From the corner of my eye, a shadow, then solid, Death has come, at last. He hasn’t come for me, instead Brother Reaper has come for other souls, I am only the provider. My sister should be pleased to find him here, and I do like to see her small smile as her eye meets His. She being betrothed to one of the most dangerous beings in all worlds, she understands the difficulties.

He points, the burning hell in from His fingertip enough to drive another, unprepared mind to the brink of insanity, and I glance over my shoulder to find a handsome, light-haired man standing behind me. Turning back to Brother Death, I raise my eyebrow, unsure of what he requires of me. “My name is Casper Johanson. I was procured from my place in the pits to write down your words,” this soft-spoken individual intoned, his voice a honeycoated salve that smoothed my edges considerably. “You are wondering what I did to deserve that Hell? I earned it. In 1544 I murdered twenty-three women, peeled their still living faces from their heads, dried them and delivered them to their families. Brother Reaper watched as the attempted beheading failed, and took me to where I have resided since. Shall we begin? Tell me a story.”

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Hello. I am Majesty. Yes, that is my real name. My mother believed that we were descended from royalty, her research showing that we are in line, should everyone die, for the crown of some small country. With no extradition treaties. Self sustaining, self-sufficient, and with ties or bonds to no one. My destination should my deeds come to light to the wrong people, and should I need to remedy that situation. Many bodies fit in a grave after all. Is there a more fitting place than a graveyard?

It’s a beautiful sight isn’t it? A party in the place of the dead may seem inappropriate to you, and I can understand your thoughts on that. But as I sit here, under the tree on this rickety ass lawn chair, I see it differently. Our dear friend’s passing has left us all somewhere between grief and delight. An odd mix to be sure, but accurate nonetheless. He left us too soon, when he was still needed in their lives, our lives…He was needed in our lives, and he still is. I suppose I could remedy the situation. It would mean the wrath and possible loss of many should they choose to turn their backs. Should they turn away, they may find a knife buried in the nape of their necks.

I’m a killer. I’ve slayed many. I’m not sorry for it. No remorse, so sayeth the Beast. Not the first time, not this time. He deserves it, friend or not and he is paying even as I sit here. This wine is luscious by the way, if you can imbibe it. Watching my loved ones celebrate the life, and death of our friend, who lies below their feet brings me joy. It amuses me to hear him sobbing and punching the lid of his casket, screaming my name, begging, and his desperation makes me want to laugh. Inappropriate behaviour? Perhaps so, perhaps not. Some will find my little slip up amusing. They are so indulgent with me, and at times it makes my blood boil, other times I adore the squishy and horrible feelings it brings.

Ha! Badass by Saliva…One of my Sisters knows me very well. She must have figured it out. I look to find her laughing with another sister, as she cranks up the music. She smirks in my direction, stomping her foot right above where his head would be. I wish I could say I was surprised, but I”m not. She finds it impossible to hold back her thoughts, and I approve.  To hold back makes your soul bleed.

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Tell you a story? A dark little tale to chill your thoughts? It begins, as all great tales do, with a boy and a girl. Leo was the bane of my existence and the greatest love of my life. Strange how that is, that I spent my days longing to hear his voice, and wanting to cut the tongue from his head the second he opened his mouth. My sister laughed at us often, saying it must be true love.  It was I suppose, was being the operative word. Being that as it may, we laughed with her, confident that our love/loathe relationship would endure. He forgot. He forgot what I am. That was a lesson learned. IS a lesson learned.

I have him on an earpiece, should I turn it on, I’m sure I’d be treated to all the curses that exist in our world and some new ones too. When I mentioned that I could hear him, it wasn’t in my mind. Leo is very displeased with me, and if by some blue-eyed miracle he does manage to find his way free, my end would come in the most brutal of manners. He won’t though. I made sure of it.

He’d been away for some time, our relationship called due to Loathe, though the tentative reaching out had begun on his part once again. Huh. Interesting that this was only last week. Time grows wings. The sweet whisperings via electronic media, the I miss yous, and I love yous, can’t we try agains, all intended to soften my fury and draw me back as he’d been able to time and time again. Except for this time.

