Over the edge

Chapter one.

The dimly lit room smelt like rotting wood and puke. On closer inspection, one might even spot dried blood stains on the woodboard floorings and on the walls. The room looked like a low key abattoir..... For humans.

And, that it was.

A blood curdling scream pierced through the silence of the night. The source of the scream lay, spread out and naked, on the cold iron table. A girl, not less than twenty two. And, before her stood a burly man, clothed in a white singlet that now had blood splattered on it, and briefs.

A silver knife glinted in the dark, as the moon poured in through the sound proofed window, just before it cut through the girl's skin and she let out a bone rattling wail.

The young girl began crying.... Begging. She swore to do whatever he wanted. But the pleas fell on deaf ears. The man seemed to enjoy the torture.

Slowly, he dragged the blade through her lips and across her left cheek. He did the same to her right cheek. With the gore slipping through the gash on the girl's face, she might be mistaken for a female version of the Joker. She let out a throaty sob, her mouth had been rendered immobile by the incision. This outcome seemed to please the burly man, for he smiled. His smile wasn't comforting. It was chilling. predatory. And, satisfactory.

"You look beautiful. More beautiful than you can ever imagine. You're so sweet. So innocent. "He said, while running his hands through the girl's hair. He tucked a few strands of stray hair behind the her ear and stared at the girl's tear stained face.

For just a fleeting moment, the hardness that seemed to be constantly etched on his face disappeared. He looked at her in an almost loving way. Almost. And then, the softness was gone. It was replaced by something cold.

"But, you're all the same." He muttered in a voice colder than the temperature of Antarctica.

The girl saw her end in his eyes. She began twisting and writhing on the cold table. She rattled the chains that were used to constrain her wrists and ankles. Her eyes spoke the words her mouth couldn't say... "Please!!!"

Her pain drove him to ecstasy.

With a crazed look in his eyes, he brought down the blade, once, twice, thrice.... On her abdomen.

Blood squirt from the stabs and flew in diverse directions. The girl's eyes widened as saucers before she wheezed her last breath.

He brought the blade to his lips and wiped it clean using his tongue.

Heaving a sigh, he sheathed the knife with something he had placed on the cold table earlier.

Stealing one last glance as the limp body of Matty - that was the name he had always called her - he move towards the door, careful not to disturb the silence of the night. Shortly, the door opened, then shut again and the lock clicked back, in place.

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Clarissa didn't think it was necessary to have social media accounts. Yeah, she had them but, they were just to please her friends. She barely used them. Silly people posting unrealistic things or showing off what they might or might not have wasn't what she'd call a healthy way of having a good time.

Shrugging back her troublesome hair, she hurriedly tapped away on her cellphone. The girls were already bugging her on their W******p group for being late. Claire and Sydney had insisted they have a girls night at the barov's, a Russian owned bar and one of the many bars in town. Well, she hadn't objected. Work had kept her unavailable for weeks so when the opportunity to meet up with her best friends arose, she couldn't say no to it.

The bus came and she pushed up from her seat in the bus stand and rushed to join the queue that was struggling to get on the bus too. Some seconds later, she was seated beside an old lady who kept chattering about the weather to no one in particular. Winter was always so cold in south side Chicago.

At last, Clarissa snuck her phone into the pocket of her gray jacket. She let her eyes roam round the bus. From the corner of her eyes, she glimpsed the profile of a guy standing just two rows down. . The guy struck her as handsome. With his unfathomable dark eyes, built physique and the air of confidence that surrounded him, he was swoon worthy. He might have felt a pair of eyes watching him for he snapped his head towards Clarissa's direction, catching her red handed in the act. This made Clarissa blush furiously before slouching down in her seat. She made extra effort to keep her from from turning.

A few stops later and she alighted. Barov's stood just a few meters away from the stop.

The sultry night wind blew her loose hair into her face and she brushed them away just as a hand touched her shoulder. She jerked away from the hand in fear and reached for the pepper spray in her pocket. Immediately, she whirled with the force of a tornado and sprayed pepper into the face -or so she thought -of whoever it was.

"Wow! wow!! wow!!! Easy. "Said a guy in an amused voice. She recognized him. He was the guy from the bus. "I don't bite. "

Still feeling high from her impromptu adrenaline rush, she asked "who are you? And, what do you want? "

He raised one of his brows in askance.

"I just wanted to talk. Besides,i'm going to Barov's. Just saying so you don't think i'm some stalker. "

"You don't go touching people without their consent. It could've been worse than pepper spray. "Her voice still sounded a little bit high pitched from agitation.

"I'm sorry. "The tone of his voice was laced with sincerity.

She nodded because she didn't trust her voice not to sound unsteady. Replacing her pepper spray In her pocket, she gulped a mouthful of winter air and let out a shaky breath.

