Blood in the Water
It had started with one. One mangled body speared atop the fountain. Blood seeped into the water as it cycled through the jet streams. Who knew one body could have that much blood? The fountain was stained red for weeks, the splotches of blood still clinging to the cracks in the stone. No one knew what to do. Local police tried to cover it up, saying it was a prank, that the body was fake. But the stench. The stench of blood and rotting flesh remained, even after they moved the body. People still talked about it, even when they were told to stop. Some said that it didn’t happen at all, that people made it up for attention. But why would something like that be made up? It was near Halloween after all. Maybe it was a prank. A decoration gone wrong.
But then the second showed up. The body hung from the clocktower, the rope barely holding its weight. Blood pooled beneath it, a crimson puddle stark against the white concrete slabs. That got people talking. No one knew who the body belonged to, the face practically tenderised by something. The eyes were gone, plucked from the sockets with just the connecting nerve dangling from the bloodied mess. Though the first body was brutal, this was out of hand. Every limb was broken, bones spearing through the mottled mess of skin. Just two weeks after the first people could connect the two. Police didn’t say a thing when locals asked, they didn’t even try for an excuse. How could you? The last lie didn’t work, and now there was a permanent stain beneath the clocktower. It wasn’t helped by the way they got the body down, or rather they didn’t. One strong gust and splat. Straight against the concrete.
It was up to body number seven now, each one just as brutal as the last. They had been dotted across the town. The first two had been in the square. The next in the market, draped across the support beams, hands and feet tied to keep them in place. The next was in the art gallery — speared upon a statue, the blunt pole jammed through the hip and coming out by the opposite shoulder. The next was face down in the public swimming pool, the entrails drifting out of the body. The next was found a week ago, crucified outside the mayor’s private dwelling. The skin peeled back away from the torso, exposing the lack of organs. The organs which were in the tree chipper beside his gate. Blood had rained from it when they finally turned it back on, the rotting entrails coating everything within fifteen feet.
They haven’t found the seventh one yet. No, body number seven was a surprise.
The brutality of it all should’ve been shocking. A town so small and quiet wasn’t used to this level of horror, they weren’t even used to this level of crime. Petty vandalism and the odd gaggle of drunken teenagers was just about as exciting as it got. But for Merrin it wasn’t a shock at all. He’d seen whoever it was placing the bodies, spending hours at night carefully positioning them in their horrifying positions. They were already bludgeoned before being positioned. Merrin guessed it was easier to get them to stay still after rigour mortis set in.
Whoever it was didn’t care that he was watching from a distance. They would look at Merrin, nod, and disappear again. Each time they wore the same thing: black jeans so tight they may as well of been a second skin; black turtleneck that was just as tight, hugging their thin frame in all the right places; platform boots that made them even taller than they already were; a black deer skull in lieu of a mask, the antlers sharp and tipped with purple paint that shone in the moonlight. Merrin didn’t know why he continued to watch them, or how he kept finding them. Those nights he’d wake up, the need for a cigarette biting at his insides. If he lit one inside the landlord would kill him, and the balcony was overrun with weeds and falling apart. Instead, he’d go outside,not expecting the shadow of a person lurking in the car park.
The first time he thought it strange, the way they stood there, almost waiting for him. They turned to walk away and Merrin, sleep deprived and off his meds, followed. He followed them down the street lit only by the sparse, flickering street lights. Through the park and down towards the square. He was asking to be mugged… or murdered. But he wasn’t. The person approached the fountain, stepping into the water and hoisting something up onto the top. A body. Really, Merrin should’ve run as fast as he could, all the way to the police station. But he stayed. His morbid curiosity kept him watching the person position the body so intricately, like a child playing with their dolls. Once perfect, they stepped back out of the fountain. They turned to Merrin, bowed, and disappeared into the night.
After that, every time he woke up needing a cigarette he went and sat on the back of his beat up car and looked around the car park. He didn’t always see the figure, but when he did he followed without hesitation. Each time they brought him somewhere new; somewhere Merrin had never been after the sun had set.
Last night they went somewhere Merrin never thought he’d go. But they took him there, nevertheless. Through an open window that was fit exactly to Merrin’s size. They had waited for him to climb inside before continuing. They led him into the dark and let him watch as they tied the body up with knots Merrin had never seen before. He’d never been so high up, the metal grating cold against his bare feet.
