Copper. I taste, copper.

The sickly taste of pennies invaded my senses. I pressed the back of my hand to my lips hoping to drown out the vile filth permeating every inch of my mouth.

Please, no blood this time.

Pulling my hand away my heart sank.

Of course, there is…here it comes.

Even having the forethought that my own mind could not control itself and the unholy screams of fear and disgust were my own, I told myself again, don’t look, don’t scream. Silly girl with silly thoughts.

At least I’m not surrounded by bodies this time. My chest sticky from the thick red blood as I stared down at myself, screams and shakes wracking my frame. Before darkness overtook me, my final thoughts reared their ugly head, I told you…. don’t look.

 It hadn’t always been like this. Six months ago, I was just a regular college student. I got up every morning, I went to class, I ate bad ramen, and old sushi. There was nothing out of the ordinary about me. Then something changed.

I started waking up in weird locations, covered in, blood, sometimes just one body slung over me, often though, surrounded by brutalized victims. My senses fully overwhelmed by cool sticky blood. After the third occurrence I sheared my silver hair as short as I could without being completely bald. My foster mother had a lot to say about that, but I got tired of scrubbing blood out of my long locks. I dropped out of school and moved into the city. I hate to say it but you’re less likely to wake up next to Sue from next door drained of blood and missing body parts when you live in the city. It’s generally John Doe from the alley on fifth.

I dragged myself up off my bed pulling the sheets with me to throw in my industrial style washer. This had been a daily ritual, and it was starting to get tedious. I pulled my tank top over my head and shed my shorts, stepping over the dead body on my bedroom floor. I think his name was Casey, maybe Chase? It didn’t matter, no one would miss him judging by the state of his hair and clothes.

You’ve become callous. It was like the voice in my head was mocking me.

Of course, I was callous. This is not the first body I’d stepped over, and if this string of events continued, it would not be the last. I leaned down to grip under his armpits and dragged him to the bathroom placing him in the jacuzzi style tub.

“Thank god this thing is cheap plastic, huh buddy? Otherwise our neighbors would be super pissed.”

Oh, my sweet, you continue to go further into the abyss, now you’re talking to yourself. I was starting to get annoyed by my mental best friend.

“Listen lady, shut up, I don’t need two inner monologues.”

I dropped Chase into the tub before turning to my towel cabinet. I grabbed a bottle of Muriatic acid and my handy dandy pellet lye.

“Hopefully nobody comes looking for you, huh bud?”

I poured equal parts into the tub and waited, watching the flesh bubble and sizzle as the acid broke my latest victim down. I flipped on the water in my shower, grateful for the luxury of a separate stall. As I waited for the water to get hot, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, my unnatural golden eyes staring back at me. I’d been told they had significantly dulled, I could see it.

There was a light stirring in my chest, like something moving around inside of me. I had felt it before but never really thought to acknowledge it as more than jitters. After 180 days of movement and death, I stopped questioning.

I backed into the shower casting my eyes to the tub one final time. This was going to take a while.

I dragged what was left of the body down the stairs in a large plastic tub. Praying that the acid wouldn’t melt through. Even knowing what I did, using my chemical knowledge, I remained hyper-vigilant.

I hefted the container into the bed of my F-150 and headed toward the dump. I would bury the remains across a few different dump sites. No cameras made it easy to avoid unwelcome questioning.

New York was the perfect choice for our new home, don’t you think?

I jerked; the voice had never been this clear.

It’s okay dove, I won’t take offense to you ignoring me. The voice faded off leaving me to focus on my task.

“Hey Thistle, haven’t seen you here in a long while.” Jeremy smiled as he took the weight of my vehicle and the cargo load in the back, “you been doin’ good”

“You know it, just chugging along with classes and keeping my head down, same ol’ same ol’.” The lie rolled easily off my tongue, but that flutter in my chest returned, almost as if someone was laughing at me, in me.

“Good to hear it doll, for the load you’re haulin’ today, it’ll be $85.” He cocked his head and grabbed the receipt pad out of his pocket.

“Oh, no worries about the receipt.” I handed him a hundred and waved off the change. The man stood in a literal dump all day, the least I could do was tip his services. “See you later.”

He winked and waved me through his crooked grin practically lighting up the dismal surroundings.

Poor man, one night with you and they’d be waving his parts through the next day.

