The cleanup was the most tedious of the aftermath. Dragging a bucket of water about, carrying a bundle of rags he’d just washed the previous day, Wolfie dreaded cleaning the floor most of all; it was tile, and the grout was tough to clean. He had contemplated regrouting the entire floor with dark red or brown, something that matched the constant flow that spilled upon it on its trek to the drain in the middle of the room, but he had never gotten around to it. With an exasperated sigh, Wolfie stood and rubbed his aching knees. Kicking over the bucket, he allowed the dirty water to go down the drain. It easily found its way, the floor being slightly tilted in favor of the location of the drain.
He stared at the floor. “Adam.” He yelled, voice echoing slightly. “Adam! Get your ass in here!”
The wooden door across the room opened. He was much larger than Wolfie, with thicker arms and a heavier chest, a squared face and small green eyes. The dazed look that hung about him was reminiscent of one jerked from a state of sleep. “Why you yelling?” He asked after a moment’s pause, staring at the dark form on the other end of the room. “What happened?”
“I need you to mop up the water.” Wolfie said, pointing to the remaining tracks of dirty water. “The mop’s next to the door this time.”
“But I wanna sleep...” Adam’s gruff voice took on a whining tone. He huffed, sulking to the mop Wolfie promised was beside the door he had just come through. “Don’t wanna work...” With a graceless spin, Adam pushed the mop in front of him with a lackluster series of steps. Wolfie shook his head and turned, going through the door opposite the one he’d called Adam through. In this room a set of three bare light bulbs hung from the ceiling, giving light to the rectangular area. Like the previous, larger room, this one had white tile floors and cinder block walls, but its air was lighter, contrasting its neighbor’s dull grayish tone. In the middle of the room stood a steel table bolted to the floor and a claw-footed tub right next to it. Along the right wall an old shower head stood below another drain in the floor. The setup resembled a butcher shop, but there didn’t appear an animal on the table.
Wolfie stepped forward, into the room, around the table. It was a torso, resting in its own blood, free of its arms and everything below the waist. Those items were in the tub, rinsed and clean. The head of the torso on the table was that of a short-haired man, eyes once bright blue now glassy and lifeless. Wolfie turned the torso around so the head was to the right, chest to the ceiling. Taking up one of the smaller knives at the right side of the table, sliding it through the neck, then snapping the spine. It took a lot of muscle, but Wolfie’s rather spindly arms were powerful. He’d done this many times.
Wolfie took up the cleaver next. He’d set the edge of the blade on the middle of the man’s forehead and raised his other hand over the blunt edge. He was about to slam his palm down on it, which would dent and crack the skull through the skin, when Adam entered with the mop dragging behind him. It caught him off guard and when he slammed his hand down, Wolfie dug a little deeper than he intended. He heard a
crack much louder than what he had intended.
“Damn, Adam, I think I hit the brain.” Wolfie disengaged the blade and inspected his work. “I’ve told you time and again that this is the hardest to bother with! I’ll bet it’s falling apart right now...” He drew the blade the rest of the way across the forehead and scalped the rest of the man’s head.
“Eh, sorry.” Adam laughed. “Just wondering if you thought about what I asked yesterday.”
“The blog? No, I haven’t thought about it.” Wolfie put the tip of the blade into the crack he’d made and levered it around, pulling it up and away from the brain. Some of the membrane stuck to the inside of the skull. “But I don’t know about it. I’d probably make headline news.” He laughed, twisting the head so it would stand up the best he could, leaning it against the rest of the torso. Setting the blade down, he used his hands to lever the brain out of the skull and into the tub. “I also don’t trust you.”
“Me? Why not? Haven’t I been loyal up until now?”
“Until now? Does that mean you’re turning on me?” Wolfie took up the smaller blade he’d used to cut through the body’s neck. “Because I’ll hold my own.”
“No, no, of course I’m not! I mean, why don’t you trust me?”
“Just didn’t think it was possible to set up an untraceable Internet feed.” Wolfie shrugged, using the knife he’d picked up to begin a Y-incision on the length of the torso.
“People do it all the time. I mean, the ones who’re very tech-savvy.”
