Mid-week Blues Buster 13
Allie pulled her hand back, the knife slick with blood. The sparks were so much more vivid when they died slowly, in pain. His bowels spilled out over his lap, and she poked at them with the serrated edge, listening to him howl. As always during these times, her mind bifurcated, and her anticipatory joy was overlaid with lectures from medical school. She’d loved dissecting bodies in class, of course, but nothing compared to seeing the organs pulsing and contracting, doing their jobs because they didn’t yet know that the person they belonged to was being brutally eviscerated.
When it came, she gasped in ecstasy. This was the biggest one yet – filled with rainbows invisible to human eyes, swirling in kaleidoscopic patterns around his empty corpse. It trailed along her fingers, and Allie felt it again, the sense of knowing, of understanding, of acceptance. Her parents had taken her to church every Sunday for years, and she’d heard lecture after lecture on the sanctity of life and God’s Love for His Creation, but they were wrong. This is why we were put here, she knew, for the weak to give their beauty to the strong.
Her bike was parked across town, and she watched the stars fade into dawn as she walked, letting the high of the spark carry her after a long night. She could see them long after the sun rose, bursts of X-Rays and radio waves which pierced her eyelids like angels. Allie couldn’t wait to get back to the road on days like this, pine trees to the east, the Pacific to the west, and the next kill somewhere up ahead.
She knew that something was wrong before she rounded the corner. Fuck. Ryan was sitting on her bike, toying with her helmet, and looking every inch the scruffy rebel that made all the ladies weak. Allie knew better, though. He was the weak one. He saw the sparks, too, knew what they meant and how to draw on their power, but wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t kill anymore, not after that night in Tupelo, and he’d been after her to follow his lead, like that was going to happen. There was a look on his face, though, that said something was different about this visit.
“I’m in trouble, Allie. And you’re the only one who can help.”
If you’re interested, we first met Allie here: https://projectgemini12.wordpress.com/2013/05/06/visdare-18-inspect/