The way they worked was entrancing. Every little detail was perfect: each finger positioned in a specific way, one by one; the ropes wrapped the exact same on each wrist, their thin fingers pushing the ropes into place; the rope around the body’s neck in just the right position to snap it upon impact; each hair was combed and gelled into place. Merrin didn’t say a word when they worked, content to sit and soak in each intricate detail. When they were done they stood up, walking up to Merrin. They towered over him and Merrin tried to keep his breathing even as they did so. He’d never been this close to them. They smelt like blood and cologne. The scent was tantalising, Merrin just wanted to bottle it up and keep it forever. Whatever cologne it was smelt expensive. He could smell lavender, whiskey, honey and wild flowers. They leant down, looking at Merrin through the eyeholes of the mask. Even in the dark he could see the pale swathe of skin and bright eyes looking at him. They were drinking in Merrin’s features as Merrin was theirs.
A hand came up to rest against Merrin’s cheek, blood smearing on his skin. Merrin melted into the touch, the gentle fingers brushing over him and moving to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Just as quickly as it started, it stopped. They pulled their hand back and stood up straight. Merrin let out a shaky breath to steady himself. The person nodded towards the window, and Merrin took the hint, climbing back out and dropping carefully to the floor. He didn’t wait for them to climb out after. Instead, he took his leave and walked back to his flat.
That morning felt different, he got up to shower like he did most mornings after he watched them. He washed off the dried blood from his cheek and made sure there wasn’t any elsewhere. It was a big day for the town afterall, he wanted to look nice. He even washed his hair. He got out of the shower, making sure to dry his hair with the shitty hair dryer that smelt seconds away from bursting into flames. After, he shaved his face, applying the nice aftershave that he wore to job interviews or first dates. He kept his clothing simple, all black, he didn’t want anything to get stained after all. When the grandfather clock in the living room chimed eleven, Merrin left, locking the door behind him.
The town hall was busy, pretty much everyone was there bar those who were ill or infants. The committee in charge of setting everything up had skipped the chairs, instead they were content with letting people stand. They’d even opened up the top balcony area to allow even more people to stand. Merrin moved through the crowd, finding a pillar to lean against towards the front, at least then people wouldn’t complain about him blocking the view. When he found one, he took his place and waited for the main event.
Today was the day they were finally addressing the bodies. After weeks of asking, the mayor was finally giving in to the demands. Merrin already knew what he would say: they were doing their best to catch whoever was behind these horrific acts. Truth was, they clearly weren’t. They didn’t even know where the bodies were coming from. They weren’t from the town, everyone knew everyone, so it would be obvious if someone went missing. But if they weren’t from here, then where were they from? Merrin didn’t really care about what the Mayor had to say, he was more interested in watching him be humiliated before the whole town.
It was another ten minutes until the Mayor appeared on stage, tapping the mic to silence the crowd. He cleared his throat before speaking.
“Hello, hello,” he said and the crowd fell quiet, “thank you all for being here. I know these past few weeks haven’t been easy, but we’re hoping to shed some light on that today.”
There were a few people yelling from the crowd, an angry chorus of swears demanding him to just get to the point. It was exactly what Merrin was hoping for.
“Alright, alright. I know you all have questions, and I’ll answer those for you. But first, I’d like to start on a more positive note.”
Boring. Merrin tuned out what he was saying in lieu of trying to focus on the new scent that was wafting towards him through the crowd. Lavender. It was probably just a woman’s perfume, it was spring after all, the time when they would switch to something more floral and fresh. He wasn’t complaining, it wasn’t overpowering and was welcome over the stench of sweat. It would explain the wildflowers too. Whatever the Mayor was saying wasn’t going down well with the crowd. But Merrin wanted to focus on the scent: the strong smell of honeyed whiskey, like he’d popped the cork of a brand new bottle of something worth more than a whole year’s rent. Whatever it was was close to him, and was getting closer.
Someone sidled up next to him to lean against the pillar. They were a few inches taller and dressed head-to-toe in expensive clothes. Everything looked tailor-made, clinging to their skin and showing off their lean frame. The jewellery that adorned their pale skin was gold and embedded with diamonds, rubies and emeralds that glinted in the light. He looked at Merrin and smiled, lilac eyes glistening as he did so. Freckles dusted his nose and sharp cheekbones. Merrin smiled back, trying to mask the feeling fluttering inside of him. The man tilted his head towards the stage and Merrin peeled his eyes away from the perfection beside him to look at the Mayor.
He could barely focus on the words the Mayor was saying over the way he could hear his heart pounding.
“We can assure you that we are on top of the situation. As long as I’m in charge no harm will-”
There was a loud creak as the ceiling opened up above the stage. At that moment the body fell, a responding snap echoing through the silent hall as the vertebrae in its neck popped apart, its neck stretching as it did so. Blood showered down over the Mayor and splattered the stage, droplets careening off into the crowd. Everything was silent for a moment. Then the screaming happened. People rushed out of the hall as fast as they could, pushing and shoving to get to the exit first. Merrin stayed where he was, and the man beside him did the same.
