I’m not a stalker I just love deeply 4

Nyameko/ December 5, 2019/ Archive, Works/ 0 comments

Raping, killing and making love to my cheating whore of a girlfriend’s corpse was not the way I had envisioned spending my mother’s day. I hadn’t even done my bi-annual pilgrimage to her grave. Too much had been happening. Looking at the corpse on the other side of the room, I wasn’t sure my mother would have wanted to even look at me if she were alive.

“How could I kill her? What kind of man would kill the woman he professes to love? Was my love dangerous? What should I do next? I should call someone. I should call 9 1 1, maybe she wasn’t dead. How would I explain this? The police wouldn’t understand. They would think I am a rapist, killer and necrophiliac and that is not the person I am. I am a good person but bad things happen to me. She was a lying, cheating whore who was a cock tease and played with my emotions. And now she was going to ruin my life.”

“No! I wouldn’t let her do that to me. She didn’t deserve me throwing my life away for her. She hadn’t even deserved my love. So no, I would not be calling the police. So what to do then? Maybe I can just say I was never here” I was putting on pants and walking out, when it hit me, there was too much tying me to what some might call a crime. I would not allow myself to be a victim of the karmic payback of a whore’s bad decisions. I had been the hammer; I wouldn’t be the nail as well. It was her fault after all. I am the victim!

As I went back to the lounge the realization of what I had to do hit. I had to examine the scene and make a list of what needed to be done. There was a notepad on the antique desk; the pretentious hag even had personalized stationery.

The list of things that needed to be done:

  1. My car sitting outside her house had to be moved.
  2. An explanation of her disappearance had to appear.
  3. The body it had to disappear somehow.
  4. The alibi had to be fabricated.

First things first: the car had to move from outside the house. Curious neighbours would be able to give testimony of when I left. This would also help the alibi. I had about 3 hours before rigor mortis set in and the body became cumbersome and difficult to move, I had to act fast. It was 8:32 now, I had until about 0:32 before things got wonky and I had to wait another 24 hours before her body was manageable again.  I took her garage remote, switched off all the lights and drove off. I drove around for about 10 minutes. I even stopped at the train station, making sure to avoid cameras. “I drove her to the train station then I went home.” Not airtight, but maybe that’s a good thing.

I drove back to her house making sure to open the garage doors and slip in without stopping and being seen. It was a simple, smooth slip into the garage. “Fits like a glove just like the first time I entered her. Images of her body lying on the ground naked and still, not resisting flashed through my mind. I was getting so hard. I had to take a moment to relieve myself. I wanted to squirt my juices over her corpse but was too afraid of spreading more DNA evidence. I exploded over my steering wheel. After cleaning myself off, I went into the house to finish my chore.

Getting onto her computer was easy. She had tried to change the password but I broke it in after 6 tries. She must have thought she was so smart making it her side man’s name and the day they were in the bathroom together. Another way she was trying to mock me. If only I could have my hands around her throat again. I went to her emails and sent quick emails to everyone who would as ask about her. Then I restricted emails coming in and added a message to explain: “I am currently on a work assignment; I will be out of range of emails.” Now she had an excuse time to take care of the next step.

She had a small travel suitcase. I packed some clothes making sure to pack underwear and chargers and even her contraceptives. Once this was in the car, it was time for the body. She was starting to get cold. Which made sense, it had been nearly an hour and a half since she died. Time was starting to be a factor. I wrapped her in the banner, I had to chuckle a little at the thought of wrapping her up in the intervention banner.

“Why does her body weigh so much? I’ve lifted her so many times, yet today I can barely lift her. Yet another situation where she makes my life difficult” I couldn’t even remember why I had loved her. “I wish Mzi was here, with his strong arms to help me carry this thing to the car. He has a great muscular body. I couldn’t admit it then but the times in the gym showers had always been a treat. It was right then that her phone started ringing. I nearly dropped the body there and then. I let it ring at least it would go to voicemail.

