Accident

Adam

I smirk at the way she leans against the brick building, still dumbstruck and dazed. I've never enjoyed a kiss more than I did with her. It felt real. Passionate.

I stare at her legs as she makes her way into her apartment complex. No, I won't use her. It would be so easy to take her...but I can't. Not Rowan.

I walk silently through the alleyways connected to the heart of New York City, where many students of NYU roam. I've memorized the faces of all potential females I could take. After the last one passed unexpectedly, I need to be more careful about my actions. However I know I am growing weaker and I need to act quickly.

I find the one. She's able-bodied, a good 5 feet and seven inches. About 170 pounds. Perfect.

The problem with this one is the pair she's with. An older man and woman, presumably her guardians. I need to wait until she's alone to avoid detection. I blend in with the crowd, keeping my eye on the prize. I can hear their conversation clearly. She lives separately from her parents and they have just come from dinner.

The girl soon deposits her parental figures at the doorstop of a small townhouse. They all exchange well-wishes and endearments for longer than I'm comfortable with. Just get on with it, will you?

When the group splits off, I continue stalking her until she enters an alley - most likely as a shortcut. But I know this path. Shit, I'm going to have to save her hide.

This area is infamous for druggies, and feisty ones at that. Most have gone off their rockers completely and attack civilians that mistakenly step foot in their territory.

I can hear everything. "Where are you going, miss?"

Her voice trembles as she replies, "Just home, I thought this was my usual route but I guess I was wrong. May I get through?"

"I don't think so. Got any cash?"

There is some rustling. Clothes. The man is probably patting her down. "N-no, I'm just a student. Let go! I'll call the pol-!"

A gasp. I smell the metallic bite of blood and I break my cover, rushing to the scene. I see the filthy old man, clearly doped up on something strong by his wild eyes and fresh needle marks, about to stab the girl once more with his pocket knife. I sigh at his stupidity and disarm the fool in less than a second, then send him flying toward the brick behind him. There is a satisfying crack of bone and the man goes limp, now laying helplessly on the ground.

"She said to let go. You're lucky I don't kill you now." I turn to the girl, examining her wide fearful eyes as she looks up at me. She has the impression that I will hurt her. I apply pressure to her wound, which is in a bad area. The knife has missed any major organs or arteries, but the location on her right side could have meant trouble if I wasn't here sooner. She could have bled out from the damn three-inch blade!

"Let me take you somewhere safe. It's not far."

She shakes her head firmly. Stubborn. "I think I should get to a hospital. I've had enough strange men for one day."

I scoff impatiently. "You won't make it to the hospital." I have no choice but to pick her up, trapping both legs together securely with my left arm and ignoring her protests. We are at my home within thirty seconds, and I notice she's gone quiet. Probably shocked by my power. I bring her inside the shabby townhouse and lock the door with my key, then drop her on the floor of my kitchen. Linoleum flooring is best for cleaning blood. My feet are firmly planted and I stare at her as she scurries and scoots backward until her shoulder slams into a lower cabinet.

"W-What do you want with m-me?!" She's about to cry. How annoying.

I grab my tool kit with little emotion at all, then grab my bone saw. It's a manual saw, requiring great patience. Good thing we have all night. I also pick up a large tray meant for roasting turkey or ham, but I use it for catching my sustenance.

"I just need blood. Then you can go." I approach her slowly as she frantically looks around for an exit. "Don't bother. No windows and only one door, which I have the key to unlock. Just cooperate and you can leave within a few hours. It's going to be okay."

She tries to bolt anyway. Predictable. She runs into my chest and looks up at my face, thoroughly confused. I wrap my arms around her tightly so she can't run anymore. I don't feel like chasing tonight.

"Sweetheart, I can do things you can't. Will I need to tie you down, or will you be a good girl?" My whisper makes her tremble.

"And y-you'll let me go? After?" She won't even look at me. That makes this easier.

"I promise."