I was bored you see, my current playmate, lets call him John for lack of a more polite term, had, lets say, taken a leave of absence, permanently. That he suggested that we bring in one of my virtuous sisters into our games was a roaring fury in my ears, and even now my blood boils at the memory of him attempting to corner one of the beauties, assuming I wouldn’t find out. I don’t share and certainly not with one of my Beloved Ones. She let her thoughts be known, she of the poison tongue, and flayed his ego alive. From that point on he had sulked and skulked the edges of our bitch sessions like a wounded beast.

My annoyance had taken its last as he tried once again to coerce her into giving him what he wanted, in front of my eyes, as though I were invisible. I cut his lying heart from his body, held it in my hand as it beat its last, and his eyes stared in shock as I ripped it free. I suppose I should have told the guests at that night’s dinner party that they were indulging in a rare delicacy, but ignorance is bliss they say. I’m sure most wouldn’t care, but some sensibilities survive even the darkest souls. I heard no complaints however.

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Family means never asking why, just grabbing the shovel and my sister did just that, pausing to shake her head at his prone body. “He really was stupid. How could you not notice you were standing on bright blue tarps? ” she muttered, her breath coming in harsh gasps as we enfolded the large plastic sheet around his limp body. The crinkling noises were making me nervous, agitated, settling on my nerves like an unreachable itch. My phone screamed, making me jump out of my noisy mind, and I snatched it from the end table where I had placed it before wrapping my plaything in his plastic shroud. “Leo again?” My sister’s tone was heavy with disapproval, full of barbed wire and iodine as I nodded absently. It really was the perfect situation, and one I hadn’t needed pre-meditate. “It’s time. This time he sent the message meant for his whore to me,” I snickered, holdng the lighted screen out for her to peruse.  She chuckled, giving John a hard nudge with her foot, before adjusting the heavy gloves on her small hands and grasping the bulbous end of the wrapping, lifting as she stood. “I call heads! Lets get it done. Everyone will be arriving for dinner soon.”

We buried John in the copse of trees about 2 miles from my home, where the shadows loom and the creatures had abandoned, returning home filthy but with plenty of time to clean up, and begin preparing the fine meal for my guests to partake of. Partake they did, and enjoyed it.

One of the celebrants bares his teeth and claws, and receives a punch on the arm for his trouble, a sign of approval from one of the openly savage monsters in our midst. Sad eyes from a sister leaning on the tombstone, her fingers trailing over the name etched on the stone. Oh to see her torn hurts my heart. Or it would If I had one. That sits upon the desk of the reigning Royal, a sacrifice willingly given.

Brother Death’s gaze falls on me, leaving me cold as I reach to tap the earpiece, turning on the roaring rage full volume. “You motherfucking bitch! What the FUCK! Jesus Fucking Christ you numb cunt! LET ME OUT! Jes!! Let me out! Are you really going to let me die?”  Finding himself in this situation, I suppose it would drive the most eloquent of us to guttertalk. “Leo, Is that anyway to speak to a lady? Comfortable? Oh, I guess not. Too bad. Are you enjoying the music? Any requests?”

“NO I’M NOT COMFORTABLE YOU SICK CUNT! Let me OUT! You need help. A lot of it. LET ME THE FUCK OUT!” Oh, he’s angry. His fear settles on my nerves like a warm blanket. Pure naked terror.

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*notes: She smiles that sweet, secret smile again, her voice carefully modulated, cold even. I think her mother was right to name her Majesty. She is very controlled, poised.*

“It appears, my sweet, that you are the one who needs the help. Our friends are fiends, every one of them. Some know you are there and approve. How does that make you feel?” He kicks the end of the wooden casket hard. Oh my head, the feedback is terrible. Now punching the top of his prison and sputtering again as dirt lands on his face.

