The Writers' Circle

Agony of Flesh

                                              Chapter 1


                                         The Fall Tells All



                "Stop! This is your last warning!" the voice carried over the pipes and
valves, hissing and spewing. "I'm warning you, Parker! I will shoot you!" The officer
stopped, planting his feet firmly, and squaring his shoulders. He raised his snub-nose .38 to eye level, and drew a bead on the retreating suspects back. Crack! the pistol echoed madly. Crack! Crack! Again and again the officer's pistol echoed. Narrowly missing the suspect. "Shit!" And he took off after the murderer one more time.

                   "Haha! Jonesy, you won't catch me. Why don't you go eat a few donuts and let me get back to work?" The criminals voice was harsh. Like sandpaper on a sidewalk. Coarse, irritating, and it made the officer's teeth grit involuntarily. The cop's second shot wasn't a complete miss. The bullet penetrated the flesh of Parker's upper arm, ripping it's way out through the front of his shoulder. Picking up a pipe lying on the ground, Parker ducked behind a bin labeled "Recycle" and waited...

                   He didn't have long to wait, however. Hearing the cop running up the
corridor, his feet pounding the catwalk. It reminded Parker of a herd of elephants
stampeding in the forest. Reaffirming his grip on the pipe, Parker stood, and peeked around the corner. Drawing back the pipe as the cop drew closer to his location, Parker took a deep breathe, held it in, and swung with all his might. The pipe connected with the cops gut knocking the wind out of him, and also causing him to drop the revolver.
        "Ummmph" as the cop doubled over grabbing his gut. Just as Parker brought the pipe up to knock the cop unconscious with a well placed blow to the back of his head.

                   Lunging sideways to avoid the blow, Jonesy lost his balance, and careened over the railing. Grabbing the chain rail at the last minute he narrowly escaped falling fifty feet into a vast pit of green slimy liquid. "Parker! Help me, Parker!" The cop pleaded with the fugitive. "Please. I have a kid." The sweat that had built up on his forehead and arms glowed eerily beneath the light of the green slime. "Parker, please, I'm slipping." the cop was almost sobbing. Apparently losing his grip. Parker dropped the pipe, and walked
cautiously to the rail. Looking down at the helpless officer, he smiled.

                   "Well, well." Parker barked a laugh. "Looks like the mighty hunter has
fallen on his fat ass." Reaching down, he grabbed the cop just below the elbow. " Before I pull you up, let's make a deal." Parker was close enough to the cops face for him to smell his breathe. Stale beer, and decomposition. A cannibal. As if murder wasn't bad enough, Parker ate them too? That explains why no complete bodies had been found. Only parts. Originally thought to be dismembered.

                   "Anything," Jonesy cried. "Just pull me up!" Fear was visible on his face now. his sweat covered arm sliding out of Parkers grip just a little bit. "Now, now, Jonesy. Let's not jump the gun," Parker laughed at his own joke. "First, let's talk shop," He laughed again. Jonesy slipped a little further down Parkers arm. "Please, Parker. Whatever you want. Just pull me up." Tears streamed down his face, and caught in the stubble of his beard, which he hadn't shaved in three days. Parker smiled, "now there's something you don't see everyday. A hard ass, take-no-shit, seasoned detective crying. Oh, this is beautiful. too bad I don't have a camera. I'd send your buddies this fantastic moment." The smirk that replaced the smile was enough to stem the tears on Jonesy's face immediately. "You son of a bitch!" He screamed. "Let me go, because if I get back up there, I'll kill you myself. fuck taking you in. You're a dead man."

                   Parkers eyes darkened, the madness reflected within, and he released the cops arm slightly. Barely grabbing onto his wrist in time. "Now then, detective," He spat the word at him. "Shut the fuck up and listen, or I will kill you." His eyebrows furled, his jaw set, his teeth clenching beneath pursed lips, "You will stop following me. Forget I ever existed, and in return, I'll leave your city in peace. I'll move on to the next big thing, so to speak." His anger rising, Jonesy spat up into Parkers face, "Fuck you, scum-bag!" Using all the strength he could muster, using his left hand, since his right was held so tightly by Parker, Jonesy pulled himself up.

