WARNING:
GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS AND CASES OF S.A. ARE MENTIONED. PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION
Another interesting sculpture, I thought with indifference, anger seeping deep in my muscles as my covered in gloves hands touched softly the ashen colored clay in the bowl in front of me.
I was sitting on my stool in front of my medium sized sculpting table, placed in my workshop in my two room apartment. I do two jobs to survive in this dark, unforgiving city in Nevada. My first job is my online psychologist career during the day with very few clients. And, since bills can’t be paid with the little money I make from my clients and while I like working out, I am not fond of too much physical labor, I utilize my childhood hobby; clay sculpturing. I sometimes create handmade cups too from white or brown clay and sell them at a low price to families that need them.
My art, although it started as rather good for the eyes but with no buyers, got me over 5000 dollars for a impressionistic sculpture of two cats playing. An unknown buyer from Amazon. It has been 3 years since then and my sculpturing business goes very decently. I make around 50 thousand dollars a year.
My most popular creations are my grey abstract sculptures. They started as brown or white clay sculptures, an amalgam of different animal species. Soon, I found an interesting market in local galleries and online buyers who were interested in art which is creepy and dark. So soon, I incorporated shapes of human parts in my sculptures. Creepy, I know. But art, as long as it leaves an impression on its witness, it is art worthwhile.
It has been two years since my creepy sculpturing work bloomed and during the last year I added one more shade of clay; grey.
I use natural colorants for my creations, such as dried berries of dark blue and red or white sea shells, finely crushed to dust. Combined with the already natural colors of the different clays I use.
But grey is such a peculiar color. Boring and often ignored, its different shapes provided so much luminescent playfulness on my sculptures’ surfaces, even I was impressed with the results. Shades of gray and black and dark brown on sculptures forming intertwined hands of six fingers each, with long black nails; a dark heard with rivers of grey blood gushing through its crevices; the terrifying wide eye with the two pupils, lidless, hopeless, dying yet not dead yet. These sculptures, horrific as they are, gave me more than half my revenue in the past six months.
Tonight I noticed however, that my grey colorant was almost all used. It had been a month since I bought some of it. I sighed. I looked at the old wooden clock on the wall across me; 2 PM. I smiled thankfully. I could still hit up my next supplier.
I sent him a message. His name is Jack, he is 27 and he was an acquaintance of mine from the gym in my neighborhood. He was a decent gym buddy. I had been noticing him staring a few almost hungrily at the hot, twenty something year old yoga instructor, Lina and also many of her students in the duration of the last few months. His almost hungry expression was so evident to me yet no one seemed to notice. So I feigned also indifference, but I made sure to check his name on various criminal databases, to make sure if he was safe or not.
Two months ago I saw him taking a sauna session at the gym’s locker room. I entered too and took the opportunity to introduce myself and we hit it off easily from then. He seemed like a friendly guy and God, I desperately needed friends.
He was a well known womanizer; dark blonde hair, light blue eyes, a face and a body that you could easily imagine in a fitness magazine. He was a mechanic.
He got me soon to meet some of his mates; Luke, the dorky but good natured teacher, Lance, his gym buddy from when they were young who was also a mechanic in the same firm as Jack was; Bill, his sister’s husband, a tall and brooding man who was too serious for his own good. And some others I don’t remember their names of, but I remember their faces. Their hands, their arms.
You see, as an impressionistic sculpturer like myself, I needed to take references for my art in an impressionistic way. Jack knew that and he was happy to send me pictures of himself for reference, especially of his arms and hands. He had visited my house and was impressed by my work. He told me he wished his parents were still alive so that he would buy a sculpture from me and gift it to them. Although I told him, my creepy art is not for everyone.
Anyway, I sent him a message and he video called me right away. He told me that we could meet up on Friday at around 11 at night right after a date he would have with Lina. I smiled at that.
- So, she will finally let me hit it on Friday, he said with his deep voice laced with mischievous laughter.
I smirked at him, amused.
- To the known spot you hook up? I have never been there.
- Yeah yeah, you know the bar. right? That’s where I do the deed. They can’t resist my charms there dude. She is also bringing a friend, so you are more than welcome to join us. I was actually about to ask you that, her friend is also an art nerd. And she also likes dudes that are focused at the gym as you are, serious and all, he said with a smirk.