“There’s not much air in there. I suggest you give it a rest. Now, what music can I provide to make your…passage a little more entertaining?” My mother taught me about poise, concern for others and I am attempting to employ it, yet my rage is bubbling closer to the barrier. On and on he spits his curses, his threats, oh the things he would do to me when he got loose. He could try. “Goodbye for now darling. You really should think about what landed you in this position. Meanwhile, enjoy the party, I made it for you, like a last, long, kiss goodbye.” The frivolity has gained momentum I see. Ah, the party has arrived. Someone has turned the speakers face down onto the ground and turned up the base. They are so evil. I love them all.

* “How you get him in there?” *

The dinner party had been a raving success, with no leftovers and demands for my recipe for the appetizer still incoming. As though I could feasibly tell any of them what I had served. After seeing my guests on their way, I found myself alone, and in need of company. How lucky for me that incredible bitch Lady Luck had chosen to smile on me at long last. A well-timed text awoke the hunger that had been gnawing at me for days. It was friday, the day the cemetery employees dug the graves needed for the weekend, and after a quick romp in the nearest mausoleum the head groundskeeper agreed to provide another hole in which to fill at my leisure, far off from the beaten track, in a little used part of the landscape. It was a thing of beauty and I gladly rewarded him for his trouble. He’d taken the liberty of preparing Leo’s final resting place, complete with a nasty little surprise that delighted me in its ingenuity.

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Leo arrived early, as I’d expected he would, dressed in light shorts and a thin t-shirt, that showed his chiseled muscles and left little to the imagination. The small voice whispered in my head, waking the old desires that had been hibernating there and we wasted no time with words, simply devouring one another until the hunger had been slaked. How lucky I was that sexual compatibility had never been an issue.

Not a word had we spoken, using our voices, and I read him like a book, the way he kept glancing at his phone, his watch. “Are you late for something?” I asked him lightly, running the tips of my fingers across his lips, “am I keeping you from something?” A glance at his watch, before smiling and leaning to kiss me, a glance at his phone, “of course not. I’m here with you.” he replied, jumping as his factory ringtone shouts in the silence. I stared at him, listening to his conversation, noting how careful he was being, how he didn’t bother to hide that secret, pleased smile that surfaced with the flush in his cheeks. His whore. He turned away, waking a short distance so that his voice was muffled. It didn’t matter. It meant he wouldn’t see it coming.

“No I didn’t fuck her. Why would I want to? I want to be with you, not her.” He was standing on the edge of his grave, whispering his loving lies to another poor unsuspecting soul. The metal blade of the shovel the groundskeeper had thoughtfully left nearby clanged against his skull, and his hand opened, dropping the phone onto the grass as he tumbled into the wooden coffin at the bottom. He lay there unmoving as I snatched up the squawking rectangle from the dewy ground. The tinny squeak of her voice reached my ears, and I placed it to my ear as she said, “Leo? LEO? What did the psycho bitch do to you?”

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“Psycho bitch? Is that what I am? Listen to me. Mark my words well. He is not coming back to you. EVER. You would do well to keep this knowledge to yourself. If you breathe a word to anyone I will find you. And I will kill you. Do you understand me?” A sharp intake of breath, a watery gasp, and silence greeted my demands, not a word was spoken. “I expect an answer.” “Yes,” she whispered, “alright, please don’t kill him.” I laughed in her ear, and I heard her shiver as she tried to shake off the tears in her voice. “Not yet, he has much to answer for.” A dial tone. Huh…She had balls, I”ll give her that.

A muffled groan reminding me that my love awaited my attentions, and I slid his phone into my small purse hanging on the tree branch nearby. It wouldn’t have done for him to have it in there with him, and I prefered to play it safe. An electric nail gun lay on the ground, peeking out from under the black plastic bag that had kept it dry until it was needed. I wrapped my hand around its handle, my fingers caressing the trigger, “Coming darling,” I sang as the fog rolled in, hiding my deeds from the eye and echoing the sharp reports of each nail as I enclosed him in his eternal prison.

