had worked for with Eve, the risks he had taken, the money spent on her, unraveled as she vomited in her mouth again and again.
“No, no, no …”
Her cheeks distended as her mouth filled with bile with nowhere to go. As her stomach clenched and more vomit shot upward, Eve had no chance to swallow it back in time. As she choked on her own liquids, he released her. She dropped to the floor in a fit of seizures and her eyes rolled back in her head.
Tan-colored stomach contents spilled out her nostrils, cutting off all airways and after another seizure, she stilled on the floor at his feet.
“Mother Mary! Now what?”
If he had known she would throw up at the sight of Father George’s death, he wouldn’t have brought her down for it.
“Dammit.”
He kicked her naked corpse.
“What a waste. I was just thinking we could have more fun before the fireworks later.”
He looked in at Father George’s body. It didn’t appear that George had much success in breaking the seal on the vent, but it was hard to tell as the interior was mostly filled with the white gas.
Mike made up his mind. There was no way he was vacating this building without his African Rock Python. He would take Eve upstairs for one more bout of love making while she was still warm and then leave her to rot.
Instead of pulling her upstairs by her hands and being too close to her putrid vomit, he grabbed her ankles.
“I’m so sorry you had to die like this. I had much better plans for you.”
On each stair, her head bounced with a thud. Vomit dripped from her nose, leaving a grotesque trail, a reminder of his mistake.
“This is all because of the Catholics. I had to do this because of what the Catholics did in Croatia.” He spoke to Eve as if she could still hear him. “Back in the forties, a man named Anton, a practicing Catholic and regular visitor to the Vatican, ran several extermination camps. One of them was headed by a Franciscan friar. They were called the Catholic Ustashi.” At the top of the stairs, he paused and looked back. “Are you listening?” After not getting a response, he started up the last set of stairs dragging Eve’s body behind him.
“The Catholic Ustashi burned their victims alive.” He glanced back again. “It’s a true story. I wouldn’t lie to you. That’s why Father George had to die this way. You understand, don’t you? The eye-for-an-eye thing, live by the sword, die by the sword doesn’t work for humans and for God. But it works great for my boss. In the end, he just gets more souls.”
When he got to the bedroom, he dragged her body over to the bed where he set her feet down. Careful to keep her vomit-leaking head near the pillow area where he wouldn’t spend much time, he lifted her front half up first, then her feet up. He pulled her feet to the end and spread her legs wide. Her neck was craned in an odd position but that didn’t matter. He had no use for the upper part of her body. The urine glistening along her inner thighs aroused him.
He began to undress.
“Have you ever heard of Herman Mudgett?”
Eve didn’t respond.
“I didn’t think so. His other name was Dr. Henry Howard Holmes. He’s referred to as America’s first serial killer. In Chicago, he built a huge mansion, which he called ‘The Castle.’”
Mike had his pants off and worked on the buttons of his shirt.
“Inside this mansion, there were trap doors, secret passageways, fake walls, and hidden staircases.” He held up a finger. “But here’s the best part. He lined rooms with asbestos so they could be turned into homemade gas chambers.” Mike removed his underwear. “He was my inspiration for what happened to Father George.”
Mike crawled onto the bed. Then he pulled on Eve’s hips, raising her buttocks to better suit him. Her skin was clammy and already cool to the touch. He would have to hurry or she would get too
“No, no, no …”
Her cheeks distended as her mouth filled with bile with nowhere to go. As her stomach clenched and more vomit shot upward, Eve had no chance to swallow it back in time. As she choked on her own liquids, he released her. She dropped to the floor in a fit of seizures and her eyes rolled back in her head.
Tan-colored stomach contents spilled out her nostrils, cutting off all airways and after another seizure, she stilled on the floor at his feet.
“Mother Mary! Now what?”
If he had known she would throw up at the sight of Father George’s death, he wouldn’t have brought her down for it.
“Dammit.”
He kicked her naked corpse.
“What a waste. I was just thinking we could have more fun before the fireworks later.”
He looked in at Father George’s body. It didn’t appear that George had much success in breaking the seal on the vent, but it was hard to tell as the interior was mostly filled with the white gas.
Mike made up his mind. There was no way he was vacating this building without his African Rock Python. He would take Eve upstairs for one more bout of love making while she was still warm and then leave her to rot.
Instead of pulling her upstairs by her hands and being too close to her putrid vomit, he grabbed her ankles.
“I’m so sorry you had to die like this. I had much better plans for you.”
On each stair, her head bounced with a thud. Vomit dripped from her nose, leaving a grotesque trail, a reminder of his mistake.
“This is all because of the Catholics. I had to do this because of what the Catholics did in Croatia.” He spoke to Eve as if she could still hear him. “Back in the forties, a man named Anton, a practicing Catholic and regular visitor to the Vatican, ran several extermination camps. One of them was headed by a Franciscan friar. They were called the Catholic Ustashi.” At the top of the stairs, he paused and looked back. “Are you listening?” After not getting a response, he started up the last set of stairs dragging Eve’s body behind him.
“The Catholic Ustashi burned their victims alive.” He glanced back again. “It’s a true story. I wouldn’t lie to you. That’s why Father George had to die this way. You understand, don’t you? The eye-for-an-eye thing, live by the sword, die by the sword doesn’t work for humans and for God. But it works great for my boss. In the end, he just gets more souls.”
When he got to the bedroom, he dragged her body over to the bed where he set her feet down. Careful to keep her vomit-leaking head near the pillow area where he wouldn’t spend much time, he lifted her front half up first, then her feet up. He pulled her feet to the end and spread her legs wide. Her neck was craned in an odd position but that didn’t matter. He had no use for the upper part of her body. The urine glistening along her inner thighs aroused him.
He began to undress.
“Have you ever heard of Herman Mudgett?”
Eve didn’t respond.
“I didn’t think so. His other name was Dr. Henry Howard Holmes. He’s referred to as America’s first serial killer. In Chicago, he built a huge mansion, which he called ‘The Castle.’”
Mike had his pants off and worked on the buttons of his shirt.
“Inside this mansion, there were trap doors, secret passageways, fake walls, and hidden staircases.” He held up a finger. “But here’s the best part. He lined rooms with asbestos so they could be turned into homemade gas chambers.” Mike removed his underwear. “He was my inspiration for what happened to Father George.”
Mike crawled onto the bed. Then he pulled on Eve’s hips, raising her buttocks to better suit him. Her skin was clammy and already cool to the touch. He would have to hurry or she would get too
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