        Jonesy muttered four words into the murderers ear, "This is your fault." Pulling the knife rom Parkers waistband, he struck at the fugitive, slashing his side deeply.
 
        Blinded by pain, Parker released Jonesy's wrist,and watched the cop fall over fiftyfeet and land with an agonizing squelch in the green slimy liquid, which consumed him immediately. The Cop never uttering a sound throughout the entire descent. "Stupid fool," Parker muttered to himself, seizing at his side to stem the blood flow. Ripping his shirt into strips, he bandaged the gash haphazardly, and stumbled from the factory. Flashes filled his mind.

                   His first encounter with the rookie cop. He had pulled Parker over for a broken tail light. Stupid fool. If he had looked harder, he would have seen that
Parker's passenger was not sleeping as Parker had  told him, but rather, she was dead. Parker smiled at the memory. Later that night he had feasted on her legs. the muscles, after being boiled, were as tender as a steak. Delicious! Flashes next to a few years later, the same cop, now worn from years of traffic beat. Pulling him over for speeding.

              Parker wasn't as stupid this time. he had hid the body in the trunk to avoid prying eyes. This victims intestines were rather tasty. Five years later, the cop had become a detective. How wonderful. this mammas boy would now be heading up the case to find the serial killer who was 'dismembering' his victims.

                   Two weeks ago, Jonesy had almost got him. that was a close call. Parker hadn't been expecting the idiot cop to get through his little 'maze.' Let alone that fast. Maybe he didn't give the pig enough credit. Today. One hell of a day it's been. Jonesy breaking down the door to his safe house. the sprint through the field. The woods. The cat and mouse game on the docks. Finally, Jonesy catching up to him in the Factory District.

            Bastard was good. That's when the chase ensued. Through the carpet factory into the table factory, busting out the glass as he jumped from the second story window landing on the hood of the pursuing patrol cars. Jonesy right on his ass the entire way. He knew Jonesy would never shoot at him. He was too noble to shoot a man in the back. Even an accomplished serial killer.

                   Guess a lot of things changed today. Parker unconsciously reached for his arm and winched at the pain. The bullet had torn clean through his shoulder, but that didn't ease the pain any. His side, where the serrated blade had tore the muscle in a jagged line. His bandages soaked with his blood. It didn't hurt much, but it frightened him to see all the blood. He had to get it sewn up, and fast. That's when he heard it.


                             ******************************************

                   The ear-splitting screech that reached him was not human. It couldn't be. No way a human could make that sound. It was unlike anything he had heard before. A cross between a hungry lion, and a wounded jaguar. High-pitched, and deafening. Parker stopped in his tracks, completely forgetting his arm and side. his face drained of color, he turned back towards the factory he had just exited.

                   He had to go investigate. He began the short walk back to the door that still stood ajar.  Weary from his injuries, and cautious about the sound he heard, Parker stepped over the threshold as silently as he could. Walking through the factory, he came across Jonesy's dropped revolver. Picking it up, he opened the chamber. "Three bullets. Fuck, that's not good." He said to no one.

                   Tucking the revolver into his waistband, Parker headed towards the noise. Growls were all he was hearing now. coming from where he and Jonesy had been. Could it be possible that what he was hearing was....
                   
                   "Jonesy! Is that you?" Parker whispered at the thing standing there. It
couldn't be Jonesy. That thing couldn't possibly be Jonesy. It was a monster. Hideous. Grotesque. Hunch-backed, glowing toxic green, what looked like flesh hanging down loosely all over it's body. It stood nearly eight feet tall. It's arms were the size of tree trunks. It's legs, even bigger. It's face, what of it Parker could see, was elongated, chin protruding outward and down towards the chest. It's right eye was wide and searching.

           Looking for something, or the dreaded thought crossed Parkers mind, someone. the chest itself was wide. at least three and a half feet wide, and caused it to sway from side to side.

                    Looking closer, Parker knew it was Jones. The clothing that hung in
shreds across the creatures back and legs were the same that Jones had on when he fell into that vat. The blue jeans and ugly ass orange t-shirt were the same. It was Jonesy.

                   Turning around, Parker sprinted as fast as his cut up side would allow
towards the exit once again. He had to get away from that thing. whatever, whoever it was. Luck was not on his side today.  Just as he reached the exit door, a massive hand clamped down on his shoulder, buckling his knees, and causing him to fall on his face, breaking his nose.
                   