* “Why bury him?* “

I wanted to see how it would play out. I’m not into poison’s, per se. I do hold high regard for Mother Nature and her small vicious victories over those who are oblivious Her wonders. Knives are fun but they leave a mess and death comes too quick. As you well know, Death, slow death, has its benefits. A person can gain so much from their suffering. Why? There are reasons. Payment for his actions. Sometimes lesson’s hurt, sometimes, they will kill you. Figuratively and in reality.

We have an uninvited, though not entirely unwelcome guest. Propriety states I must stand and make my greetings, lest I provoke his brutal attentions. I sense your amusement at that, and though I make no mistake in saying I hold no interest, I point out that devotion has little to do with death wish.

You are a very bad girl Majesty. Bad girls should be punished, His deep voice rumbles, sending a shiver of silver thrill down my spine. How amusing. “Are you going to try your luck? I dare you.” I can feel the switch wiggling in its socket. His gaze is so intense, low and mean. It ignites other feelings as well, though for sanity’s sake I will spare you the details. He is closer than he’s been before and frankly I’m bothered by this as much as his interest in my work. You think you could win, his voice is cold and calculating, challenging. He knows I can’t resist a challenge. He is huge, fearsome, and I am afraid. He is more the killer than I could ever be.

Someone has put on Slipknot and it suits the tension building inside me, like the Rage Sirens. Laughter and greetings ring out as more mourners come to celebrate. Ah…a real send off. How delightful.

* “Do you have any fear Majesty? You are taking on someone who could snap your neck without thought.”*

Yes, I’m aware he could kill me now, if he chooses. He would have a fight on his hands. He knows it. And it would get us nowhere, just leave two more bodies for them to clean up and ruin the fun.

HIs hand finds my throat, thumb digging into the tender place where my jaw connects, I could kill you now, he growls into my face, as I push the sharp point of my blade into his flesh,  just above his Adam’s apple.  The tighter he squeezes, the deeper the blade goes. “As could I. So what do we do?” The switch shudders now, the fury in my heart bubbling so close to the surface. Exquisite pain. The tip of my blade dimples the soft flesh under the shelf of his chin, bringing a blood ruby to the surface. My eye is drawn to the warm red, sparkling like a jewel in the sunlight. “Do you see yourself losing? Don’t push it. I’m really not in the mood.”

Drop it or I’ll end you here. “Our discussion as been noticed,”   The music screams, it fills my ears as we stand at our impasse, the hanging droplet of blood shimmering and once again catching my eye, and I drop my knife to the ground, holding my hands up to show my concession. Tell me how you got him there.

“You can read the transcripts like the rest. Once is enough. You won’t do anything while they watch. I’m unarmed, and they know it.” Death comes to us all. For once I agree with him, “Indeed and He is here. Come say hello, they know you are here now, they will hunt you down. You can inspect my handiwork. and let go of my throat”

He squeezes tighter, momentarily glaring at the gathering and chuckling as they recoil. I giggle a little too, finding it amusing, rubbing at my throat as he releases his hold. I tap the earpiece and Leo’s voice explodes in my ear, muttering a litany of crude explications that would make a sailor cry. “Hello sweetheart. Did you miss me?” I giggled as my little band approaches the silent partygoers. I have some new ones to try out now. “I am with a mutual friend. He’s come to join the party. See, you are loved, so many familiar faces come to see you off in style.” “You fucking bitch, I’ll cut your head off. I’ll make your mother wish she’d swallowed you.” I take exception to that particular slight, feel my hackles stand at attention at his low and mean laughter. “Oh mommy issues, too fucking bad. Get me the fuck out of here and I might let you live,” his voice now little more than the crude growlings of a feral animal.

A hand on my neck stops me in my tracks. I feel it brush my hair from my shoulder, exposing my neck and the small wire that connects me to our dear friend. What is this. His breath so close to my ear makes me shiver, to have him so close and not be facing him makes my stomach drop to my knees. “What do you think it is? It’s an earpiece so I can talk to our friend, see how he’s getting along. Want to say hello?” I offer, unable to tamp down the smartassery that always masks my fear. His hand moves from my neck to my waist, holding me there as if he could read my mind. I was prepared to bolt, for all my false bravado I was terrified. She’s taken such care to give you a proper send off, you’d think you would be a little more appreciative,  he breathes right next to my ear, making my skin crawl and flush, Refrain from mentioning her family. Or I will dig you up myself and tear you apart. Understood.  Harsh breathing in my hear, hot breath on my flesh, and I was left speechless, unable to move.

