The Contractor

This story is about a Contractor with a dark side. He loves his wife and on the surface lives a normal life. When he goes on a killing spree, he doesn't remember doing it.

    Tom wiped the the edge of the utility knife onto the leg of his blue jeans as he watched Sara slither across the hardwood floor desperately trying to escape; leaving a fresh trail of blood in her wake.   The lifeless body of her lover lay sprawled across the bed where Tom had began his work.  It was surprising to Tom how easily a sharp knife could cut through a mans throat. The b*****d had died instantly, and the look of terror forever cemented on his face carried him into the afterlife.  Tom didnt feel any remorse about the killing he had to do. The guy was f*****g his wife and there had to be consequences.
    Dumb luck if you could call it luck had uncovered their sinful secret.  He had seen his wives car in the driveway of this house a few days before.  He happened to be doing a roof two blocks down the street.   Tom thought that it odd she would be in that neighborhood considering no one they knew lived over there.  That night during dinner he had asked her what she had been up to all day, and she looked him in the eyes and told him," Nothing really, I spent all afternoon cleaning and doing laundry,  you know just the normal routine."  
    There was nothing normal about what was happening now; she was going to die slowly. Tom had committed himself to the task and like everything Tom started he was going to see it through.  
"Sara, where are you?"  Tom was toying with her.  He wanted to maker her suffer.  He wanted her to beg for her life...to plead with him to stop.
    Tom was still in the bedroom when he reached into his tool bag pulled out his 24V Dewalt cordless drill and box of bits. Taking the key chuck from the side of the drill handle, he methodically replaced the Phillips head screw driver bit with a two-inch hole saw.  Its sharp jagged teeth were sure to inflict the maximum amount of pain.  Madness raged  through his body, and a dark smile spread across his face.  When he was satisfied with his selection he reached over and picked the remote off the nightstand next to the bed.  Flipping through the channels he  found the rock n roll  station and blasted the volume to mask the noise of what he was about to come next.  Looking at the already decaying body on the bed he admired his work before saying
    "This music doesn't bore you to death does it?" and then began laughing hysterically.
    The trail of blood left by his injured wife led out of the bedroom.  He followed it into the hallway, and up to a door where it stopped.  He reached down to turn the handle of what appeared to be a bathroom based on its proximity to the other bedrooms and the small slab of tile he could make out from the crack at the bottom of the door.  The door was locked so he leaned his head against the hollow wood and listened intently; he could vaguely make out the sound of her labored breathing.
    "Sara, come out come out wherever you are."  Tom said mockingly
    The door know shook violently and Sara grew more frantic sinking deeper into the bathtub.  Her side exploded with pain from the gash the utility knife had made before she was able to roll off the bed.  The realization that she was going to die naked in a tub made her weep uncontrollably.  She began praying for God to let her live when finally the door burst open; she was staring into the face of her killer.  
    "Tom please" she begged him for her life, "please God please don't hurt me anymore.  Please let me live.  You can have everything, the house, the savings, I will tell them I cheated and that you can have it all."    
    "Don't hurt you? Don't hurt you?  Oh, no, you don't get to say that to me.  How could you f**k him Sara.  How could you betray me that? You are my f*****g wife.  We are f*****g married.  I love you" Tom replied angrily.  
    "I am sorry Tom, I am so so sorry she replied in between short breaths and sobbing.  
    "Oh I am sure you are Sara, I am sure you are very very sorry right now!"  he shouted back.  
    Tom pulled the drill from behind his back, and started slowly making his way to the tub.  
    "Thanks for making this easy for me, he said"  sounding amused. Patting his hand on the side of the tub.  "I wont have much of a mess to clean up now."
    She screamed at the top of her lungs for him to stop as the drill was placed to the side of her neck.  She began fighting him off but he easily  overcame her attempts and lowered the drill to the middle of her breasts.  
    "You ripped the heart right out of my chest babe, and now I'm going to do the same thing to you." he said before adding"  Til death do us part, right".  I guess that's going to be today.
    The teeth of the hole saw ripped away at her flesh.
    "NO!" Tom screamed as he sat up in his bed.  He was shaking uncontrollably and covered with sweat."  He reached over to the nightstand on his side of the bed, and turned on the brass lamp.  The light temporarily affected his vision until his eyes could adjust to the rapid change.  
    Sara rolled over and reached out and touched him on the shoulder startling him.  He jumped nervously and then relief swept through him as he realized it had only been a dream.  A horrible, horrible dream.
    "Honey, are you okay?" she said filled with concern.
    "I am now baby," he said sighing, and hugging her tightly, "I am now.  Go back to sleep I was just having a nightmare."
    "What was it about?"she asked
    "Strange, but I really don't remember," he lied.  The truth was too terrible to admit and he just wanted to forget about the whole thing if that was even possible.  "I'll turn the light back out baby, I am sorry I woke you up."
    "Okay honey," she kissed him lightly on the cheek and then turned back over and closed her eyes.
    He was still shaking a little when he reached over to the lamp and turned the knob, sending the room back into darkness.  He whispered softly to himself, "Thank God it was just a dream."  It all felt so real.