              "Ahh! Please don't hurt me!" Parker whimpered,  rolling onto his back,
holding his bleeding nose,  to stare up into the face of his assailant.  The thing towered over him. It's eyes centered on Parker. Bending down the thing grabbed him by the throat and hoisted him up to his feet. Trying to fight the thing off, Parker, side bleeding, nose bleeding, and arm limp didn't succeed much.

                   "Your.... Fault....Parker..." The thing roared at him. Parker winced, both
from pain and the things voice. If a voice is what you could call it. Parker was launched across the room, in the opposite direction from where he was going.

                   Landing with a thud, Parker slid several feet before coming to rest. His side split wide again, and blood gushing. The pain was unbearable.  He tried to stand, but the slightest movement sent knives of pain shooting through his body.  He tried again, and again to no avail. The last thing Parker saw was that thing hulking towards him slowly. It's eyes never leaving Parker's face. Everything went black as he passed out from the pain.





                                                Chapter 2



                                              The Beginning



         Nine years ago next month. That's when it happened.  Spence Parker was
younger then, and more stupid. Your average, run-of-the-mill, nobody.  Working a dead end job at a factory making table tops. Average build, he stood nearly six foot five inches, and his muscles were lean from lifting the tables. His face was square, jaw set. He had narrow green eyes, and his nose was crooked from the multiple breaks during bar fights.

                   It was a hot night in August when he first saw her. Tall, blonde, and
perfect. Shannon Daniels. A perfect name. He had to have her. No matter what. She was his. He followed her around for a few days, then decided. The time was now. He was going to make his move. There was no way she could refuse him.

         But refuse him she did. And it was the last thing she ever did. Upon hearing her rejection, he lost control. Grabbing the nearest thing to him, which happened
to be an old saw horse leg, he swung violent toward her head. The wood made an odd cracking sound as it connected with the base of her skull. THWUNK! CRAAAACK! And she lay there motionless. Blood pooling around her head and shoulders as Parker stood there marveling at what he had done. He hadn't intended on hitting her so hard, he just didn't like being rejected.

                   After pulling his car up beside the building, and loading her into the front seat, he backed out. Not noticing that he had backed into a post sticking out of the ground about two feet, busting his taillight. Pulling out rather faster than he intended, Shannon fell over onto his shoulder. Her long blonde hair obscuring his vision, causing him to swerve and broadside  a mailbox.

                   After driving for about fifteen minutes, Parker saw the lights. "Fucking
hell, this is just what I need right now," he said aloud. Pushing the dead girls hair out of his face, and shoving her head against the door jam on the passenger side, Parker slowed, and pulled into an empty lot alongside the road. Careful to make the corpse appear sleeping rather than what she really was, Parker hastily smoothed her hair down, and made sure her eyes were shut.

                   A tap on the glass. A young man, maybe twenty-five years old at best,
stood there. His uniform looked freshly starched. Parker could still see the creases in the seams. His badge glistened under the glare of the street lamp blaring down on them. His face was clean shaven, his hair neatly cropped, and parted to the left side.  Blue eyes blazed at Parker through the closed window. High cheek bones, lips taut as if frustrated, the officer tapped on the window again.

         "Sir. Could you please roll down the window," The cop asked politely.
Slowly inching the window down, Parker asked, "What seems to be the problem officer?"

         "Do you know why I pulled you over, sir?"

         "Can't says I do," Parker answered.

         "You have a busted tail light, sir. Now, normally I wouldn't have pulled you over, but it could be dangerous if you don't get that thing fixed soon."

         "I didn't realize. I'll get it fixed as soon as possible. Thank you, officer." Parker smiled.

         "Sir, I'm gonna have to ask for your license and registration, please."
Parker's face darkened a little. "OF... Of course, sir. Just a moment."

         Digging through his wallet, Parker pulled his driver's license out smoothly.

         "Here you go, sir. I'm not quiet sure where my registration is, though.
Let me check the glove compartment."

