I walk into the room.
I am not surprised.
They sit there, all three of them, dressed to the nines in their tailor-made suits. Red roses perched in their lapels. Shoes shine and glow with their fresh polish.
I came here under the guise of putting my own house in order, remanding one of my own to the whipping pole.
I see now that they think it is my time to submit.
How very little they understand of me.
“I will not have you all at once.”
I strip one leather glove from my arm, from my hand, one finger at a time. The glove is stiff; it sticks to my skin.
All eyes are on me.
I like it that way.
They turn towards one another.
He gets up. My favorite. His green eyes damning my traitorous heart.
How am I to cope with him?
I close my heart, never batting an eyelash. I cannot allow them to see what I hold inside, who I hold dear.
I take his hand and lead him from the room.
And so it is with them.
Each one taken to a different room.
Each one tied to his own post, protesting the entire way.
Each one blindfolded. Each one trussed.
Each suit cut away from their bodies and set aside. Later these will be burned.
I cannot stay and watch this.
I have children to feed.
Tonight I spare no one.
You can’t scare me.
If you try, those that you call beasts will come, at my request, and feast upon your soul.
Once they are done and gone away, you are still stuck within your meaty casing, subject to my every whim.
Be aware, I studied under the masters. I can keep you alive for a very long time without any hint of skin.
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