Til Death (or Dismemberment) Do Us Part
WHEN HE COULD OPEN HIS EYES ALL HE COULD SEE WAS A LIGHT. Very powerful and aimed directly into his face. He could hear her moving around, humming something that might be tuneless or might be a tune. He was so groggy, he couldn't tell.
He couldn't feel his body. He was fully immobile. As he came to, he realized in a moment of panic that he couldn't feel his tongue. At all.
What the fuck is this asshattery, then?
"Are you waking up, lover? I'm sorry about your tongue, Sweetie, but I had to take it. Can't have you talking to people about me, can I? I'm a little sad because even though you were always a blowhard, I'll miss our conversations about things. Hold on a sec. You won't feel this except for a little pressure but this thing is really loud."
He heard an electric saw rev up, wind down, rev up and whine as if cutting through bone and meat. He felt something but nothing like pain.
"I think I doped you up enough for this but if you start to feel the pain, nod or something. I have plenty more where that came from. Anyway, time for a break!
"You're probably wondering about a few things. First, no, I'm not killing you. This was never the plan. You were supposed to continue to ignore things, chalk them up to my quirkiness, keep on keeping on, right? But you couldn't. I suppose I became complacent. You were the least suspicious man I'd ever met. You just trusted so openly! I hope you know what a truly rare quality that is.
"So, no. Not killing you. Just, I don't know, hobbling you so you don't go out and tell everyone about my secret identity. Oooo... I like that. Secret identity. It's like I'm a superhero... or villain, rather. Totally up your alley.
"I suppose the real question is how could someone who loves you lie about this secret identity for so long? Eight years. Wow. That's a bit more complicated. When we met, you seemed to fall in love with me almost immediately. You were so attentive and romantic. You were just so much nicer to me than anyone else I'd been with. I gravitate toward the darker, more fucked up guys and you had a job, wore a collared shirt, weren't an alcoholic or junkie. You were respectable in your way.
"Okay, confession time. You're the only man I've ever been in a relationship with whom I have not killed, dismembered, and stuffed into a barrel of acid. You're special and I hope you realize that. You did nothing wrong, Honey. I just couldn't love you fully. You said last night that you thought I might be a sociopath. Maybe so but I think the Netflix series about me will label me a psychopath. I do believe I've had love for you even if it didn't fit a marriage kind of love.
"At first, I loved the idea of you. Then I learned to love you but not the way you loved me. I never fell for you, there wasn't that weak knees, swooning feeling. Just a lot of affection for the man you were and how much you loved me. I suppose you could say you married your unrequited love, which puts you in rare country, right?"
He heard her move around, the sound of a chair scraping the concrete floor. It sounded like she lit a cigarette.
"Sweetie, I'm going to take this leg upstairs to the tub. I'll be back in a few."
She showed him his leg. Severed cleanly at the knee. A lot of blood but it was his left leg. No question. He heard a door open, shut, and her footsteps ascending a flight of stairs.
He struggled to move his head. All he could see was a very bright halogen light above him and the edges of what looked like a concrete ceiling.
She was never in love with me? What the hell is that all about? And my TONGUE? MY FUCKING LEG?! Wait. She killed all of her exes? ALL of them? Okay. Okay. Okay. I gotta calm down right now. I have to... move... my... head. Where am I? How do I get outta here? Fuck, she cut out my fucking tongue! If I escape, can they re-attach my tongue? Barrel of acid?
He managed to move his head slightly, maybe an inch. He could see the top of a metal folding chair, a metal door, and one of those metal surgical tables with a drain on one end. He heard her coming back. His brain wanted him run or hide or anything but just lay here like a hog being butchered.
The door opened with a squeal.
"Miss me, baby-boy? Did you move your head? Wow. With the amount of drugs in you, that's impressive, stud. You've always been impressive, lover. Not in the sack but I never really felt that passion anyway.
"You know, I read once that the BTK Killer in Kansas was married for twenty years and his wife never figured it out. No records for me. We only made it eight. I think I have him beat in terms of bodies, though. Gotta take the little wins, right?"
He vaguely felt her lifting his right leg.
"I'm not one for wishing but if I were, I'd wish you hadn't wised up. Remember when I read your Chinese horoscope? It said you would become suspicious of your partner and I told you that it cautioned you that those suspicions would be unfounded? Yeah, I lied about the unfounded part. The horoscope was really on the nose. It was a warning but you never actually read it yourself and, again, you just trusted my version.
"I mean, you trusted me when we first got married and I'd go out late and not text. I wondered if you'd get jealous when I told you I was out meeting new friends in bars or going out to sit in Logan Square with one of my old boyfriends reading poetry and drinking malt liquor but, no. You said that a marriage had to be based on mutual trust. You were right. You trusted that I wasn't fucking around and I trusted that you'd just accept my quirks as they came. For the record, I wasn't fucking around although I wouldn't be surprised now if you refused to believe that. Besides, having a wife who scours the world of toxic men is a lot more exciting than just the typical wife who sleeps around, doncha think?
