“Finally,” Bess grinned, all sharp teeth and mischief, “I thought you’d never wake up! Let’s have some fun!” I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and shivered. It sure was chilly near the coast at night.
“Bess, is Savannah real?” I asked as she walked by my side back indoors.
“Of course she is. In time you will see and then you will understand.”
The house was silent, lit only by a couple of lamps that emitted a pleasant, warm glow. Empty champagne bottles and half-drunk glasses littered the table, and I noticed remnants of cocaine along with screwed up little baggies. We made our way into the guest bedroom, and Mona was star fishing naked, without her boots this time. It was a lot warmer inside the house, and there was a delicious sheen of perspiration that coated her sumptuous body. The blinds were open, and the moonlighthit her skin, giving it an ethereal glow. Bess closed the bedroom door and locked it, a little laugh escaping her lips, her amber eyes iridescent in the semi darkness. Mona stirred and curled herself into the foetal position. I felt a delicate little hand pulling my trouser leg and she handed me my trusty weasel mask. As I slipped it on, I felt at peace. The melody Bess hummed calmed me and the grisly horror movie that played in my head of the faceless crowd that tortured Savannah spurred me on.
Bess skipped over to the bedside lamp and sunk her teeth into the wire, gnawing through it. Now free of the lamp, it was still connected to the socket, and a little spark made her porcelain frame jolt, and she smiled coldly, her gums bleeding.
“Come, bring the ice bucket over to the bed,” she whispered. Quietly, I took out the empty champagne bottle and put the party-sized ice bucket onto the floor at the foot of the bed. There was a strange whooshing sound in my ears and then the tune materialized, and we began to sing.
Shocks and sparks will take your life, as I destroy your visage. Choke on blood and lose your eyes. Pop goes the weasel!
Mona sat up bleary eyed.
“Hey Caspian,” she said groggily, “what’s with the Halloween mask?”
“This isn’t a mask. It’s my face!” I snarled and shoved her head into the water in the ice bucket. Shethrashed about, her arms flailing, but when I was the weasel, I was as strong as anything, and the bubbling rage infiltrated the very core of my being. Bess put the live wire into the bucket, and we stood back and watched as Mona was electrocuted, her head began to smoke as the current laid waste to her squishy bits. It smelt terrible, like boiled meat and there was an unusual buzzing sound as the electricity coursed through her body. She emptied both her bladder and bowels, leaving a yellowy brown puddle around her, that was soon accompanied by thick, lumpy blood. Her hair began to stand on end and singe. I wanted to gag, but the weasel wouldn’t let me, so I sat in the recesses of my mind like a grisly onlooker.
At last, when she was satisfied that the body had taken enough damage, Bess unplugged the wire from the wall and Mona’s corpse stopped flopping around. Parts of her skin had gone black from electrical burns. Bess grabbed her frazzled hair, lifting her head up, and laughed sadistically when she saw what was left of her face. There were no eyeballs, just blood-filled sockets and her nose slid off down her face like a cheap prosthetic. Her lips were back and had curled up like burnt crackling. Blood and bile dribbled from her mouth. Bess dropped her like discarded garbage.
“Hmm, there’s something missing,” Bess pondered and then she dragged Mona’s boots over to the decimated corpse and impaled the heels into the eye sockets. It made a squelching noise and pink mush trickled out. I giggled like it was thefunniest thing ever, then we left the room, going to check on my dad.
He was asleep with Angel cuddled into him, her head on his chest.
“Angel,” I whispered, my voice raspy like crunchy leaves in the Fall. She opened her eyes and sat up. I slowly went onto the terrace.
“Angel, come out to play!” Bess said, her voice evocative and dripping with the innocence of a child. Angel, as if in a trance followed us outside, not bothering to get dressed.
“Caspian? Is that you?” she said, her voice still thick with sleep.
“Yes, it’s me. Over here.” She came towards Bess and I, stood next to the hot tub.
“Haha! Kinky. I like the mask. You are filthy like your daddy,” she said, frowning when she saw Bess stood next to me smiling like a miniature maniac.
“Want to get into the tub?” I asked, my voice more manly and gruff than it should be for my sixteen years.
“You do see that doll don’t you?” she said fearfully.
“What doll?” I fibbed, “come on, you’re not scared of me are you? Surely a woman of the world like you has no inhibitions or fears.” Angel laughed, blinking and then she realized that she couldn’t see Bess anymore so satisfied, she pushed the lid off the tuband got in.
“Man, I think we did a bit too much coke,” she admitted as she slid her naked form into the bubbling water.
“My dad does too much coke, and fucks too many whores,” I said, spitting the word whore out like it was the most putrid thing ever.
“Hey, it’s just a job. It pays well and I can think of worse things to do to make a buck,” Angel said huffily.
“But your kind ruin relationships and spread disease. You are undeserving of all of this extravagance,” I said, appalled by this brusque slut and her well used cunt.
“Fuck you!” screeched Angel and started to clamber out of the hot tub, but I punched her in the jaw, and she fell back awkwardly, banging her head on the side and drawing blood, the water quickly becoming a grisly red as the wound seeped.
Bess’ laugh carried like windchimes through the air. She was altering the controls of the hot tub, but she’d twisted a knob too far and it had broken off. I could see the temperature gauge steadily climbing.
“Fuck! Why did you hit me?!” Angel exclaimed, gingerly touching her head wound.
“So I could do this!” I growled as I pulled the cover over the hot tub and heaved aweighty, metal umbrella holder on top so there was no way that Angel could escape. Bess climbed up on top of the cover and began dancing, doing the Macarena and singing. I joined in, though my moves were a bit rusty. We sang louder than normal so Angel could hear us over the bubbling, boiling water and her own screams.
Trapped and scared inside the tub, your body boiled ali-ive. Cook you till your skin falls off. Pop goes the weasel!
