Somehow, watching someone smash someone's head in, was more disturbing than the stabbing and the cutting. Piper's heart raced as she watched the man shove a section of his victim's cut-up t-shirt into his mouth. The guy was dead now. It was so obvious, that moment when the person was no longer themselves, and became a hunk of meat, officially just a body. They take on a leaden stillness, and their color changes, and the face. The face was the main tell. They didn't look human anymore. Her obsession with these sites started with looking at celebrity autopsy photographs. Those faces haunted her, yet she couldn't help but seek them out.
Chapter Two
LONDON
Rowdy groups, probably people on their way back from the clubs, passed Aadesh's flat as he crossed the road. He turned back to see his friend dawdling behind him and looked at his wristwatch. 3.15am. Some lads were butchering Wonderwall as they passed by, and Aadesh couldn't help but cringe.
Some of the other residents hovered in the doorway of his block of flats, the smoke from their cigarettes floating off into the crisp, early morning sky. The adrenaline from his performance had worn off and now he wanted the warm cocoon of his flat. It was tiny, even by London standards, but it was his, and it was cozy, covered with posters of his favorite films and full of random memorabilia.
His friend had finally caught up with him when he bypassed his neighbors and put his key in the lock. Although the inside of his flat was okay, the rest of the building was gray, dirty, and bleak, reminiscent of some horror film, or post-apocalyptic thriller. Sometimes he would think about how secure his flat would be in the event of a zombie outbreak. These were the kind of things that ran through his head after a gig, when he was drunk.
Usually he didn't drink, the subtle guilt his parents had instilled in him over time had an effect, but when he had to get up on stage, he needed at least two drinks to take the edge off. The nerves would soon dissipate, and always at the same point. As soon as he heard the first person laugh, he would then relax. He could stand the heckling, as long as he got at least one laugh first.
The stairwell echoed as his mate ran up the stairs. Aadesh had no idea why he was rushing as he didn't have the keys and would just have to wait for him at the top, unless...he better not knock. Nadia was probably asleep already, and if she had to get out of bed to let his friend in, he wouldn't hear the end of it in the morning. Too late. By the time Aadesh got to the top of the stairs, panting, he could already see Nadia at the door, but not looking as angry as he would have thought. "Thank goodness you guys are home. I was getting well creeped out."
"What's wrong?" Aadesh ran to greet her at the front door, Steve had already barged inside like he owned the place, walking past Nadia, only giving a grunt of acknowledgment.
"My dickwad of a friend showed me this horrible video. We watched a horror film, and then she was like, 'have you seen that video of that fat man getting murdered?' "
"Fat man," he said in disapproval. He didn't like people referring to someone by only one of their characteristics like it defined them. A lot of the other comedians that would go on stage would take pot-shots, overweight people being the easiest victims. He remembered one of his fellow stand ups say, 'It's okay though, because they do it to themselves.' Having a dynamite combination of polycystic ovary syndrome and underactive thyroid, his mother had struggled with her weight no end, and because of her, it was the one line he wouldn't cross.
"Her words, not mine," Nadia snapped defensively.
"You know you hate horror. Why do it to yourself?"
"I thought I could build myself up. You know, like how people eat hotter and hotter chillies. Get a tolerance."
"Why?" he asked, bemused.
"So that you don't end up having to go to the cinema with Georgina again."
"Seriously. We. Are. Just. Friends," he said emphatically, tired of hearing this again.
"I know. But we need to do more stuff together."
"Alright lovebirds, stop being boring. I want to see that video. I'm intrigued now." Steve had sprawled out onto the sofa.
"No way. I'm going to bed." Nadia headed towards Aadesh's room and glanced back. "See you soon." Aadesh couldn't tell if it was a question, a suggestion, or a demand. Steve had already turned the console on and was searching for the video. Aadesh wasn't much into gore. He preferred a more subtle horror.
Nothing much was happening on screen, so Steve scrolled further into the video. A dark figure loomed over someone bound to a chair, but they didn't move. "This is boring. When does it get to the good bit?" Steve fast-forwarded and stopped the video as shit got real.
"Oh, crap." Aadesh perched himself on the edge of the sofa, leaning forward, transfixed by the unbelievable sight flashing up on his television screen. "Oh. Eww. No. Can you turn that off?"
"But it's just getting to the good part." Steve turned up the volume, and Aadesh wondered why he was still friends with him. Just because they grew up together, didn't seem like a good enough reason these days. "Can you turn it down? Nadia's trying to sleep."
"God, you're such a buzz kill. I might get a taxi.