I nodded and smirked back. It’s on, I told him.
He smiled and flexed his left arm, the one he lifted the most weight with.
- She will enjoy first this, pointing at his left hand, and then this, he said then pointing at his nether areas.
I laughed at that amused.
That night I dressed in comfortable clothes and took my small handbag with me. My car was an old Toyota Kluger, spacious and clean. I parked it on the dark alleyway behind the bar. I could hear the obnoxious giggles and yells from the drunks that went in and out of the bar. Friday nights were full of them.
I entered and gave the barman, Joe, my usual order.
- Another art study, Matt? He asked friendly as he made me my mojito mocktail.
- You could say that, I nodded smiling. I am meeting with a gym buddy and his two female friends.
- Who, Jack? That man must have contacted half the STDS in the globe.
I giggled at that.
He gave me my drink and soon I ordered a second one. In a few minutes, Jack entered with Lina and her beautiful friend, who introduced herself as Nancy, came in.
Lina was a beautiful woman. Strongly built and flexible, with doe brown eyes and honey colored hair. Nancy was probably the most beautiful woman I saw in that bar in all my visits. Half Argentinian, sun-kissed skin, light brown hair and dark brown eyes, she was gorgeous, friendly and an art enthusiast.
The conversations came and went, and Jack kept bringing us drinks, with Jack mocking me that the barman had a thing for me because he was always putting an umbrella for my drink. Me and Nancy talked about her job as a designer and a new project she took.
Jack was lightly and soon not so lightly fondling Lina. Lina was looking rather spaced out and a bit irritated but as the conversations kept going, she soon was very tired. When she stood, she almost collapsed. Jack helped her up and assisted her to go to the bathroom. Nancy also was looking the same. In my case, I was completely fine and aware. Very aware.
I soon stood and gave Joe the keys to my car. I asked him if he could please keep an eye on Nancy while I would check on Jack and Lina.
I went in the bathroom, where of course, I heard some muffled sounds. I opened the door to the women’s’ bathroom and no one was there. Then I heard the sounds closely coming from the non-binary bathroom. I rolled my eyes and yanked the door open.
Jack was fondling Lina. Quite harshly, and quite drunkenly.
- Dude, he said surprised and then his drunk eyes grew deviant, she just told me she wouldn’t mind a three some with you. Or a foursome with you and Nancy. His voice was showing his exhilaration.
I nodded.
- Your place? I asked seriously. He didn’t expect me to accept the offer.
- Hell yeah dude, he said with a wide grin. Lina was holding onto his shirt tightly to stand. She tried to say something but she seemed so disheveled. She managed to look me in the eyes. I saw in them… fear. She soon lost consciousness completely.
I helped Jack to carry her outside. Soon Joe came to me and told me Nancy was also out, practically fainting while drinking water.
-Take good care of them dudes, he told us with a friendly smile. He soon got stern. This is especially addressed to you Jack.
- You bet we will, Jack said mockingly, mimicking thrusting movements and laughing.
We both waved at him and we carried the two women in my car.
- So, you woke up.
Jack’s eyes soon opened. I was with him in his house, in his bedroom. His drunken state was too much to realize where he was.
- Wher-
-In your house, I told him, sitting on the chair across him. He let his head hang backwards on the pillow of his bedroom’s armchair. The room was dimly lit, quiet and clean. Quite tidy, almost too tidy.
- What happened, he said trying to get up from the armchair but failing miserably.
- You got knocked out soon after Nancy and Lina.
His eyes soon went wide.
- Right, the foursome! Dude where are they? Huh?!
I chuckled.
- Oh, you noticed?
Jack was tied down on his armchair, dressed down to his briefs.
- Dude, what is this, he asked now becoming anxious. Is this some kind of foreplay? First, I am not into dudes, but if the girls are up to it, I might make an exception for you. He said and his voice soon grew husky, his eyes hungry looking at my body.
I shook my head negatively, thoroughly disappointed. I opened my handbag and took out my file. I opened it and shuffled through the two dozen profiles I had there. I closed the file while bringing out a piece of paper out of it and holding it tightly.
