Chapter 29

The Whisperer knew that in 15 minutes he was going to do his perfunctory duty and tell the young girls downstairs how much time they had left before their sinful lives ended. This was one of the things he cherished about his work, it made him feel more alive when he went down the stairs and whispered those sacred lines. His analytical mind working constantly to ensure that his work would be completed as his God would want. Nothing was going to stop him. The interference from his protégé was disturbing enough, that he had to figure out if it was worth keeping her or not. He would pray later for the answer to that question but for now he had to dress for his duty.

The Whisperer gracefully undressed from his day job and hastily put on the coveralls, ski mask and leather gloves that were his uniform for the Godly work he performed. As he did up the zipper up of his coveralls, he looked at the boots that were to be next. As he did up the laces on his left boot he noticed a single hair. The Whisperer looked at the hair intertwined with the laces and with his right forefinger and thumb gently persuaded it out of the lace. He wadded it up and when he was finished with the fine mass, he tossed it in the white garbage bag that was sitting in between the chair and the counter.

“Interesting.” the Whisperer spoke. Then he continued to dress for his duty. As he opened the basement door, he started to whisper the passage that had made his victims scream with fear.

As he got closer to the spot where he held the women he whispered a little louder so they could hear him. The women started to plead like they normally did, and as the Whisperer told them their fate they would sob and cry for their mothers. This gave the Whisperer some joy; knowing that he was inflicting this much fear and torture made him warm inside. As he grabbed both women by their hair, he tugged them out of their places and brought them upstairs. He threw them onto the floor in the torture room and closed the door to their holding cell. He reached over to the counter and grabbed the syringe that was waiting for him on the counter and plunged it into Dianna’s neck. He hauled Tracey up and onto the table. He strapped her onto it and then turned it so it was upright. He shoved Tracey back into the razors that were protruding out so she would scream as her back drove into them. The Whisperer smiled under his mask as he pulled the straps tighter and heard her yell out again in pain. As he grabbed the clippers to shave off her hair he looked Tracey deep in the eyes. He saw the fear that he craved, her tears made him smile a bit wider. He started the clippers and Tracey jumped. The Whisperer started to shave off her hair front to back. Tracey felt the hair leave her head and she felt more scared than she had down in whatever hole she had been in before. She tried to speak but every time she opened her mouth a clump of hair would find its way in and she tried to spit it out. The words she wanted to speak would not form. So she cried. She cried at first in silence, trying not to give the person who had dragged her up the stairs any more motive for what she assumed would be her death. Until now. She screamed at the top of her lungs when the sharp things drove into her back, and now as she cried she screamed at the person “WHY?!” She continued to scream the three letter word to no avail. The person didn’t stop shaving her head until all the hair on her head was gone.

The Whisperer placed the clippers back on the counter, and then slowly moved to the back of Tracey. He methodically looked at her in the mirror in front of them, and told Tracey to open her eyes. When she saw that she had no hair she started to shake uncontrollably. The Whisperer took his left hand and caressed the top of her head with his gloved hand and then whispered in Tracey’s ear

“Do you repent?”

Tracey didn’t answer at once; she thought she was still yelling “Why?” The Whisperer spoke again asking the same question.

“Do you repent?”

“FOR WHAT?” Tracey screamed at the top of her lungs

“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS? WHAT HAVE I EVER DONE TO DESERVE THIS!” Tracey kept screaming over and over again

The Whisperer let her scream. He knew that eventually she would go hoarse and not be able to yell at all. As he waited for her to stop he took out his knives and touched each of them with a lover’s caress. These were special. These were some of the first blades he had ever owned. The last knife he took out was his favorite. It was the first blade he had ever owned legitimately, he bought it with the money he earned from mowing lawns when he was 10. This was the knife that he used when he cut open the neighbors cat to see what it was made of. The Whisperer hadn’t known that there was going to be as much blood as there was so he had to sneak into his house up to his room to change his clothes and take the bloodied ones back to where the cat was. He dug a hole that was more than three feet deep and buried his first experiment along with the clothes that had been ruined.

The Whisperer turned with a start and realized that the room was now silent.

“Do you know why I like these?” the Whisperer asked Tracey.

She shook her head.

“I like them because they have no feelings. They don’t whimper and whine that they don’t like something. They demand nothing from me, and they are like absolute magic in my hands.” The Whisperer went and caressed the knives again. “Do you want to see what they can do?”

Tracey shook her head again, but the Whisperer wasn’t looking. He was fascinated by his knives. He showed Tracey the very first knife he had ever owned and with a precise and clean movement; Tracey had just lost her bowels.

“Did you feel that my dear?” the Whisperer taunted Tracey.

Again she shook her head.

“Open your eyes and see the magic I have performed here.”

When Tracey didn’t open her eyes, the Whisperer grew impatient.

“OPEN THEM!’ the Whisperer demanded.

Again Tracey just couldn’t do as she was being told to do.

“IF YOU DON’T OPEN THEM I WILL CUT YOUR EYELIDS OFF SO YOU NO LONGER HAVE THE CHOICE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

Tracey nodded her head and slowly opened her eyes, when she looked in the mirror in front of her she saw what had been done to her and started to scream again. She started to move around and with every movement more of her innards came out, and the more she moved she felt the things in her back pierce deeper than before.

“You are going to kill me!” Tracey whispered in between sobs. “But why?”

The Whisperer looked at Tracey and she could see his eyes start to sparkle.

“Because you have sinned, and the Lord above has tasked me with killing all of you who have sinned against Him in the manner you have.” The Whisperer looked once more at Tracey and with a quick motion Tracey Brooks was dead.

The Whisperer looked at his latest kill with mourning in his eyes.

“I didn’t want to do it this way, but you were prolonging things and there is no prolonging the good Lord’s work.”

The Whisperer placed the table back in the horizontal position, and unstrapped Tracey. Once all the blood stopped running out of her it would be Dianna’s turn to repent.

As the Whisperer moved Tracey off the table, Dianna started to wake up.

“Good, it is going to be your turn soon.” The Whisperer said to Dianna as he cleaned up.