Getting her into the car gave me a little trouble. It made me think of carrying groceries and getting to the car and needing another hand to open the boot. I finally put the body in the boot and went back to the house. The missed call had been from Mzi. He was probably calling to see if their plan to take everything from me had worked. How could the two people I value the most work against me like that. How dare they? The backstabbing cunt and dick!

It was ok, she had gotten hers, he would get his in time too, and Karma is unforgiving bitch. The important thing was to focus on the job at hand.

“The major obstacle now is finding a way to get rid of the body. Leaving it somewhere would only get the putrefaction process to start early and that would get me caught, my semen was on and in it. Fire was good but drew too much attention. Burning her in her car would be good but her lungs have no fire damage or Carbon Monoxide that would be suspicious. Cutting her up could work but what about the pieces?  What to do with that? All the flesh needs to be unrecognizable. Chopping them up further would be a waste of time, fire would be nice. Or boil the pieces until they slipped of the bone and serve it to the neighbourhood stray dogs. I may have to season to taste. The bones can then be burnt in a small fire and crushed to dust”

I was nearly home. I would need an open space, plastic tarp, and a plastic apron. I had all those in my tool shed. I even had plastic goggles to protect my eyes from flying bone and blood, granted they were swimming goggles they would still do the job.  More importantly I had a hacksaw and a big pot. It was going to be a long night. I made a big show of getting home, even acting slightly intoxicated so my neighbours would know I was home and my alibi was stronger.

Within 30 minutes the body was naked on plastic covers, the hacksaw was lying next to it the pot had water boiling in the kitchen, and I was wearing nothing but the plastic apron and the face cover. The corpse was starting to stiffen and darken in places. Even my seed had dried up on her, now a silvery white trail as if a snail had gone skipping from between her thighs to her breasts. Looking at her laying there, she looked so ugly. She still had my hand prints around her neck. I was getting light-headed and I was not sure if I could do this. “I mean I am not a killer and what I was about to do was way more. Maybe I should have left her at her place, gone to the police station, explained and taken my punishment. I could still do that.

“Explain what? That you had hacked your girlfriend’s social media, followed and spied on her, sat outside her house for weeks, raped her and killed her at your intervention and most importantly tried to hide the body? How will that sound? Think of all the people who would be happy to see you dragged down. You know it’s not your fault but those stupid ignorant fools won’t understand what it’s like to be you and to love someone so deeply. So stop being a pussy and do what you must!!!”

“Why do these things happen to me?” There really was nothing else to do but start cutting. There sooner I got it done the faster I could go on to the things I like doing. That’s how I got through washing dishes and paying bills.

Step 1: Decide where you want to separate the body parts i.e. shoulders, neck and crotch.

Step 2: Use a knife to cut the flesh around the joints.

Step 3: Use the hacksaw to cut through the joints.

And Voila! You now have a fully separated corpse. Now dispose of the smaller pieces. Make sure to stay on the plastic cover so no blood evidence is left. “Thank you Hollywood!”

“The joints are just like the joints on a sheep. Slaughtering and skinning domestic animals: the one thing my stepfather taught me and it was coming handy. I almost hate him less. The flesh is also very much like pig flesh. Are all humans like this? Or is it just women? I wonder what it tastes…”

It was then when the phone rang. I had to pick it up for my alibi. It was Mzi telling me he was about 15 minutes from my place and wanted to talk.

“Great, I am standing in my garage, naked save for a blood covered plastic apron, swimming goggles with the snorkel still attached, not to mention my ex in six pieces on a blood covered plastic tarp in front of me and my cute best friend whose loyalty was in question is on the way. Fuck My Life!”

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About Nyameko

Nyameko Ishmael Bottoman (Nimz) is a professional paragraph wrangler. He spends his time with his head in the clouds and his boots on the neck of misbehaving metaphors. He prides himself on being a super nanny to adolescent puns.

When he is not busy being the gatekeeper to unruly onomatopoeia he keeps himself busy with writing children’s books, English education fan fiction, and noun-verb erotica.”

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