- 27 of April, 2018. A woman named Samantha, aged 23, reported a sexual assault case to the local police department. Jack’s face soon drained of color at the sound of her name. After the police investigation, no evidence was available. The woman is currently seeking treatment psychological and psychiatric treatment online. Her body damaged, her mind ruined. Her soul never the same again. All because of a few drinks with some unknown dude in Vegas.
- July 30th, 2019. A woman and her sister, aged 22 and 23 respectively, reported two sexual assault cases at the city of Reno. With not enough evidence, their case was concluded.
Jack now was trying to untangle himself from the ropes I tied him with but with no result. I looked at him bored, his panic evident on his pale face.
- January 22nd, 2020. Ann, a 19 year old college student from Henderson, reported a sexual assault case.
- Do you know what connected all these cases, my friend?
His eyes grew wide in fear as my voice no longer masked the complete disgust I felt towards him.
- Your name. A year ago, they managed to discover significant evidence, especially after checking some camera footage from different places across Rimo and Henderson. The suspect would take his victims for dinner or a snack, then to a specific bar in Henderson and then, they would all lose mysteriously their consciousness. They would wake up, in their own beds, in their houses, naked and defiled.
Plus, I pointed at his open laptop. His laptop was open on his bed, with his video files and hidden camera footage of his deeds open for him to see. He looked at them and then me horrified.
- It wasn’t difficult to find your password, I told him calmly. Nice mentioning that the most important date was your mom’s year of birth; 1965.
Jack was trembling now and I smiled to him in glee.
- You are a registered sex offender my friend. You are supposed to wait for a trial but your dear uncle, who had certain connections, keeps postponing the arrest and trials, correct? So what have you been doing in the past 12 months you were signed as a sex offender? You were looking up for your next victim. The next steak you would ravage like the rabid dog you are.
His fear turned to anger and he shouted, trying to free himself.
- Did it ever occur to you, why the barman was always bringing me a drink with an umbrella tonight? If I have never been at the bar, how did he know my name?’
His anger soon dissipated and he looked at me unnerved.
- You have been there before. He said with utter shock.
- But yes, my dear friend. Ever since I saw you how you looked at Lina, I knew you had something animalistic. No, calling you animalistic is insulting towards animals. You had something dark, something horrid. Something that is compatible with my art. And with just a few sleeping pills, which I put in your last drink without you noticing, now you will become part of it.
I opened the second pocket of my handbag and he started shouting and trying to frantically free himself but to no avail. A small saw, a few knives, some nice sleeping drugs and other instruments.
- I have already administered you twice the dose of the prescribed maximum. Soon you will be falling asleep forever, Jack. The more you move, the faster the second dose will act.
- Please, he pleaded, I am sorry, I am a sick man-
- You were a man. Now you are a sick monster. And I am your… vet. Don’t worry, Jack, you will forever live in my art. You see, I told him and his eyes went wide with absolute horror as I opened my file again and started showing him the profiles of my previous material providers. I have a particular shade of gray I use for my art. Horrific, monstrous art, from matching horrific monsters. Nevada has quite a few of you. And you all provide such beautiful, grey ash. The perfect colorant for my art. And with you out. so is Nevada out of one more monster.
He was slurring now, he was trying to move, to speak. But I didn’t want it to end just yet. I poked one of my knives deep in his prized left arm. He screamed in agony and I smiled at the drippling blood gushing out from his skin and muscle tissue.
- My uncle will find you, he screamed as the pain woke him up quite a bit and he screamed again as I poked another hole on his other arm.
- No he won’t. The security cameras are now deactivated and the footage lost. You have such defined arms and veins, so easy to poke and flay. Oh and, the dosage of the pills is strong, but not enough to make you sleep again soon. So, how many more women and men did you assault? Was it also Stacy from the 15th of December of 2017? Mary from the 20th of February 2021? Johan from last summer’s June 28? Joseph from three months ago? In that alley behind your house?! I asked as I poked hole after hole after another hole. Was it? I demanded as I raised my knife.
- Yes. YES! ALL OF THEM. He screamed and cried. I am sorry, I am sorry, please Matt, I am sorry, Ple-
I slashed his throat open. The gushing sounds of his blood and air coming our of his body made me feel a different kind of glee. His eyes soon, lost all life and his limbs were left there, lifeless and unmoving. I took my trusty saw and slowly cut off his arms slowly, then took them in the huge electric barbecue he had and bragged about. I baked him, part by part, for the next few hours until the sun came out.