She smiled at him just as she regained her composure.

"I'm Flynn. "He said stretching out his hand for a handshake.

"And, i'm Clarissa. "She said, receiving his hand and broadening her smile.

Barov's was always lit like a Christmas tree. The polished woodboards gleamed in the artificial lighting. Some Russian music crooned from the speakers hung on the walls. Barov's always smelled like ginger ale and tequila and most importantly, vodka.

Clarissa spotted Sydney and Claire at the far end of the room, sitting in a hidden booth. It was their favorite spot at Barov's. Sydney waved at her while Claire wriggled her brows, questioning the presence beside her.

So typical.

She strode over to them with a knowing smile on her face. Flynn was right beside her.sliding into booth, she highfived both of them and Flynn stood, just beside the table.

Clarissa did the introductions and they all exchanged pleasantries. Claire seemed indifferent about having a stranger intrude on their girls time but Sydney looked obviously uncomfortable with it. But after a series of eye to eye communication with Clarissa, she relaxed visibly.

They fell into a comfortable rhythm. Flynn was funny, quite sarcastic and very gentlemanly. They joked and drank and snacked. The night was fun.

When the night was over, they kissed and hugged their goodbyes.

The bus ride home was still the same as the meet with her friends. Clarissa learnt that Flynn was a realtor. And, it had actually been a family business. Clarissa said she was the county's assistant coroner.. Flynn explained that he had just moved to the town newly. They talked about everything and anything. With Flynn and probably the alcohol in her system, talking seemed easy.

They alighted at their stop and Flynn offered to walk her home. Of course, she hurriedly accepted the offer.

The walk home was silent. The silence between them, comfortable.

As soon as they got to her doorstep, she debated inviting him in for coffee or tea but on a second thought, she squashed the idea.

"I'll see you some other time, huh? "He asked, rocking back and Forth on his heels with hands in his pocket.

"Probably. Thanks for walking me home. "She said, beaming. The prospect of seeing Flynn again made her heart beat erratically.

"It's alright. I got to know your house at least."

"Goodnight Flynn. "

"Goodnight Rissa. "

Clarissa pushed her door open as Flynn backed out of her yard.

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In a distance, he watched clarissa flip the lights on and tug down the curtains on the windows.

He walked down his driveway with a body bag clutched in his hands.

"Soon," he muttered, "soon."

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She didn't cry when the shads of broken glass pierced her skin. She didn't flinch when blood tickled down the tiny punctures on her face. In fact, she felt numb.

Even as she saw him brandishing the blade in the dimly lit room, her brain didn't seem to interpret the imminence of her death. Her mind roamed, focusing on everything but the present.

She remembered him walking up to her and admiring her cute chihuahua. They'd struck up a conversation and one thing led to the other and, she found herself in his bed. She unconsciously smiled at the memory but a moment later, that smile was replaced with a mask of frigidity. Her mom once told her that that her trusting nature would be the cause of her death. Who knew her mom was clairvoyant. She had woken up to being chained to a table littered with broken glass.

The white hot pain she had felt then had faded into nothingness.

She sensed him near her even before her eyes registered his presence beside the torture table.

She held his eyes.

Gone was the handsome man she had met that morning. Looking at him now, all she saw was a psychopath. The sinister look in his eyes did nothing but spice up the wave of cruelty oozing from him. His lips was turned down in a frown.

"You're not crying or screaming." He said it as though it perplexed him.

She pulled her lips into a thin line. Tears were a sign of weakness, she wouldn't give him the honor of seeing her weak.

"How many people have you killed?" She asked with the steely voice she had perfected from years of dealing with annoying siblings.

He scrunched his forehead in thought.

"I've lost count." He replied after awhile.

She shot him a look of disgust. "Don't you feel any remorse? "

"No, I don't. It's fun. " As he spoke, his eyes lit up like a diamond..

The blade slashed the skin on her abdomen and tears welled up in her eyes.

But, she made no sound. No tears, she reminded herself. But, it was impossible not to wince from the pain.

Using the blade, he traced a path from her abdomen, past her chest and to her forehead. There, he began making precise markings, a jumble of alphabets and symbols. Unable to bear the pain anymore, tears slipped down her flushed cheeks.

"Don't cry honey, you'll be out of your misery soon. Just a souvenir... "he chopped off her pinky finger and she let out a ear splitting scream ".... And, i'm done."

While she cried, he patted her hair with his large hands.

"Brenda honey, i'm sorry. "

Or not.

"Then, let me go. Let me go if you're sorry." The girl, Brenda, said in between sobs.

"I guess i'm not that sorry then." Pause. "Let's put you to sleep darling. "

With that, he plunged the blade into her chest, right through her sternum and heart.

Brenda choked on her blood just before her eyelids drooped and she fell into an eternal slumber.

