The coffee rolled from the center of the counter, passed through a pool of blood, and then dripped from the edge. The tick tick tick could be heard in the now silent cafe. Blaine Carver looked at his work, smiled, and tilted his head ever so slightly as he thought about how much better he could do. He then left through the double-pane glass doors leaving the bodies of the customers and employees to stew in this hot summer weather.
After quitting at the cafe and before leaving, he had washed his machete. He did this because he knew no one would understand what he’d done. The bloody weapon would likely set off more alarms than merely the act walking down the street with a clean one in his hand, and although the walk wasn’t too far, he didn’t want to take the chances.
The other reason he wiped her down was that Lacy deserved the pampering. She was the epitome of craftsmanship. The black anodize accentuated the polished edge of this perfectly ground blade. He couldn’t let people see her in any condition other than pure perfection when he wasn’t busy slicing or dicing.
Not surprisingly, no one noticed the 18-inch blade in his hand, or if they did, they didn’t say anything. This wasn’t anything he thought as unusual. In the past, he’d seen and heard people ignoring the brutality of life simply so they wouldn’t have to get involved. From a wife getting beat on in the middle of the street to the local Kroger being robbed at gunpoint to rape to murder. He knew no one cared, and if they did, it was because they were busybodies that needed the attention.
As he entered the publisher’s building, the first thing Blaine noticed how beautiful the woman at the front desk was, and he even caught himself trying to hide the machete behind his leg. This, of course, made Lucy all the more obvious, and the secretary immediately became terrified. Blaine didn’t waste time. He ran up to her, and she screamed as she picked up the phone. It didn’t take long for her to register that calling for help was going to take too long, so she got up to run. She didn’t make it far. He planted Lucy right between her neck and shoulder as hard as he possibly could.
He tried to pull it free, but he buried it too deep. The blood poured out of her neck, wetting her clothes as she gurgled for help. The wound of mangled, torn flesh reminded him of barbecue roast beef. It was his favorite dish growing up, not by choice but because it the was only meal his father would eat. For this reason, his stomach gurgled. God, did he hate his father.
He wiggled Lucy a couple times but she was stubborn. So, he resorted to putting his foot on her back and pushed. Lucy finally released her bite, and he pulled the wedged weapon free.
As the receptionist fought for her life, he considered giving her another whack to the back of her skull just to end it. After all, she was beautiful. She didn’t deserve this, but he thought it might expend too much energy. He needed more if he was to pull back on at least another forty people.
She’ll die anyway, he thought as he went to her computer. Perhaps maybe she deserves to suffer. Who’s to say otherwise?
Blaine wasn’t familiar with the internal mainframe, but he was able to navigate well enough to find the number to the office of the man who made him do this, the man who took away his future.
The receptionist was an early casualty, he had planned to kill Frank Villas first and then kill as many people as he could on his way out. He had also suspected, however, that he would have to do some bad things on the way to Franks office, and that was okay as long as he got his chance to kill him.
The elevator dinged a few times, and the slow-moving car finally made it to the first floor. When the doors opened, there were three people inside. An attractive man in his 40s stood to the right of two women. He was the kind of man that needed attention, and he didn’t care from who he got it. One of ladies was almost too heavy to agree with the internal weight management system of the elevator, but she was still too big for comfort. The other woman was slender, but boring. Probably a religious freak who couldn’t be bothered to show a little skin once in a while.
I can’t let them leave, he thought, knowing full well if they saw what he did to the receptionist, they’d call the police and end it all for him.
They tried to push past him, but he didn’t let them. The obese woman took a whack to the head, and her skull split clean in two. The man tried to grab Blaine, but with quicker movements, Blaine was able to hack of one of the man’s hands, which dangled loosely by nary a thread of skin. He stabbed him through the neck. Ashe pulled Lucy free, the slender woman tripped over the larger one, and when she went down, Blaine held Lucy against the woman’s neck.
He knelt down close enough to talk into her ear, and he said, “Why are you so prude?”
She only whimpered, unable to comprehend his question in the face of all the fear and confusion.
He continued, “Such a pretty bitch like you, I’ll bet you’d have made some skunky church whore a happy man.”
She started to scream for help, but he quickly stabbed her in the back. It was difficult the first time, but after the second stab, the blade broke through her rubs and punctured her lungs. She gasped for air for a short moment until he hacked her neck a few times to fully decapitate her.
He stood, a little woozy and out of breath. Looking at the aftermath, he had to drag the bodies out of the way of the door, which was going to take a little effort. One he moved all three, though, the elevator doors closed and it rode smoothly all the way to floor M.
In the hallway, he looked around and found a gold plate riveted to the wall. It had Frank Villabos’s name, under which was the office number M213, and and arrow pointing down the hallway.
It couldn’t be any easier, he thought.
No one bothered him as he made his way through the corridors. When he finally reached Frank’s office, the door was ajar. Sitting in one of the seats was a little girl who couldn’t reach the floor. Franks was laughing and telling her a joke about some disney character. Blaine stepped inside and closed the door.
“Who are you?” Frank asked, and his face when ghost white. He had no idea who was in his office, he he certainly knew what the bloody machete meant. He said, “Please, leave my daughter out of this. For the love of God, let her go.”
Blaine walked to the girl, looked down, and smiled. She was crying by then, her tears wetting the sides of her face. He smoothed her golden brown hair out of the way, and said, “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.”
He stepped back and pointed at the door with Lucy. The girl hesitated, and Blaine screamed, “Now!”
She hopped off the chair, and started across the room. She tripped over her own feet, struggled to get up, and rant to the door. She struggled again to open the heavy door, but she finally got it open. She ran screaming down the hall and Blaine approached Frank.
Frank said, “What do you want, man?”
“I want your head in my refrigerator.”
“What the f–” Frank started to say, but Blaine hacked the man’s head off. It took a few more tries than the woman on the first floor, but Frank was considerably meatier.
He set the Frank’s head on the desk, and right next to it he noticed a small letter written by the Frank’s daughter.
I love you very much. You are the best daddy. You always make me laff. Even when I am sad you make me feel happy. My teacher telled me to write this letter to you. You are a good daddy. I hope you have a good day. I hope we can go to the playground when you get home.
It was at that moment, something changed in Blaine. He thought about how that little girl loved her father, and how good he must have treated her in order to get that kind of love in return. This was a love Blaine never knew. His father was an abusive drunk and his mother was a literal whore. There was no love at his house growing up. The only thing he could find to make himself feel better was writing, and that all came crashing down when Frank Villabos took it away from him.
Blaine stretched his arms, wiped the blade clean with his shirt, took Franks head by the hair, and left the office. Today would be his day to show everyone his pain. Today would be his day to teach the world they can’t mess with Blaine Carver, for this day he will finally shine.
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