Gary’s life was extinguished as it had begun, by mistake. The rabbit, in its flowery summer dress shed tears, not for Gary but for herself. She wondered how many times he would have to die in this small dingy room but Daddy did have to die. Quietly the rabbit went back to her hutch and slept.
Three days later a body was found by a woman claiming to be a clairvoyant, who said the ‘spirit of the wronged’ called to her. The media reported that she looked a lot more like a female jogger who found the body in her morning run. All that was released was that the deceased was known as Gary Tousen, night shift worker, mid-30s, married with two children.
Channel 10 news were calling him another victim of an alleged serial killer. The Queensland Police spokeswoman advised that all leads were being pursued and that public assistance was welcome. Based on the excessive media coverage you could be forgiven for believing the war in Syria was over. This was nothing compared to mutilated men being found in the Botanical Gardens. Each had the same number carved on their forehead: seven. Thirteen victims in thirteen months.
Today was an auspicious day for Andy Walker. He finally got a job after ten months of unemployment. “At least the missus will get off my back” he thought to himself. He arrived at the work car park at 10:40 pm. Shelf stacking, glamorous work! Last year he would have lorded over those who did such a menial job. Now he was damn thankful. Pride doesn’t feed three whiny brats.
“Typical, the lights don’t work” Andy mumbled. Out of the darkness came a woman’s voice, young and scared. “Please help” she whispered. “He’s coming back!” Without a thought Andy ran into the darkness which was the last thing he saw.
It was 6 am and Andy was late getting home. Rebecca was pissed. He knew she needed help getting the girls ready for school. Bloody hell! There was a gentle rap on the front door. “Frickin’ A” she thought as she opened the door.
Recently the old neighbours had moved out, well kicked out, as they never paid the rent. Then she moved in. She was friendly girl, reliable babysitter and a fan of quiet nights. Definitely better than the last neighbours. Bloody drunks!
“Hi Debbie.” Rebecca smiled. “What brings you to my door at this ungodly hour?” Rebecca immediately felt better. Debbie must be a wonderful casualty nurse she mused. Such a relaxing presence.
Blushing a little under her blonde bangs Debbie said, “I’ve lost my kitchen scissors so now I have meat going to waste on my kitchen bench.” Looking up at Rebecca, she smiled and said “you don’t mind?”
The morning already shot to pieces, Rebecca grinned back and said “Yeah, meat is too expensive to waste. Get it on your way home from night shift?”
Nodding in agreement, Debbie shrugged her shoulders and said “well it pays the bills.”
“Come in” Rebecca beckoned as she turned around and walked back to the kitchen. “I’ve got to get the kids ready for school and Andy’s late coming home”, she said, angrily stomping around the kitchen. “If he’s wasting money on booze again…” she muttered.
Debbie quietly came around and patted Rebecca on her arm. “It’s okay. I’ll get out of your hair.” She smiled and took the scissors with her and closed the front door behind her.
Debbie’s features distorted as she walked into her kitchen. Her petite face filled with rage as she slammed the utensil down.
Her left eye twitched and her body jerked slightly. Her demeanour changed again. She started wiping the blood splatters off the kitchen counter. Some splotches remained behind on the stove top but she would get to that later.
First she had to talk to Father. At the thought of him she was filled with rage. Her eyes rolled in her head and aloud she said “we’re going to fucking roast him!” Picking up the scissors she stormed into the spare bedroom. She slammed the door shut and watched Father jump and piss himself.
“Right, we’re gonna go over it again, you bastard,” she screamed. “All you have to do is admit it!” Running her bloody hands through her tangled hair in exasperation, she whispered to him, “if you say it I’ll give you anything you want.”
She curled up next to the blindfolded and bound man as she tentatively licked his cheek. “Just like you taught me Daddy,” she whispered, as tears rolled down her face.
She couldn’t understand how his clothes changed. Why was he always in a different car? How come he was always cheating on Mummy with those whores and their bastard children? They always lied about their name. This one kept saying he was Andy, not Daddy. Why was he so cruel to lie like that? She would get the truth from him.
Swiftly she stood up and walked to the other side of the room. “We are not happy” she intoned, her hands caressing the blades of the metal scissors.
“Please miss” he begged. “Just let me go back to my family.” He breathed awkwardly, the bruises on his chest purple and raw. “I promise I won’t tell” he whispered, his head falling forward onto his chest as he lay slumped against a green dirty wall.
She shook her head as if to clear it. With her lips curling back in derision she yelled, “like I promised Daddy! I was seven! You said you would stop once Mummy came home after Rachael was born.”
There was suffocating silence in the room. Andy didn’t know if he preferred to know or not. All he knew was that it was black and getting darker.
There was a feeling of material wafting over his leg followed by a punch to the jaw. A smell of soap came near as he heard voices talking, but not to him.
“I don’t want to kill him” the little girl whimpered.
The angry woman with the gravelly voice yelled “I want to kill the bastard now!”
Finally, the calm one, who sounded so familiar, said “we have no choice. We can’t keep Father dirtying up this house much longer. My dreams have been bad.”
All Andy could hear now was faint breathing and of metallic swooshing sound. The swooshing stopped and for Andy there was no more as the scissors punctured his heart.
From across the room, safe in her hutch, rabbit watched as her protector calmly carved seven into his forehead while the Bitch hacked at his genitals. He could never hurt rabbit again.
Quietly Debbie stepped away from Andy, waltzing to her own Danse Macabre, giggling like a little girl.