Show of Evil

She did not answer but instead stared down in shock at him. He was stark naked and erect, sitting in a chair beside the bed.

'Cat got your tongue?' He chuckled. He moved the scalpel to the neckline of her silk nightshirt and drew the sharp blade slowly down the length of the shirt. It spread open in the wake of the incision until he had split it all the way to her knees. He took the knife and flipped first one side of the shirt, then the other, aside.

'There,' he said, staring lasciviously at her naked body. 'Now we're even.'

Still not a sound from her.

'Can't you even say hello?'

She did not look at him. She stared at the ceiling.

'Talk to me!' he roared.

She turned her head slowly towards him.

'Martin was right,' she said.

'Oh, Martin was right. Martin was right,' he mimicked her. 'Martin was finally right, you should say. And only because I let him know. I gave him the clues and he finally figured it all out.'

'That's what he said.'

'Bright boy. Well, Doc, I don't have much time. Got a lot to do before I'm on my way. Got to be waiting when he comes.'

'Comes where?'

He just smiled.

She did not ask again.

He held the scalpel up again and regarded it with sensual pleasure. 'Know what I like about knives, Doctor? I like the way they feel. I like their power. People have a visceral fear of knives. And they're so efficient. All you have to do…' - he slashed the scalpel through the air — '… is that. Swish, and it's all over. Exsanguination. Instant rigor mortis. Instant! All the air rushes out of the lungs. It's such a… a pure sound. Whoosh. Ten, fifteen seconds and it's all over. And this? This is a masterpiece. A scalpel. The ultimate blade. So beautiful.'

'It's nice to know you killed them first, before you—'

'Oh, she can talk. Before I what? Before I cleansed them? Before I blooded them?'

'So that's what you did. Cleansed them,' she said with sarcasm.

'Oh, we're going to push it, are we?'

'Push what?' she answered wearily. 'I don't doubt for a minute you're going to kill me.'

'I might surprise you.'

'You can't surprise me any more,' she said.

He stood up and began to stroke himself. His lips were twitching around a sickening leer.

'You always wanted it, didn't you? Huh? Wanted me to throw you down on the floor of that cell and fuck your brains out.'

'You're delusionary.'

The smile vanished. The eyes went dead.

'Rebecca was right. Rebecca was always right. She was right about my brother and Mary. Get rid of them, she told me. Get rid of the hate. She was there when I stuffed the towels in the car window. And when they were cold and stiff, we did it in the front seat, right in front of them. Now you're even, she said. Now you can forget them. Just like I forgot Shackles and Rushman and Peter and Billy. Just like I finally could forget Linda and that creepy little coward, Alex Lincoln. She told me you were in the pit, too, that you were just as nuts as the rest of us. You know what it's like, don't you? To be smarter than all of them, listen to them pampering, pandering, so righteous. So fucking proud of themselves playing God. And they were all wrong. All of you were wrong. That's the best part of it all. Now everybody will know, the whole world will know.'

'I was wrong,' Molly said. 'You're not delusionary, you're demonic.'

'Demonic,' he sneered, raising his eyebrows.

'Demonic,' he repeated, savouring the word. 'I like that. Is that a medical term?'