There is a very long stretch of silence. I let her take her time. I need her to trust me enough to not struggle.

Finally she speaks. "I won't run. Do what you need to do. Then let me go."

I smile in relief and lead her to the middle of the kitchen where I have a small table. I instruct her to sit down on the floor, leaning against the table leg. I give her a rag to bite down on.

"If you think you're going to scream, bite down on this. If you need to hold onto something, feel free to use the table. Most importantly: do not touch me and try not to squirm. It will hurt, but if you follow my orders you can go home within six hours." I make sure she agrees to everything and take off her shoes and leggings. She's wearing a skirt over it so I don't have to make her feel too uncomfortable.

I nod for her to bite down. I steady my bone saw right below her left knee, making sure the tray is positioned properly underneath it. Then I quickly slash the skin so she's used to a little pain. I can hear her groan when I do, but I keep going. As the blood starts dripping down into the tray, I start sawing slowly. I can't mess this up; I promised she would return home.

Thankfully I have no neighbors. Her muffled screams fill the apartment and she tries to remain still, but I know she won't last much longer. I saw quicker, trying to get through all the bone. The blood is flowing like a thick, warm waterfall of crimson into the tray. I just need enough for the next few weeks.

"Shit!" I forgot about the peroneal nerve. The pain is about to go from a 10 to a 15. "Brace yourself; I'm going to sever a nerve but it's connected to a main pathway of nerve clusters. It's going to hurt like hell." I look up at her face and she's both terrified and pale. I need to hurry before she bleeds out.

I move as fast as I can, sawing without much regard for the rest of the leg. Her screams turn to little moans of agony as she begins to lean to one side. She's going to pass out.

"Hang in there!" With one final movement, I break the rest of the bone with pure force and crack the calve apart from the knee with one strike of the saw handle. I grab a knife and cut the rest of the muscle and skin, completely severing the lower leg. I drop it beside me and reach forward to catch the girl before she falls and messes up my blood collection. The tray is almost full and I gently lay her down on the floor, covering her stump with a thick clean towel.

I wash the blood off my hands in the sink and use a lighter to get the fireplace going, then pick up my trusty iron, thrusting it into the flames. When the iron is glowing red at the end, I go back to the girl who is fortunately still breathing and unwrap the stump. I press the heated iron to the skin and hear the sizzling of boiling blood and burning skin. I hate the smell, but it's necessary. When the wound is properly cauterized, I properly clean the now burned area and bandage it. The bleeding has stopped and now it is a waiting game on whether she will wake or not.

I clean her off, making sure the girl won't get blood on any furniture. I carefully lay her on the couch and go back to my tray of blood. I take out several mason jars and bottles, then start transferring the liquid to containers. Once most of it is stored, I pick up the tray and drink the rest. I feel instantly energized and revitalized. This is what I needed.

The cleanup process is long and arduous, but eventually there is no trace left of the events that took place. The jars and bottles fill the fridge. My tools are squared away.

The girl still hasn't stirred. I can hear her slow but steady heartbeat. She's alive for now.

I check the news and end up getting sucked into some silly TV show about cheating wives and odd storyline twists. I think it's a soap opera or something.

I realize that there is less noise now than there was before. No heartbeat. I feel the girl's nonexistent pulse. Her body is slowly getting colder and I stand up, feeling remorse and rage and sorrow.

She was supposed to live. She was supposed to go home. Everything was supposed to be fine!

I kick the coffee table, cursing loudly. Two of its legs snap and I continue abusing it until it's just a pile of wood scraps. I can feel tears on my cheeks. This was an accident, but it was my fault. Stupid, worthless, careless!

I sit on the couch and stare at her pale countenance. I feel as if no time has passed, but by the time I get up to dispose of her I realize I've missed two classes already.

I leave her leg in the back room with all the others', then dismember her with my bare hands and burn the evidence. I put out the fire and grab the bones, putting them in the back room as well. That's five now. How many will die before I learn how to keep a girl alive?