I cringed at the thought of Jeremy becoming the next victim of whatever was going on around me.

I picked my areas carefully, using the map they provided at the office. Marking the areas off with a sharpie, if anyone ever stumbled across this, they’d find a treasure unlike any they’d ever seen. I stopped and pulled my shovel out of the back, “time to get to work.”

I had been digging for what felt like days but could only amount to about two hours and I had only completed four out of the six chosen locations. I debated throwing what was left of the guy in this one remaining hole, but that was too risky. It was entirely possible someone might stumble across the bag of remains. I had to keep going.

I took off to the next spot and started digging when a man rounded the corner 40 yards ahead. In a panic I dropped my shovel and started hauling garbage bags full of garbage from neighboring dumpsters off my truck.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Hey there, you need some help?” He turned as if to approach me, and I needed to think quickly.

I kicked the container full of parts back to the back of my truck bed as if I was pulling garbage from around it.

“Those look awfully heavy miss.”

Rip and tear listen to him scream.

I shook my head. “No, I think I got it, just a couple more left and I’ll be good to go.”

I glanced to my right, thankful the shovel had fallen out of his line of sight. He nodded and headed on his way, in the opposite direction. “Shit, that was too close.”

I sank to the ground, ignoring the filth and flies that surrounded me almost instantaneously.

“Okay Thistle, back to work girl.”

My head was thankfully silent as I dug the remaining burial holes. I couldn’t remember the night before, but the dreams were always crystal clear. They always started the same, a young boy calling out my name panicked, maybe scared. I didn’t know his name, and I couldn’t ever recall meeting him before.

I never figured out where he was, I would search calling out to the voice until I was practically hoarse. It would feel like hands were wrapping themselves around my neck until I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I’d wake up gasping for breath clawing at my throat usually through layers of blood. It was one torture after another, and often all I’d think about after a particularly bad day.

 As I pushed the last bag in, I said a silent prayer to anyone who was listening for the man without a family, the man without a friend, the man who ended up dead on my bedroom floor covered in blood.

His blood was sweet, and the final beats of his heart, soothed my own.

I covered his remains and moved back to my truck tossing the shovel into the bed. I wish…I wish it wasn’t like this. My life had been normal, I’d gotten complacent almost wishing for something to happen, anything. Not this, I’d never wish for this.

You can’t go back so why dwell?

I guess that was the real question, why dwell? I’d given up so much, because of things I couldn’t control.

There isn’t much we control, and you will never control this.

I didn’t even know what this is, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to control it.

Just be happy you’re alive. You could be like the poor saps you continue to bury in this wasteland.

I rested my forehead on my steering wheel, it wouldn’t surprise me if this was all my lot in life turned out to be.

I turned the engine over and took a deep breath. There was nothing else for me to do, I had to just roll with it. Besides, who would believe that these men just ended up dead on my bedroom floor, me covered in their blood? Authorities wouldn’t even stop to question. I’d have a one-way ticket to death row, and as much as it pained me to feel this way, I desperately wanted to live.

I hadn’t accomplished anything, I hadn’t gone anywhere, I hadn’t done anything with my life, and goddammit who cares if I’m being selfish. I just wanted to live my life.

That boy probably wanted to live his life as well, and he’s now resting six or so feet under.

Yeah…then there’s that.

I drove through the gates of the dump, waving at Jeremy on my way out. I was starving, I hadn’t stopped to grab food this morning, too much going on in my head. I fought through midday traffic on the I-495 to get to my favorite diner in the heart of New York City.

“Thistle! What a lovely surprise, we haven’t seen you around here lately!” Margaret called from behind the dessert counter.

I slid onto my regular stool and smiled warmly at the first friend I ever made in the city. She slid my decaf blonde across the counter and went to grab another order before heading back to me.

“You know, just busy with classes at NYU, nothing new.”

She smirked, I knew the question before she even asked, “art history and chemistry, I still haven’t chosen a major.”

“You’ll figure it out eventually hun, we all start somewhere.”

She touched my hand gently before reaching for her pen, “your usual? Or are we finally trying something different?” She chuckled to herself as I raised my eyebrow, I’d ordered the same thing from day one.

“Alright Hun, I’ll get that started for you.” She took off to the pass and handed off her orders.