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"..... News headline. Murder at Kenwood, south side Chicago. The mutilated remains of a young woman has been found, dumped in a trash site at 56th street. The young woman still remains unidentified as at now. The sherriff and mayor are yet to comment on the murder..... "

Clarissa let the voice of the newscaster trail. She sipped her coffee while meticulously trying to forget the horror that was the body of the young woman. The corpse lay a few rooms away.

She had woken up to the shrill ringing of her cell phone. Her superior was calling. He'd informed her of the corpse the trash disposal men had found at the trash site and had instructed her to get to the crime scene ASAP.

After a few minutes of frantically putting herself together, she had rushed to the scene.

One look at the body told her that her dreams were going to be haunted from that day onwards. She had quickly called the guys at the office and soon, they we're moving the corpse to the lab for proper examination.

She had done the cross examination and cataloged the result.

Name:unidentified.

Age:21 -22 years old.

Probable Cause of death - multiple stabs on abdomen(3x), internal hemorrhage.

Time of death - 12 hours ago. No sign of decay yet.

She took photos of the corpse and put them away in a folder. Hurriedly, she rushed to the coffee dispenser at the waiting room to get herself a cup before she puked. That was when she saw the news about the murder. How fast news flies, she thought.

She thought about the wide open eyes of the young woman and the perperfual grin that had been carved unto her face. She shook her head to clear her thoughts but it didn't help at all. She still saw her.

"Miss Cavendish? ” someone called, interrupting her thoughts. Disposing her coffee cup, Clarissa swerved to faced whoever it was. It was the new tech guy, Barry Nordin.

"Yes? "

"The body has been ID'ed. Matilda Sutton. She is.... was a waitress at The diner in 44th street. "He said and then, handed her a stack of clipped papers.

She went through them, flipping the pages on after the other. Matilda Sutton, no family, lived at the youth shelter,no highschool or college records, no health records, no criminal records either.

She thanked Barry and headed into her office.

Her office, a white sterile room with barely any furniture's in it. Though, two shelves stood side by side beside the only window in the room. Pulling out her chair, she slumped into it. She was clearly exhausted.

Turning on her laptop, she began to compute the record. She really hoped that the murderer would be caught soon before the FBI became involved. No one liked the Feds especially the police department. They hounded everyone and made life a living hell for them. She didn't want that, her life was enough hell already.

With a click, she saved her work and proceeded to call her brother and bestfriend,Marley.

"Hey cupcake."Marley quipped cheerily.

"They brought In a body."She said without waiting hesitation.

" Shit. I'm so sorry lary."He said, sadness permeating his voice.. "Don't stress it buttercup, huh? "

"It's just that she was so young. She was murdered. Mutilated. It was like whoever did this had a grudge against her body. She even had a grin carved onto her face. I won't be able to ever watch the Joker without being reminded of her. " Her voice was so thick and raw with emotions.

"So, there's no suspect for now, yes? "Marley asked.

"Marley, the effing body was wiped clean. No fingerprints, no foreign blood or hair or DNA. Whoever killed her is a professional. It might go unsolved, that's my fear. "

Clarissa never swore unless she was stressed out and tense.

"Don't worry Lary, please. Don't over think. You'll be fine, right? I mean, if you need to see a therapist or if you need to tell anyone anything, you know i'm here. "

"I know. Thanks alot Mar. I just needed someone to talk to. I'm glad you picked up.. "

"Don't sweat it. I'm not your big brother for nothing. We'll talk later then? ”

"Of course. Take care, Marley. "

He blew her a kiss over the phone and then, cut the call.

Exhaling deeply, she got back to work.

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He knew Clarissa would've seen and examined the body by then, she was the assistant coroner after all. He smiled at himself feeling satisfied.

Whistling under his breath, he picked the lock on Clarissa's door. He was sure to block the her little driveway with his chevy truck. He didn't want nosy neighbors making any appearance.

The lock wasn't easy to pick, His Clarissa was security conscious.

His Clarissa. That thought made his heart soar.

Another smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

With a click, the door pushed open. He walked straight up the stairs and directly into Clarissa's room. The room was just as he had imagined it would be. Very feminine and pristine. His eyes fell on what he was searching for.

The dresser.

He rummraged through the dresser looking for one specific thing. And, he found it.

Clarrisa's bra pile.

He picked one and brought it to his nose. He sniffed it like one would sniff crack. It was his drug. Clarissa was to him what Crack was to druggies.

He heard a sound, Shuffling of feet's perhaps. That reminded him that he needed to leave the apartment before someone noticed something and called the cops. Stuffing the underwear into his pocket, he left the same way he had come.

Pulling his baseball cap to hide his face and look less recognizable, he climbed into his truck.

Next time, he would bring her a gift, he thought. As he pulled away from the driveway, he placated himself, muttering "soon."underneath his breath.