Dr. Amato Beaumont

"Another body has turned up on Rue Mouffetard.” the news reporter said solemnly. 

“A woman in her mid twenties, blond, about five feet four inches. She was mutilated and dismembered. Police are currently at the scene. No other information is being released at this time. We will keep you updated on the newest killing.” the other reporter chimed in. He was a strangely stocky man with a shining bald spot in the middle of his head. His tie was crooked and revealed an unappealing stain under the third button. Dr. Amato Beaumont continued to peal at his apple with his scalpel. Taking a bite when the area was freshly peeled. He listened intently to the news broadcast. Waiting patiently for more information on the dead girl. Even though he already knew every detail. He recalled it quickly in his mind. The news was becoming boring to him now, anyways. Her long blond hair being coated slowly in her thick blood. The way she was whispering to herself before he had hit her. He wasn’t planning an attack for last night. The opportunity was just too rich. He had to get smart. Too many killings too close together makes you seem sloppy. He was not sloppy. Every cut he made was perfect. Her flesh was not hacked or sawed at. Clean cuts, like the ones he had learned in med school. He knew what he was doing.

The bulletin bell sounded on his TV screen. This could only mean that the news station had acquired more information. Dr. Beaumont waited eagerly.

“They must have turned her over.” he said, smiling.

“Upon further investigation the police had found a signature carved into the women’s stomach. If you have children in the room it might be best to change stations or shield their eyes.” a picture suddenly came up on the screen behind their heads. It was a picture of her stomach, carved in elegant letters read: Dr. M.D. Again he smiled as he, and the rest of France admired his work. What beautiful work it was. Completely immersed in his own perfection he almost didn’t realize that his phone was vibrating on the side table. He picked it up slowly.

“Hello?” he said carefully. Acting as if he was just wakened from a nap.

“Amato, it’s Dace Curcio. Have you seen the news?” He said in a panic. Dace was a colleague Dr. Beaumont did not care for.

“Yes, Dace.” he said dimly.

“Do you know what happened?” he was surely panicked.

“I said I saw the news, did I not?” he answered, annoyed. 

“Amato, this is horrible!” always the bleeding heart, Dace was. 

“Things like this happen everyday Dace, I feel for her family. But I’d like to get back to my nap if that’s alright with you?” always act indifferent. If it didn’t directly happen to you, why be upset? “Good bye Dace.” and he clicked his phone closed. He rubbed his temples.
“Might have to start a list, Dace is first.” he laughed to himself. He wouldn’t kill Dace, but the idea was appealing. 

Dr. Amato Beaumont laid his head down on the arm of his couch and covered himself with a knit blanket his mother had made him before she passed. He might as well take a nap, after all, he was not a liar. He closed his eyes. The images of the killing floated softly through his dreams. He would sleep soundly tonight.

Reviews

[Caitlynxoxo]

oh wow! I loved how this chapter was in Dr. A.B's POV. It really gave more detail and background into the story. Can't wait for the next chapter!

xoxo Caitlyn xoxo