“Wouldn’t put it past you.” Wolfie snickered as he pulled the skin away from the hardening insides once hidden away. “You don’t... look tech-savvy, is all I’m saying.” He referred to the mussed light brown hair, the red and black plaid shirt, and blue denim jeans that matched the denim jacket.
“Well I am. Want me to tell you about---”
“No.” Wolfie shook his head hard, loosening his black hair to let it hang in his face. “I don’t care, I don’t need to care, I don’t want to know. All I wanna know is that if I say okay to this you’ll be able to connect us with an untraceable feed.”
“Absolutely.” Adam nodded. “It’ll require a... few things...”
Wolfie rolled his eyes. “Fine. Take as much as you need.”
Adam grinned, setting the mop down. “Great! I won’t have much to grab.”
“Just be sure to go to the next town over. I don’t want a damn thing relating us to a single odd or suspicious act.” Wolfie cracked the sternum and pulled each half of the rib cage up and out.
“Will do.” Adam nodded. “Mind if I go sleep now?”
“No. Help me clean the bones after you go set the oven to five-hundred.” Wolfie pointed to the open door behind Adam. The larger man rolled his eyes, turned on his heel and stepped out.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _<><><>*<><><>*<><><>_ _ _ _ _ _ _
The room was dark. As usual, the air seemed thick with a gray veil, in which everything had little to no color at all. Wolfie sat before a blue computer screen hands folded in front of him as Adam bothered with a nest of wires underneath the desk. “You’ll be able to take this laptop anywhere.” Adam said, standing. “But you’ll have to rewire it afterward.”
“So I have to figure out what goes where?” Wolfie sighed, exasperated. “I don’t want to!”
“Quit your bitching. It won’t take a long time to memorize.”
“Fine.” Wolfie glared at the camera lense built into the computer, just above the screen. “So how’s this work?” He asked at last. “I just start the recording?”
“Yep. And after it’s done, just click ‘stop’ and it’ll be finished. I’ll post it up onto your account for you, so you won’t have much else to do relating to updates and organization. I mean, you’ll be there to help, but I’ll do the grunt work.”
“Works for me.”
Adam clapped his hands together. “Well, start recording! I won’t be in the frame since you’re never out. I do the outside jobs, so I’ll be easily recognizable.”
“Sounds like you thought things through.”
“Why else am I still here?”
Wolfie rolled his eyes as Adam left the room. He normally didn’t bother with computers, but it was easy to navigate. The recording window was open, and after a moment, pressed ‘record.’
He looked at the lense for a moment, and took a deep breath. “Well... Hello there...” He felt foolish talking to no one, but kept in mind that others soon would hear his voice. “You can call me Wolfie. It’s a nickname I picked up when I was younger, because of these...” He opened his mouth to show off the oddly sharp, long teeth. “My teeth came in very sharp, like a dog or wolf. Hence the name Wolfie. This first post is to simply welcome you here, to my... blog I guess you’d call it. And to warn you: Don’t keep this blog in mind if you’re a humanitarian, or in any way against death. You’ll be seeing a lot of it. And don’t try to bother me with your crying or whining about it, I don’t doubt this’ll be found eventually by officers of the law. Not that they’ll find me, of course.”
He halted. It was certainly a blunt recording. But it was a warning. People needed to know. “Anyway... Looks like this place has a message board... Maybe your questions will be answered if you ask me what you want to know. It’s not like I’m shy... anymore.” He sighed, pausing the recording and calling Adam back. When he returned, Wolfie slammed his head down on the desk. “That was a disaster.” He muttered. “A disaster. I don’t even know what I just said.”
“It’s fine. As long as you’re picking up the interest of anyone who’ll stop by the blog.” Adam went forward, kneeling beside Wolfie to work on the computer. “I’ll put it up now, eh? Don’t worry, Wolfie; you’re not the only technologically-impaired person out there.”
“Lucky me.” He stood. “I’m going upstairs to grind the bones. Call me if you need anything.”
Adam nodded without saying anything, half-aware of Wolfie stalking off. He and Wolfie probably shared the same amount of disbelief that they had actually gone on to broadcast their killings online. But at least it wasn’t unjustified. Adam could stand behind it. He could assist it. And he did happily.