"Hey, champ! Halfway there! You're doing great, by the way. I'll admit that talking to you without being interrupted is a little slice of heaven. I'm trying to anticipate what's going on in that big man brain of yours so I hope you'll forgive me if I leave something out.”
"I thought you had caught me a few times. That time I came home with my head shaved? What happened was that I didn't drug the guy quite enough and he fought back. Pulled a whole chunk of my hair right out of my head. I shaved it all off and remember my excuse? That I was paid to be in a fetish video where the guy shaved my head while I was naked in a shower with another naked model? And you completely bought that!
"And when you found that ratty pair of shorts covered in blood and I told you I had a really heavy period? That was a real boon because, after that, all I had to say was 'menstruation' and you never questioned any other bloodstain again.
"Hold that thought. Using the saw again."
And like that, he knew his right leg had been sawed off.
"Be right back," she said almost as if she were singing a commercial jingle.
Scouring the world of toxic men? Jesus. I'm going to die here today. Fuck me. She's just going to keep talking and cutting parts of me off until I'm dead. How did I not see this? Wait. She said hobbling. I want to fucking die. How is she going to explain THIS? My mom and sister are going to ask questions. I'm not getting out of here, am I?
"Hey, champ! Halfway there! You're doing great, by the way. I'll admit that talking to you without being interrupted is a little slice of heaven. I'm trying to anticipate what's going on in that big man brain of yours so I hope you'll forgive me if I leave something out.
"You're probably thinking that I'm crazy. It's true. As you always liked to say, I'm nuttier than a shithouse rat but you can't say that these days. Believe women, right? Even the ones who use their sexuality to lure awful dudes to their deaths. I have to say, while I have you here," and she pulled on his right arm, lifting it onto some sort of block. "that I completely respect that you never considered yourself a feminist. You were empathetic to women and were an exemplary husband but you understood that any guy who claims to be a feminist is just using the most pathetic road available to getting laid. That might be why you lasted so long with me.
"The longest relationship I'd had before you was three years and that was just out of high school before I started in on my extracurriculars. He was great but so boring. Then he broke up with me because he thought I was too sexually demanding. He said that I used sex as a weapon or a competition. What a weak ass, right? A man complaining that a woman uses sex as a weapon? The man is the one who stabs her with that D. His dick is a literal weapon.
"Remember when I snowballed you? Sucked your cock, you came in my mouth, and I spit it back in your mouth? Without, what is it, consent? I did that to you, you got pissed and complained about it. I did that to my high school boyfriend and he slapped me in the face. Maybe I deserved it, maybe not but I reminded him of that when I took a scalpel and sliced off his ears and testicles.
"The first time I did it I felt more alive, more full of feminine empowerment, I wanted to tell the world. That, of course, would've been stupid and destroyed my mom. I thought that maybe the one time was all I needed—subversive, illicit, scary but sexy, too. He's buried behind the grove on the south side of my father's land. Remember that knoll we had that picnic on when we visited? We ate sandwiches on top of my first conquest! I worried about him being discovered for a long time. Then I met Gale and knew he was next. I went to the library and read everything I could get my hands on about taxidermy, some rudimentary surgical techniques, how to break up and dispose of a body. You'd be amazed how much of that stuff can be found in a public library."
She grabbed a hacksaw and started in on his bicep.
"Jeesh, lover! All that time in the gym has made these arms a challenge! Where was I? Gale. Yeah. Gale was already kinky. He wanted to experiment in bondage but his idea of bondage was just hitting me while fucking me. So he had to go. After that, Mike had to be disposed of after he forgot my birthday and started masturbating to porn while I was right there in the room! After Mike, I expanded into finding random assholes, making them feel seduced, then drugging them and violá! Like Carey Mulligan in Promising Young Woman!"
He could feel his left hand a bit and tried to lift it.
"Oh my. Looks like you need a bit of the sleepy sauce, huh? Hold on."
He was out in seconds.
✶
WHEN HE WOKE, HE WAS UPRIGHT. He was in a black metal box.
A safe?
He looked down. His legs were stumps. His arms were stumps. He could see a tube inserted into his stomach.
"Wow! You've been out for days! I thought I'd lost you. I hope you appreciate that I left you with your genitals. I'm not a complete monster, I hope you agree. I may have lied to you about who I was but when I said 'til death do us part,' I meant every word. After all, you were a wonderful husband until you got curious.
"Now, I have some things to do that may take me out of town for a week. The I.V. will keep you fed and watered, but I'm going to have to shut and lock this so no one discovers you, Okay? Love ya! See you in a week."
She shut the safe door. He could hear the tumblers turn as she locked it.
His mind didn't break and splinter until the fourth day. He died the fifth.
