A Series of Stories

Next

I was alone again. Another one left me. No matter how hard I try, they leave. Always out the same door, at the same time, every time. The story never changed.

I went back into the basement where he used to stay. I made his bed, just like the last time. I cleaned off the blood stained table, just like the last time. I put the chopped up corpses back into the freezer, just like last time. The story never changed.

I wondered how long it would be till anyone noticed the missing were coming back with scars, stitches and no memory of anyone or anything. No one had noticed yet, that I knew of anyway.

I grabbed a couple herbs out of the cabinet and a corpse out of the fridge. I dumped the herbs into a bowl and put it on a cloth with a pentagram embroidered on it. I opened the tub and put the body parts back together on the other side of the table. I smiled this one would be different, i knew it would be.

I had set up a room upstairs for him, and the basement would stay locked this time. I would make sure of it. I went back over to the pentagram and picked up my knife. I looked at my hand. A gut wrenching scar went right across it from where I preformed this spell so many times. I sliced open my hand and let the blood drip into the bowl. I muttered the Latin incantation and watched the corpse as it was pieced back together and color was restored to his face. It would be a few hours until he would wake up and I would use it to my advantage.

I slipped some clothes on him and carried him upstairs and set him on his bed. I locked the basement door. This one would be different.

She was coming back. And if this one didn't stay, I would be the next one on that table.