Radio Waves of the Macabre [On Hiatus]

Chapter 31 - The Razor's Edge (Part 1)

He was all alone.

David had been hiding out in the back alley for a good five minutes, and he knew that he should probably get back inside, but he also didn't think that was such a good idea (it's a splendid idea. Really. So much fun to be had.).

The voice hadn't stopped (why would I?), and every time he thought about Conrad just pressing him (fucking her), he could feel a great rage rising and knew that if he saw him, he'd have to kill him. He didn't think that he'd be able to resist (why resist? It would be so easy. Child's play, really.), and he wasn't ready to give in.

Even if he lucked out and Conrad had left, would the urge go away or would it just find a new victim (Yes, yes, let's do that.). He could hear the inner voice smiling, which made little sense, but he knew it all the same. That faceless voice was smiling as it urged him to kill.

As he had many times, David shut his eyes hoping to find that the visions had stopped. They had not.

"Oh God," she shouted, mid-ecstasy. "Oh God, Conrad." Every time he shut his eyes there they were going at it like sex-starved teenagers; and in every position possible.

"Stop!" he shouted and this time they did; only now the image of Conrad and Erika shifted, fading out as a new image faded in. Pri flung back her half-head of rainbow hair, and sipped at his tea. "You look like shit, by the way," she said, then blew gently over the steam rising from the cup.

So do you, he thought, then tipped the tea down her blouse scalding over a fairy wings tattoo that encircled the tops of her breasts. He could hear her screams even as the tea crashed to the floor, but before the cup had even bounced once off that aged wood, he had the utility blade in hand, slicing at her face - cut after cut after cut, the blade piercing her cheeks then finally lodging in her eye.

"How do I look now, Pri," he said, as he yanked the blade down, her eye liquefying as he did and running down her bloody cheek like the yolk of an egg dribbling over toast.

David opened his eyes, willing the vision away. No, he couldn't go back in yet; not while this madness gripped him.

As if on cue, an unwanted voice sounded.

"You okay?"

His heart raced even as it sank, both excited and devastated. Why couldn't he have just stayed gone?

"Hello, Conrad."

"I thought I heard you back here."

"I guess you did."

David rose, looking his friend straight in the eyes. As he did, he slipped a hand into his pocket and eased out a utility knife, which he deftly hid behind his back. The trick was in misdirection, keeping the audience looking one way - on David rising to his feet - while the magic happened where they weren't looking. Funnily enough, it had been Conrad that had taught him that.

David laughed at the recollection.

"I hope you don't mind," Conrad said, his eyes still locked squarely with David's own. "You just, you didn't sound right in there - like something was bothering you."

"No?" David could feel the cold metal of the utility blade in his hand, his thumb tracing up and down the ribbed slider (for his pleasure). He couldn't remember picking it up, but even without looking he knew that blade matched the one from his vision, his vision of slicing up Pri. He must have picked it up in storage on the way out to the alley. There were plenty of box-cutters there for opening up new shipments. Still it was odd that he couldn't remember pocketing it, wasn't it?

"No," Conrad continued. "I mean, you're not always focused in the now as is, true, but you didn't seem like you were all there, you know, back in the store."

"Huh." David shrugged. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking on you. I'm just a little worried is all. When you didn't come back I finally gave up and left, but then I could swear I heard you shouting something back here." Conrad's eyes flickered for a moment as he blinked.

Did he look down? David thought. Did he see my hand behind my back (he knows.)?

"Shouting?" David laughed, a full-throated, belly laugh that echoed and boomed, completely out of place in the darkness of the alley and within the seriousness of the conversation. As if coming to this sudden realization, David stopped short, cutting off mid-laugh.

"No," he said. "That's absurd."

Behind his back the utility knife let out a satisfying click as he pushed the slider up and the razor blade edged out from the handle.

"Look, it's okay man. I'm just worried about you."

"About me, or about Erika?"

Conrad paused. He'd caught him, hadn't he, caught him in his tracks and the twit didn't know what to say.

"About you, David."

Great cover. Smooth Conrad, but I saw you. I saw you hesitate.

"I'd never hurt her, you know. Never."

Conrad flung his hands up in a surrender gesture, but David wouldn't be taking prisoners. Not tonight. "Um... I didn't say you would, David. I know you. You couldn't hurt a fly."

David winced, trying to will the whole thing away. "Fuck me," she howled. "Oh God, yes!" The whole time Conrad obliged, thrusting as hard as he could. "Oh God, Conrad!"
Panicked, David shot his eyes open wide. Closing them wouldn't help; it would only make matters worse. He had to fight it.

"You're right," he said. "I guess there is something on my mind." With that he laughed again, this time, the whole thing tainted with a maddening nervous tremble. "But," he continued, "for now, how about we talk about something else?"

"Sure."

David seized on the first topic that came to mind. The first topic of polite discourse at least.

"You never finished your story."

"About the waitress?"

"Yeah, the one with the curls, right? That's why you stopped by tonight, isn't it?" They both knew that it wasn't.

"Yeah." Conrad swallowed. Did David detect a hint of fear there?

"Yeah," he continued. "Well it all seems kind of stupid now."

"Not at all." David stepped closer, waving with his free hand encouraging Conrad to speak. As he did, he could feel grooves of the metal handle biting into his hand as he clenched down harder onto the utility knife.