- So, you are awake.
Nancy and Lina were waking up, laying on the backseat of my car. We were in Limo now, far from Henderson, far from that monster’s lair.
They drowsily looked at me. I could see they were confused and soon Lina jumped up.
- Where is he?! That man! He tried to-
- I know, I took care of him. I said apathetically. They looked at me, still weakened from the drugs he gave them without a doubt.
- He took us out for dinner but that chicken was tasting funny, He said his sister’s husband had that store.
Of course, I sighed in my thoughts. Always the least expected accomplices.
- What.. what do you mean you took care of him?
I looked in Lina’s eyes and she understood, shivering. Nancy was shaking in fear and Lina was looking at me wearily.
- I know you have a gun in your purse next to you, Lina. He took it , you see. Here, I told her as I gave her back her hand gun. She looked at me surprised. I made sure that they will be looking for him for a long time. In the meantime, I owe you an apology. I wish I could also come to that dinner you had with him and save you from the trouble then and there.
- Who are you? Nancy’s voice was both curious and afraid. Lina was looking at my movements and her gun now.
- I am an artist and a psychologist. And the psychology in the art of terror, to me, should be derived from terror. And who better for material, than the very monsters that create such terror to others?
They both nodded.
- You saved me, Lina said remembering, in the bathroom.
- Me too, Nancy said surprised, you told the barman to take care of me. And when you were carrying us out, you put us in the car and you didn’t return until now.
I nodded affirmatively.
- Thank you, Lina said. putting her gun in her purse. I smiled at them both. We won’t say anything to anyone, she added and Nancy nodded.
- Go to the hospital, ask for footage, get tested for what drug he used. Make this a legal case against him and his brother in law. And let me know how it goes. You can of course report me too but, well, I made sure to leave no evidence. For all who may care, he failed to bang the hot yoga instructor and he decided to hide in shame.
They both nodded in silence.
I understood their fear. Their terror. I knew as I was one of them too. A long time ago. But no one saved me back then, unfortunately.
I dropped them off to their houses. They both were kind enough to assure me their silence and to offer me sweets and juice.
When I arrived to my small apartment, I took a long shower. I cleansed all the filth of my manufacturing work from my body. As soon as I dried out, I went to my car and brought in a small bag that I had with me.
I opened it and soon I was greeted with the beautiful grey ashes of Jack. I made sure to dispose his bones elsewhere, in multiple different locations. No peace is deserved for monsters like him.
I went to my now brightly lit from the sun workshop, which was supposed to be my guest room. The wooden table was now inviting me, inspiration slowly lighting up my mind. He really had such beautifully defined arms.
I took a seat on my stool. I wore my gloves and mixed some of his ashes with the clay in my bowl. I added some water and opened the cupboard under my desk.
In it, I had 27 other bags. All named and dated. I smiled at them. I always left a bit for remembrance. I took some new clay and mixed it with the old one, water and Jack.
The color produced was a beautiful onyx grey. I smiled at it. I smiled at the half completed sculpture in front of me. I was filled with blind rage to my powerlessness in my past encounter with my first colorant material provider. But also joy for the results. As I was immersed in my work, creating muscular arms with no hands in the stance of pleading, I remembered.
- Hey, I said to my phone. Find me in the criminal registry, any restaurant owners named Bill in Henderson.
Soon the results came up. I sighed, looking at the face of Jack’s brother in law, Bill, showing in an article about a sexual assault case twenty years ago.
I continued my work. I finished it soon. I named my sculpture, Begging for Life. Handless, yet the arms conveyed deep pleading. Skin stabbed all over, dark grey blood coming out of the wounds. I smiled at my work as I took a picture and put in on an online auction. Then I destroyed my phone and took out of my cupboard a new burner phone.
I went to my bathroom and washed my self up again. I saw some ash near my face. I brushed it off.
I am a monster too, dear Jack. Just a different kind, I thought and smiled at my reflection. A normal looking 30 year old man with soft features and a kind smile. In my own eyes, I could see the monster that was lurking behind my facade of kindness and normality.
But I smiled wider as a thought popped up.
I truly wonder, will Bill or his uncle, if he is also involved, produce as much grey as Jack did?