My Son has no Mouth (Episode 3/3)
Yet he must be destroyed
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I took up hunting. I was hoping that perhaps raw fresh flesh could satiate my son's growing hunger. The small traps I started setting up around the property were simple enough, but trudging through the woods and looking for larger game is way more difficult than I could have ever imagined. I can safely say this: hunting is not my forte.
Don't worry, I brought Captain with me. I don't think I could leave him at the house with the boy. He's just a pup so it's not like I could expect him to keep up with me on his own. Instead I'd deposited him in my backpack so that he could poke his snout out and enjoy the ride as I moved through the forest. I never did shoot anything though. I had the opportunity to once, but just as I was about to fire, Captain let out a whine and scared the young buck off. It darted into the brush and vanished completely and I was left with nothing but a little puppy.
"Maybe I'll just give you to him then." I playfully said to the pooch. Of course, I wouldn't.
After giving up on that endeavor, I sat on a leafy embankment in the woods, drank from my canteen greedily and poured a bit into a plastic bowl for Captain. He's a good boy.
I knew I couldn't bring my son with me on this trip so I'd gotten him a baby sitter. Telling the young girl of his special condition was strange, I'll say that much. I didn't tell her everything. I simply told her that he had a difficult time eating so if he fussed, she shouldn't reprimand him. I also told her of his disfigurement. To this, she simply nodded and told me her price. I paid so that I could be left alone to go into the forest and hunt. But this had been a bust.
The traps too have proved to catch nothing. This is something I'd expected. We do have the occasional varmint, but given my son's previous discrepancies, I'm fairly certain that small game tries to give our home a wide berth. Maybe that's just me attempting to rationalize it though. Who knows?
I never would have guessed the babysitter would die. I'm so sorry. She was a young fit girl and I was certain that if my son had given her any problems, she could call me or she could overpower him. This was apparently not the case.
Upon returning home sometime in the afternoon, I was jamming out to some Peal Jam with Captain lazily stretching in the passenger seat. I clicked the garage door open and pulled it, sighing and preparing to relieve the young girl of her duties. I reached out for the door leading into the kitchen with Captain underfoot and as soon as I pushed the door in I was slapped in the face with the stench of something not quite right. I'd smelled it before. Metal like pennies in my nose. It was strong and permeated through the house.
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I rushed through the kitchen, grabbing the frame leading into the den to support my weight. There it was. There he was. He was crouched over the poor girl. She was possibly fifteen or sixteen. Too young for this. It took a long time for my eyes to comprehend what I was looking at. Long looping entrails torn to shreds. She looked up at the ceiling with a pale expression of fear plastered across her still face. Someone had finally died due to my incompetence. My son, upon realizing I was looking in at the mess he'd made, dropped her heart and it plopped to the floor all soft and wet. His expression was one that probably matched my own. Wiping his hands and mouth down quickly, he looked at me while placing his hands behind his back.
I was horrified. I was broken. I knew he couldn't stop.
It takes a really long time to get blood up. Especially when you're cleaning it off wood. Especially when the blood has been sitting on the wooden floor long enough to settle in and stain. I tried using a straight mixture of bleach and water, but after the initial wipe down, there was little more that I could do.
The world was a haze as I lugged the young girl's body into the bathtub and took the hacksaw to her limbs. When you attempt to cut into flesh with little experience, it sometimes pulls away in thick strings; that's something I never thought I would know. I had no idea what I was doing, but the legs and arms came off well enough after snapping the bones. The head was a different matter altogether. I couldn't look at those eyes and so I shut them as I placed the saw against her throat. I removed the teeth and ground them into a fine powder with a meat tenderizer. I still haven't figured out what I'm going to do with the body. Burn it? I'm unsure. I am now a criminal. My whole life is spiraling. Still I knew what came next. I bagged the pieces and put them in my shed. Maybe I'll just call the police on myself.
After this was done and I washed the tub down, I fetched my son and bathed him, washing the red residue from his body. We were quiet. I think he knew I was upset with him. Which, I mean, I was. This isn't a part of the road for normal parents though. This wasn't something I should have to do. This isn't the sort of situation I was supposed to be in.
"I'm sorry." He mumbled.
"It's okay, buddy." I told him. I forced a bright disposition over my whole face and body. "Wanna' watch a movie?"
He perked up. "Yeah."
I put on Finding Nemo in the living room and we watched it together, laughing at the fun antics of the animated fish onscreen. When the DVD flipped back over to the main menu, he smacked me in the head with a pillow. I lifted him up by his ankles and swirled him over the couch, swinging him and dropping him onto the cushions in a fit of giggles. He put on his little plastic Batman mask and I sneaked through the dim house, playing the part of the newest escapee from the asylum. He would catch me and we would be locked in mock mortal combat with one another. We would fall to the floor together in a barrage of laughter.
"I got you daddy!" He shrieked as I would lay on the floor with my tongue stuck out.
We played the board game Life until it was pitch black out. I'd long since turned my phone off as the phone calls from the girl's parents had made it impossible to use it anyway. I let him win and he laughed in self satisfaction.
Then it was bedtime. I read him a chapter from Harry Potter and clicked his bedside table off, planting a firm kiss on his forehead. He rolled himself into a burrito and I could tell he was tuckered out.
I passed Captain snoozing on the couch and I moved to the garage, popping the trunk of my vehicle. There it was. I took the rifle I'd specifically purchased for hunting.
Before I could think my way out of it, I marched down the hall, checking the rifle and making sure the safety was off. I pushed in his cracked door, keeping the light off.
It takes a really long time to get blood up. Especially when you're cleaning it off sheets and bedding.
I don't know if I'm an evil man. I hope not.
Please forgive me.
Read Episode 2
The first episode of The Conductor comes out 11/13/2020
Written by Lucas Whorley