The brown paper grocery bag slipped from M’s hands and tore open when it hit the red tiles. Sticky egg yoke oozed from a carton, shattered glass spread across the ground, milk soaked the bag and flowed in the space between tiles. Tomatoes rolled across the kitchen floor, through a pool of blood and stopping at the foot of a bleeding girl tied to a chair.
X stood above the girl, cleaver in hand, stuck in a pose from an 80’s slasher flick. His hand held above her head, ready to slash down, a final killer blow. But he had stopped when M entered the room. His wide eyes, throbbing in their sockets, stared madly at M. His broken, coffee stained teeth glaring from between his thin, blue lips. Blood from the girl was splattered over his transparent, plastic raincoat.
She was sitting topless on a wooden kitchen chair, her face and teats sliced, blood forming a pool underneath her. She was alive but unconscious, it seemed, and a red bubble had formed over her lips. Growing slightly bigger and then slightly smaller. Her breathing was light, almost non-existent.
“Whoa, for a second there, I thought it was someone else,” exclaimed X relieved to see M. He smiled and lowered his knife, which dripped at the tip. “Wait. Did you see anyone suspicious outside?” X was suddenly nervous, trembling at the idea. He was like this, most of the time. Emotions like a pinball machine. M was never sure how to handle his energy. Sometimes X would snap and attack M but usually just stop short of actually killing him, leaving M broken and bleeding. X ran to the window and squinted outside, trying to discern suspicious shapes amongst the bushes and dustbins. “No, there’s no one outside”, replied M, picking up the food. “How long were you planning on torturing her?” He asked pointing a carrot at the girl. “Jesus Christ, she’s only a child. You’ve gone too far this time X, too fucking far. You said you wouldn’t kill children. I made you promise.”
X spun around, from peering out the window, and approached M waving the cleaver menacingly. “She’s not a child, you imbecile.” He picks something off the counter. “She had breasts, can’t you see.” He began to laugh aloud, waving the blade and the lump of bloody meat around the kitchen. “Yes, she HAD breast but she doesn’t anymore. HAHAHAHAHA.” He stops laughing briefly to lick the cutting edge of the cleaver and then continues to guffaw obnoxiously. “HAHAHAHAHA.”
The girl began to scream like a trapped animal, X’s laughing waking her up from her traumatised sleep. Her sliced head tilted back and shook from side to side. Blood ran into her mouth but she didn’t stop her shriek. M was getting disturbed.
He yelled above the girl. “Could you shut her up? The neighbours might hear.” X danced over to the girl and slit her throat in one swift move. She stopped screaming, as she couldn’t anymore and blood streamed down her mangled chest. M turn away as he just couldn’t watch another execution but X revelled in it, fingering the fresh wound.
“Mmmm, I love warm blood. Its texture is almost silky.”
“Stop it”, said M, his voice shaking.
But X continued. “You know, I read somewhere that a persons strength is in their heart. If that’s true, then I say their soul is in their blood. If the blood is pure then so is the soul. This girl, she was the purest of them all.”
M found X to be irredeemably insane. Incurable and inoperable, said the doctors. But what could M do to stop his twin. He could only save him from being caught. But this girl was young. She didn’t deserve to die like some of the others.
“Okay X, you’ve done your damage. Clear out and let me clean up.”
X skipped from the kitchen, taking his raincoat off in the process while M got the industrial cleaner from beneath the sink. He sighed. X was messier this time. The girls’ fluids were sprayed over cupboards and counters. Unidentifiable body parts filled the sink. He’d have to hurry, too. The shop closes soon and they were out of milk.