    When he woke the next morning, Sara was already in the shower.  She was singing someone like you by Adele; humming the words she didn't know.
    Tom took off his boxers and walked into the bathroom attached to their master bedroom.  He slid open the door to the shower and stepped inside to join his wife.  She smiled at him and then kissed him fully on the mouth.
    "Good morning handsome" she said and then took him by his manhood with her soft wet hands.  They made love in the shower.
    An hour and a half later Tom was driving through the neighborhood on his way to work.  Lost in thoughts of his dream the night before he failed to notice the police tape blocking the front door of a  house two blocks from where he was working. He pulled up to the house,  and took the last sip of his coffee.  He then grabbed his tool belt from the chrome diamond paneled toolbox on the back of his company truck.  
     The ladder lay horizontally against the east side of the house where Hector had left it the day before.  He rested the ladder against the eave of the house and climbed to the top.  Hector, his helper, was getting his too lbelt out of the toolbox when he called to him,  to get the felt paper out of the back of the truck and bring it up the ladder .  When Hector reached the top of the roof, Tom reached over and grabbed the roll of felt from Hector so he could climb up too.  Together with Hector standing on one side of the roof, Tom started walking backwards with the roll between his hands, covering the plywood with the black paper, until he reached the opposite end. Tom reached into his tool belt and took out his utility knife.  He bent onto his knee and while securing the felt paper with his boot, opened his knife to cut the first run.  Tom immediately dropped the knife and it hit the roof with a thud.  To his horror the blade was covered with dry blood.  
    "What did I do?"  Oh my God, what did I do?
    Straining to avoid a face-plant in the shrubs, Tom awkwardly dashed across the roof back to the ladder.  Hector looked at his boss confused.
    "Hector, finish up the felt, I forgot I had an errand to run for Sara," Tom lied.  
    "Okay, boss"  Hector replied, shaking his head.  He knew Tom was lying but why would he use Sara to escape having to work.  He was the boss though, so Hector just sighed as he watched Tom begin his descent to the yard.   Hector thought his boss had been acting very strange since the accident.   
    Tom struggled to catch his breath as he started up his truck. He had sprinted from the side of the house, and his middle-aged legs and smokers lungs weren't exactly track meet material.  But he was surprisingly agile for a  forty-six year old contractor.  This cant be happening he thought to himself, tearing out of the driveway onto the main road.  When he approached the stop sign at the first intersection a block from his job, he saw the big white van in front of the same house he had dreamed of.  Gulping down his trepidation; he rolled nervously towards the house. For once he appreciated the twenty-five mile an hour speed limit.  His hands gripped the steering wheel in terror as he read the words"Metro Police Forensics Unit" in large letters just below the van's rear windows.  He parked his truck a few houses beyond where the van was parked and adjusted his side mirror until the front door of the house, still donning the yellow caution tape, was in clear view.  
    What he failed to notice, however, was the unmarked, burgundy-colored, Dodge Charger parked three houses behind him.  Detective Max Hudson was sitting in his car, drinking coffee and dictating his notes into the digital recorder he kept in the glove box.  The house keeper, Lina Masterson was the one who phoned the police.  She had found the husband when she arrived for work. According to her statement, as soon as she saw him, she screamed in horror and ran right out of the house then got in her car and locked the doors, before calling 911.  When the first officer on the scene arrived he had taken a brief statement and then told her to sit and wait for him to make sure the house was secure.  
    Just over an hour had passed since Hudson had viewed the the bodies of Chris and Jenny Marks and taken the house keepers statement.  He was now going over the details.  She had found the man lying naked in his bed, with his throat slit, his hair and the left side of his face were glued to his sheets, by blood, as if it were crimson colored paste.  It was the uniform officer who discovered Jenny Marks in the bathtub with a bloody gaping whole in the center of her breasts.    The flesh surrounding the void was ripped and mangled. The killer had paid special attention to her, letting her crawl around on the floor and across the upstairs hallway.   Hudson racked his brain trying to figure out why.  A jealous lover perhaps?   The most disturbing and grotesque thing of all; her heart was missing.  It was found in the wastebasket next to the toilet.  Hudson emptied his stomach into the open commode.  
    Detective Hudson made sure he wrote every detail of the crime scene into the report jacket.  That was the department's fancy way to say manilla folder. Everything but his vomiting anyway. He had written the name Marks at the top with a sharpie.   As he finished making his entry, he looked up and noticed  a big, black Chevrolet pick-up truck that hadn't been parked there when he first arrived.  It wasn't running, but he thought he could make out someone in the driver seat.   Lewis Roofing was stenciled in gold letters on the tailgate.  Hudson quickly jotted down the license plate number.  The years he spent running-the-hamster-wheel had made him a creature of habit.   

Reviews

[ms. barrie]

This is incredible, your attention to detail, the flow! Very descriptive, gripping and quite disturbing. I am intrigued as to what comes about. Amazing writing, as well as the concept...story you have thus far! I hope you continue you this at your convenience. Thank you for sharing. 100 to 100 *favorites*

[CURETONTAX]

AND SO THE PLOT THICKENS...FINALLY!!! :)