daises, where he’d hidden his ski mask. He picked the ski mask up and put it on with extra precaution. Even if the moon provided a dim lighting, he wanted to assure no one could make a positive ID if he was seen.  Across the lawn, his car waited for him parked on the other side of the street. Tromping over the marigolds in his path, Austin strode toward his car. Opening the trunk of his car, he placed the trash bag filled with his bloody instruments inside. Next, he untied the bags from around his ankles and took out his soaked feet. Austin peeled the dripping socks from himself and left them in the bags, which were then thrown in the trunk as well. He was then free to continue with phase three of his plan.

    Then, he simply started his car and waited. The blue light shining from behind the car clock revealed the time, one a.m. In the dead of night, he listened to the neighborhood. No one stirred from their beds, no dogs barked and no drunken teenagers were stumbling home from late parties; a more perfect scenario couldn't have been crafted for this crimson tale. Austin pressed his foot down slowly on the accelerator, savoring the unusual feeling his cold, clammy feet had against the rubber petal. In his mind, he saw his destination and that was where he aimed his sights.

    That night the earth seemed to help him keep his sinister secret; dark storm clouds rolled and rumbled in from the east. Not long after his journey began, hard pellets of rain hailed from the heavens. Austin flicked on the windshield wipers. A smirk flushed over his lips. He knew all of the sediment, wedged snug inside the rubber grooves of the tires, would be eliminated from this convenient deep cleaning. Perhaps the world is crying, he thought, mourning over the loss of a beautiful angel as she now ascends to be with the immortal Father.  

     All was beneath the heavy, black covering, even with the early morning hours approaching. Austin realized, here, along the road on which he traveled, there were no street lights to guide him. His headlights provided only a sliver of direction through the dark, moonless night. In his mind, he already knew his line of travel; he would cross through the tip Oklahoma, to a small town in the southwestern corner of Kansas called Meade; there he would find a motel to stay the night. Police were scarce in the minuscule town, opportune for his interests.

    Having his plan in place, he allowed his diverse imagination to wander. Never mind how he would coast for the next few days, living in the shadows, hiding his face from the public eye; his mind dwelled on how this situation may unravel, whether it may be to his liking or, taking a devastating turn, to please the family of his first victim. Just the thought of her mutilated body, smashed into the tile, the background dripping with her blood, made a wide grin spread across his chin from ear to ear.

     The constant wish wash wish wash of his windshield wipers flung water from the glass, leaving slashing streaks through his line of vision. A gleaming tear from the clouds above caught Austin’s eye. It was yanked from the dreary sky, fell with its brothers and sisters, and then met a gruesome fate. This reminded him of a little something he’d taken from the woman before phase two had begun. Slipping his hand into his jacket pocket, he searched for his souvenir. Warm metal greeted his touch as he ran the tiny loops over his fingertips. Carefully, Austin grasped it in his palm, and then brought it before his gaze. Light reflected off the rain to illuminate the gold necklace. At the bottom, shimmering in the darkness, hung a simple circular diamond. He looped it around his rear view mirror; watching it hang so effortlessly, he remembered how the young woman had been wearing it flawlessly around her neck, just as the girl before her had.

    The girl before her had only been a child. Austin tightened his grip on the worn leather steering wheel. He remembered it all; her head slamming against the head rest then ricocheting into the window, shattering it. He had no choice but to watch as the blood gushed from her hair line; the skin of her scalp was gaping, revealing an off white color, her skull. As the lively burst of color slowly drained from her crystal blue eyes, her trembling hand tugged at the gold chain, breaking it free from her neck; she placed it securely in to the young hands of Austin.

   Just remembering that day, the sounds of crushing metal and cracking bones, emotion began to overcome Austin. Determined to remain calm, he listened to the soothing pitter patter of the rain as he saw the sign Welcome to Oklahoma! Finally, he thought, only an hour and a half to go till Kansas.