         Reaching over Shannon's lifeless body, Parker smiled. Stupid cop. Parker thought and smiled again as he opened the glove compartment. It took only a minute for him to find the correct papers. Placing the registration on his lap, Parker slammed the compartment shut, wincing.

         "Here you go. Registration. Everything is up to date. Insurance
paper's are tucked behind the registration." He added, pointing at the envelope.  the cop nodded.

         "I'll be right back. Just sit tight for a minute." He turned and walked back towards his patrol car.

                   Parker let out a deep sigh of relief. He really needed to get out of there. A couple of minutes later, the cop returned.

         "Here you are, Mr. Parker. Have a good night."

        The cop handed back his license and registration papers. "Oh, one other thing. Your passenger..."

        Oh shit, thought Parker. What do I say. He had to think fast. "She's asleep,
officer. It's been a long day. Picnic, swimming, she's just worn out, is all." And he smiled.

         "Fair enough." The cop replied, and tipped his head. "Have a safe trip home sir." And he walked back to his patrol car, and drove away.

                   Slapping the corpse on the thigh, Parker laughed out loud. "What a
fucking moron. What was his name? Jones. I'll have to remember him." Starting his car, Parker looked out his window to make sure no traffic was coming, and slowly pulled out. 

                   Another ten minutes, and Parker pulled into his garage, and pulled the door closed.  Carefully opening the car door, and sliding Shannon's corpse out, Parker heaved a deep sigh. A dead body was heavier than he thought. He could carry her, but it would be tiresome at best.  So, he decided to drag her. It was hard getting her body up the steps, but he managed. after laying her out on the table, Parker went back out to the garage where he found the hatchet hidden behind the old paint cans.

         "This will work perfectly."

         After, driving the dull hatchet into her ankle bones, and wincing with each
strike of the blade against bone, her feet were dislodged, and he dropped them into the trash bag sitting beside the chair. Not enough meat on them to eat, he thought. Using a razor sharp kitchen knife to cut the skin away from her knee caps, he again took the hatchet to her legs. Hacking and slashing at the bones until her calves were separated from her thighs. Skin and cartilage hung loosely from the severed stubs. Parker set the limbs down on the table next to the body.

                   Then Parker started working on the thighs, trying to separate them from the hips. This proved most problematic. He couldn't get a good enough swing with the hatchet. So he gave it up as a bad attempt. Instead hacking just below the hip. Where the leg meet the genitals. Although difficult, Parker had an easier time with it than trying to separate at the hip.
                   
                   After he finished hacking off Shannon's legs, Parker chopped off the arms and head, throwing them into the bag with the feet. He wouldn't bother with these items. Nor would he store any of the torso. Pulling another trash bag from under his sink, he stuffed the remains into it the best he could. The torso was odd-shaped and didn't fit in the bag very well. Parker forced it anyway.

                   Sticking the bags in the trunk of his car to avoid getting blood everywhere, Parker pulled out of his garage nonchalantly. He drove around town for several hours debating on where to deposit the remains. Finally, when his stomach started talking to him, he decided that he would take them to the lake, and weigh them down with rocks. Returning home, his mouth began watering thinking about what he had waiting for him  there.
                   
                   Parking his car, shutting the garage door, running up the three steps into his kitchen, Parker was ecstatic with anticipation of his meal to come.  Taking a pot from the cabinet, he filled it three quarters of the way full of water. Setting it on the stove, and turning it on to boil, Parker took out a knife and some vegetables. Carrots, celery, peppers, the works, and began chopping them into small bits. Human stew. He took on the look of a ravenous lion moving in for the kill. Although he had already bagged his game.

                   An hour and a half later, Parker, sitting at his table, bowl and spoon in hand, began his meal. Shannon's calf muscles were tender and juicy. The thigh muscles were tough and dry. Perfect combination, he thought, and the vegetables give it a nice balance. He laughed at himself.

                   After his meal was complete, he began the arduous task of cleaning up his mess. He didn't realize a human body could contain that much blood. It was shocking. Bleaches and rags littered his trash can and tabletop. His hands were stained red. It would take awhile for him to get the bloody color out of them.

                   When the job was finished, Parker laid down on his couch, and flipped through the channels of his television, marveling at what he had done today.  Smiling to himself, he drifted off to sleep, his kill fresh in his mind. The exhilaration apparent.