I reached into my backpack and pulled out my notebook. Most people carried around a little black book full of their sexual conquests, or their thoughts and ideas for new stories or musicals, at least that was the usual here and in California. Mine was different. Every time I buried someone, I put a name in my book. It didn’t matter if it was their name or one I made up, but I swore to myself that once the notebook was filled, I’d pay it forward. Not sure it would matter, but at this point, it was the only way I’d be able to sleep at night.

“Here we go, one California Benedict with extra hollandaise, and a side of extra crisp bacon. Get you anything else?”

“I’m good Ms. Margaret but thank you.”

She took off to a table in the back. I heard a bell jingle as I tucked into my meal, signaling another customer entering or exiting the restaurant.

“You’re in my seat….” A gruff voice whispered directly at my ear.

I jumped about sixty feet in the air and swung my steak knife, narrowly missing his neck. He gripped my wrist and squeezed forcing me to drop my impromptu weapon into his waiting hand.

“Woah there, sorry about that miss, just a bit of a joke.”

I stared him down, there was nothing funny about having someone invade your personal space, “Not funny, and I’m not moving, so find somewhere else to sit.”

He smiled and pulled the stool out directly next to me, “this’ll do me just fine.” He lifted his napkin and placed it in his lap before swiveling in his seat to stare at me. “So, what are we having?”

I shook my head and reached for my headphones, I rarely had to use them to avoid conversation, most just took in my “fuck off” style attitude and left me alone naturally. I slid the buds into my ears and started up my writing playlist. It kept me calm, something I often needed after burying someone.

He reached over and tugged my left bud out and held it up to his ear, bopping along to Jordan Mackampa,

“Teardrops in a Hurricane, great choice love.” He hummed quietly under his breath as he perused the menu.

I wanted desperately to rip my headphone from his hand, but I’d already garnered enough attention swinging a knife at him.

As if reading my mind, he handed me back my bud. I took it staring at his outstretched hand.

“What?”

He crooked a smile in my direction and canted his head. I sighed quietly and handed him my right bud, shoving the left back into my ear. He held it by his side as Margaret came over and took his order.

“Lucas, what’ll you have darlin?”

He turned his megawatt smile in her direction, and something stirred in my chest. I wasn’t sure if it was butterflies or this thing living inside of me.

“Margaret my love, I’ll take the California Benedict, with…” he paused for a moment and I felt his eyes on me for a split second, “extra hollandaise, and a side of bacon.”

Margaret cut her eyes in my direction before handing the order to the chef.

Lucas stuck my headphone in his ear and pulled his phone out to scroll through, blissfully silent.

When I noticed he was preoccupied I reopened my notebook and started writing again.

He’s looking at us, look at his eyes.

I turned my head slowly and made eye contact with him for the first time.

He’s got heterochromia…the shocking nature of his eyes threw me off. His left half green and brown, split horizontally down the middle and his right a crystal blue color with golden flecks littered throughout. I could feel my mouth hanging open in shock. Not what I was expecting at all. I finally pulled my eyes away from his and scanned the rest of his face.

He’s gorgeous, I’d love to take a bite out of him.

Curly black hair tumbled over his forehead, straight nose with almond shaped mismatched eyes, a crooked grin, with perfectly straight teeth brought his entire face together beautifully. His skin a gorgeous tan color, like he spent his days out in the sun.

“Welcome to the panic room….

Where all your darkest fears are gonna come for you

Come for you….”

I had tuned out of the music playing in the background. Au/Ra was now blaring through my headset and into both of our heads. He smiled and tapped my chin upwards to close my mouth.

“You’re quite adorable when you’re flustered.”

 I bet his blood would taste divine…

I jerked out of his grip throwing money down on the counter for my food.

“Thanks Margaret!”

I slid off my stool and hustled out the door. I couldn’t let this happen. I couldn’t get close to another person. The voice in my head reminded me why I never looked. Why beauty wasn’t something I’d ever be able to enjoy from more than a distance.

The sweet feel of his flesh splitting as his life flowed into our mouth.

I flinched, my stomach turning at the thought of his body lifeless on my bedroom floor. That couldn’t happen. He was too perfect. Someone would miss him. I suppose I could let that diner go, find a new place to get my egg fix. I swung my backpack over my shoulder, “fuck this, let’s get home.”