All in a day's work

I.

     I know this place. I’ve been here many, many times, but something is different about it this time. I remember the damp and musty smell very well. It was very humid down there, almost saturating. Even after I would leave here to go stay the night at my girlfriend’s apartment, I would carry that odor in my nostrils for hours. I particularly liked the nights when I would blend that moist, dank basement air with the metallic scent of newly spilt blood. I can almost taste the iron in it now as I think about it, like when I would get a paper cut in kindergarten and suck the wound to stop the bleeding.

Sometimes I wondered if my girlfriend could smell it on me too, especially during sex, and if it turned her on the same way it did me. It was almost as if the fragrance
that seeped out of my pores was an aphrodisiac, and the harder I fucked her, the more I would sweat out the potent aroma, commanding her into a shuddering, jaw-clenching climax.

But like I said earlier, this time something is very different about this place. I feel like it’s all slipping away. I don’t want this to stop goddamn it.

Something is not right.

Fading away.

Something is not… right… 

II.

“Good morning Mr. Barnes. It’s time for your medication. How did you sleep last night?” said the fragile looking man in the white hospital scrubs.

The light from the buzzing fixtures above was blinding. Benson Barnes knew there was someone standing over him asking him questions, but he could not define the lines through the overwhelming white haze that enveloped everything. It kind of reminded him of being up north at the family cottage as a kid and looking out his bedroom window as the heavy snowfall of winter smothered everything in sight. He liked the way old man winter put a choke hold on almost every living thing outside while he was safe in his bed watching. But Benson certainly did not like the blizzard he was in now. Benson had no control, and that terrified him. He liked control. He liked to have power over other people. To hear their plea’s as they begged him to please let them go, that he didn’t have to do this and that they wouldn’t tell anyone. Praying whispers to God, pretending they were innocent.

“Mr. Barnes, can you hear me?” the blurry figure said in a soothing and professional tone.

Benson tried to reply, but the only thing that came out of his throat was a few weak, mumbled sounds. He wanted to ask the man obscured in white where the hell he was, and why he couldn’t move.

“Now, now Mr. Barnes, just relax. Soon this will all be over.” as the man swabbed Benson’s arm with an alcohol prep.

“Not soon enough damn it” said a sharper, more abrasive voice in the background. “If it were up to me I’d cut off the cocksuckers’ balls and make him eat ‘em, that sick bastard, killing all those innocent pretty girls like that.”

Just when things finally started coming into actual focus, just when Benson started to remember how he got here, he felt a stinging prick on his forearm and everything faded back to white…

Yes Benson thought.

Take me back home for just a little while longer.

III.

Ah yes, here we are. Back home.

Back to this wondrous place that has kept me going for so long, with so many fine memories. Like the time I spent that fabulous week down here with Jenny McCracken. She had such a beautiful face, with eyes more green than rarest Colombian emerald. Her perfect skin was so similar to the dolls that sat on my grandmother’s fancy cabinet in the family room. That I dare not touch, or else risk getting whacked with a switch from the tree out back.

Oh how I cherish those days I had with Jenny and her flawless features. I wish I could have kept her around longer, but I knew that despite that immaculate shell of a body, she was neither heavenly nor pure. She was evil and ugly inside. A life sucking virus dwelled within that needed to be eradicated. She was a malicious bitch with no regards for my feelings, and had to be stopped from infecting the innocents of the world any further, and I was the cure.

I will never forget the look in those rare emerald eyes when Jenny seen her reflection in my blade and realized that her time had come to an end, just as so many others before her. My sacred job was very exciting, as was seen by the growing bulge in my pants as Jenny lay there gasping for oxygen, the exorcism almost complete. It seemed like the more blood that left her body, the more swollen I got. My girlfriend unknowingly benefited from Jenny’s deathly cleansing as well and was treated to multiple orgasms that night.

Oh how I love this place that I’ve called home for over thirty years. This has always been my favorite area of the house, down here in the basement. It was my favorite long before I had turned it into my workshop, which allowed me to deliver so many nefarious souls to damnation. As a youngster I would explore the nooks and crannies as if it were underground catacombs, or pretend I had discovered a never seen before cavern deep in the stomach of the Earth, which I simply named “Benny’s Cave”.

This was long before that wretched bitch of a whore showed up to infect my father with her venomous snatch and destroy my family. Her macabre intentions were cloaked in a beautiful radiance that only I could see through. I had the gift of true sight, and her camouflage didn’t work on me like it did my father. That evil succubus cunt became the first of many demon bitches I had to slay to protect that which was righteous and clean.

But this time it’s different down here.

This time my sanctuary is empty. There are no demons to rid and there is nothing I can do about it. All I can do is remember all the good deeds I have done and hope that I made a dent, however small it may have been. Hopefully I spared a handful of families from ruin. Oh God I feel it slipping away again. Don’t make me leave, please. I pray that hopefully I…

I have…

Fading…

IV.

“O.K. boys, wake him up!” shouted a robust and red-faced prison guard, pausing just enough to take a bite out of whatever kind of greasy dripping sandwich his fat fingers held onto. With a highly visible mouthful of food, the guard continued to shout, “It’s time to send that devil straight to hell where he belongs!” but this time the words were accompanied with flying chunks of half chewed meat.

There was no use trying to wake up Mr. Benson Barnes, whom the newspapers labeled as “Benny the butcher”, because the drugs given to him earlier to keep the notorious serial killer sedated were still busy in his system. When Benson Barnes finally awoke, he found himself strapped to a motorized stainless steel table. IV’s connected his arms to the death inducing contraption that would pump the lethal cocktail into his veins.

There was a lanky priest standing next to Benson’s death bed, quietly reading last rites scripture, as well as the two men in the white hospital scrubs to make sure the procedure went smooth. The table Benny lay on started moving him in a vertical position so that the audience of grieving family members behind the glass had a good view of the monster being executed.

- The End