“Dig me up. I dare you. I’ll finish her ass while you watch and then take care of you. And all the rest up there dancing on my grave.” I have no voice to speak with, as my breath staggers from my chest, The hand is gone from my waist, and is flicking my hair over my shoulder once again. I automatically run my fingers through it, rearranging it so that it is more natural, lifting my eyes to meet those waiting, all standing still and simply watching, “You are scaring them. Want to give it a rest?” Close to my other ear, he drops a dozen words, away from the mic and other ears, and I stare surprised at him, with a small smile on my face. “We shall see. Meanwhile, your adoring public awaits.”

He moves for ward, a stalking beast towards those that I adore, and I wince in future pain as several of the ladies rush him, arms out. They simply amaze me. “Jes what are you doing? You hate me, I get it. But this is lunacy, you’ll feel bad tomorrow and it’ll be too late. And bringing that psycho here? What are you thinking?” His tone scratches at my doubts, and my eyes fall on the small tractor that the groundsman had used to dig Leo’s  hole. “You’re right. I do hate you. I didn’t invite him. He just CAME. As though I have control. What am I thinking? I’m thinking you deserve your comeuppance, you’ve earned it. ” I grab a plate and fill it with food I probably won’t eat, smiling at the partygoers with grim cheer, as I await his answer. He always had to have the last word and I knew it was coming. “Great party!” one of the girls yells, holding up a bottle of beer in salute, her middle finger waving around. “Everyone say hi!! The dearly departed is listening!”

Someone had turned off the music, and I heard several gasps and at least one, “No fuckin way,” ring out in the screaming silence. Moment of truth it seemed, and I reached around to feel for the haft of my short blade, dropping my plate on the table as I pulled it free, and prepared to rush the first one who made a move. Even Brother Death had drawn near, hovering closer to his betrothed, his hand resting on her shoulder.

*”It appears you have a few that are not fans of your choice.”*

I am aware of that. So be it. “What the fuck are you waiting for? Say hello?” a strong masculine voice rings out, “Hey there my friend, having a good time?” He laughs out loud, rasing his glass and encouraging yet more greetings from the partygoers. I felt the tension dissipate, and with it the eye throbbing rage that had been simmering just below the surface.

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“Jes. Let me out. She meant nothing to me, none of them did. Please, I love you,”  his voice has lowered several octaves, and it sets my teeth on edge. He ALWAYS did this and I always gave in, and hated myself in the morning. “When you play with fire, you get burned. Sometimes it will eat you alive.” I press a small blue button connected to wires that I had placed on the back of the tombstone, and waited. “A harsh huff, and a muffled whine of pain were the only precursors to the howl of pain that followed, “What the fuck….WHAT THE FUCK YOU FUCKING BITCH WHAT DID YOU DO!”

*Notes: She has the most disturbing smile on her face, and it changes her from merely pretty to a creature unreal, a most dangerous one. My Master has stiffened as her gaze falls upon his face.*

“They are fire ants. Cultivated and raised with love and fresh, warm meat. You should be nicely coated in honey by now. They meant nothing to you….they mean everything to you, including the one you married last week. Too bad your son won’t know his father. And she will never have to know what you’ve done. Goodbye Leo.”  His anguish cuts off mid scream, as I drop the earpiece into a half empty glass of wine, letting my gaze fall on the revelers at hand.

One, only one chose to leave, opening her mouth to scream, her eyes wild as she took in the creatures surrounding her, Sinners and Saints, Friends and Fiends. They tore her apart. What was left fit in kitchen garbage bag. Easily buried. My lethal friend awaits me. We have some business to take care of. Never fear, you will see me again.

“The character Marcus Miller is based on Matt Farnsworth’s character The Orphan Killer” All rights reserved”

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@MelanieMcCurdie2014

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