It was all there. All familiar. All necessary.
It was like a checklist in her mind as she went about the tasks of her job. As each thing was completed she was able to tick off the box and continue to the next. If something wasn't completed it messed with her balance, it made her irritable and it just became messy. She wasn't messy.
She ticked off the box in her mind of preparation. The tools of her trade were neatly laid out on the table beside her, a shimmering display of silver on a mat black tray. Each glimmering item had a story, each one had a use but they weren't always used. Her job didn't always require the use of each of them even if she wished that it did.
Another box in her mind ticked off as the man began to breath rapidly and wriggle in his confinements. She quietly hushed him like a mother would a screaming child, cooing softly and running her fingers over his half bald head. “Hush, it will all be over soon. Once I have what I need then you will be free to go. It's an easy trade. The faster you give it to me, the faster your able to leave,” she smiled, her white teeth shining down at him. She always thought that it gave a false sense of security. Made them think good things, making her job easier. What she didn't know was that her sweaty face and exposed part of her body, the smeared dark lines around her eyes, the scraggly hair around her face made her bared teeth made her appear more like an alligator.
“What am I doing here? Let me go you stupid bitch! Let me out of here! Do you know who I am?” the man yelled at her angrily.
She hummed quietly as she frowned. She checked off the initial anger in her mind. Even if she didn't like it she knew that it was necessary. Without it, or despair, then the entire thing didn't work. She just happened to prefer the despair over the anger.
Gently she tapped the top of his head as she stood up straight and moved outside of the man's peripheral vision. He began to thrash more violently. “I already told you how I would let you go, are you ready to give me what I want?” she asked him calmly, the clinking metal of her tools causing the man to pause in his thrashing to attempt to discern what she was doing.
She looked over her shoulder at him, his head pushing against the restraints in attempt to peer over at her, “Wha-what do you want?” he asked gulping hard. Probably his pride, he had asked her if she knew who he was. She did, it was one of her check marks. It was required before continuing through her course of actions.
She smiled to herself as she lifted a needle and an object that looked similar to a melon baller. “What do I want?” she echoed after a few moments delay. She tinked the objects together before she turned to face the man again. “I think you'll be able to accommodate me without much effort,” she explained as she walked back over to the side of the table where he was strapped, the ominous click of her heels echoing in the otherwise empty room. She leaned over the man, the sweet, alligator-like, smile still on her face.
“What I want from you is your voice and your life,” she explained to him as his trashing started again, more violent then before.
“You're the one.... the one from the news! The Bay Harbor Butcher...”
She tilted her head back and laughed. It wasn't a light laugh. No. It was more of the type of laugh that you hear out of a truly amused person, the deep guttural chuckle of someone truly entertained.
Her laugh came to an abrupt halt as she slammed her hands on the table beside him, her earlier sweet smile turned into a true snarl of rage. “Don't insult me with your media trash. I'm ten times the serial killer then the Butcher was. I leave a legacy of death in my wake. You should feel honored to be a victim of mine,” she said the rage falling off of her face almost as quickly as it came. She pushed herself gently away from the table where the man lay, her head tilting from side to side as she mulled over a thought in her mind. “If you must know who I am then I will tell you. I'm Elizabeth. I'm not in the news, and intend to stay that way,” she explained as she lifted the tools in her hand to eye level.
“Elizabeth what?” the man asked, his voice quavering with the fear and understanding he lacked moments ago. “Elizabeth will do,” she informed him noncommittally as she discreetly leaned over the table and lifted the slender needle up. “Now it's time for that voice that you promised me,” she said to him as the needle's point sank into the soft flesh of the eye.
The screaming echoed in the small room as Elizabeth marked another box off in her mind. She set the other tool down, leaving the needle in the man's eye. She retrieved another item from the tray, the man's whimpering intensified as it heard the rattling around.
Elizabeth grabbed a scalpel and with a deft movement it was sank deeply into the man's flesh. She pushed hard, wiggling the instrument to get a louder sound from the man.......