I gave Michael a slow death. First, I picked his teeth, I hated them, they were always brighter than our future together. I loathed his perfect face too; those happy brown eyes, the thick well-trimmed eyebrows, the tight jawline, and the double chin. It was a handsome face, but even with his teeth out, his dimples kept smiling at me. I put down the pliers and picked up the pocketknife, with the precision of a sculptor I curved his dimples out. He screamed, my body shivered, and the inside of my pants developed an exciting moisture. I then licked the blood off my pretty tool. Its black handle glistened in my right hand, smudged red.
“Your beauty is mine to take baby,” I whispered in his ear, cutting it off.
I needed another facial part for dinner, I pondered on what was tastier, the tongue, or the eyes. I had tasted his tongue before, and it had tasted parts of me. It had given me inexplicable pleasure. I loved his tongue. It was perhaps the only part of his body I did not loathe. I decided I would frame it and it would take a permanent place on my bedside table.
The sound of my phone buzzing interrupted the proceedings. I squeezed his limp hand, holding it up and laying it beside the rest of him. I wiped my hands over my apron then picked up the phone.
“Hey Tesi,” Keturah greeted me. “I want to bring James along for dinner, I wonder if it’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, sure, the more the merrier.”
I’d intended to prepare a meal for two, but James was more than welcome. His presence meant a greater thrill for me. I would get to cut him into pieces as Keturah watched.
James was the spatula that stirred the affair between Keturah and Micheal. In fact, he had encouraged me to let Keturah move in with me and Michael long after they had started bedding each other. He had played me for a fool; I was hoping to return the favour tenfold.
“Okay then, see you tonight,” Keturah ended the call.
***
I took my time; it was only a few hours until dinner but there was a lot of unfinished business in the garage. Michael was easing into himself, bleeding out. His heart was still beating but most of him was gone, and parts of him were slow cooking in the oven. It was going to be a memorable dinner, my first dinner party since moving into my childhood home. Mum and dad would be proud.
Sitting on the steps by the garage door leading into the kitchen, I looked over at my beloved. I had surprised myself. Growing up, my favourite parts of the human body were the eyes and mum always spiced them especially for me, but I had stayed away from Michael’s eyes. They were a charm. For three years I had been in a trance, and I was blind to his unfaithfulness, but now I was free from his spell.
At exactly 7.20 pm my guests arrived. Keturah wore a red jumpsuit, the colour a perfect representation of our relationship and the night ahead — blood would be spilled, buckets of it. James wore a blue t-shirt over black jeans. I was clad in a white dress, gold earrings, gold bracelets, and a gold necklace.
“So glad to have you here,” I directed James and Keturah to the dining table.
“It has been a while!” James said. His mouth formed into a half-smile, mocking me.
“You look beautiful dear,” said Keturah.
“Thank you,” I smiled.
We talked about work and my childhood, although the stories I told were a censored version of the truth. There was no need to get into the details of my rather callous family history.
“Where’s Michael?” James asked, “I’m surprised he’s not here.”
I was hoping Keturah would be the one to ask after Micheal, but obviously, she couldn’t bring herself to mention his name in my presence.
“We are having Michael for dinner,” I said.
“Unha?” Keturah exclaimed, James sniggered, and they burst out laughing.
I wasn’t amused. “We are having Michael for dinner,” I said.
Keturah stopped chewing, James squinted at me, trying to determine whether it was a bad joke, or I was actually serious. I sighed, then dug up a finger from the chunk of meat in my bowl and sucked at it. Keturah spat out the contents of her mouth and James gaped. Alarmed and shaking, James stood up and Keturah followed.
“Where do you think you are going, dinner is not done?” I asked.
“I don’t know what kind of sick games you are playing but we are out of here,” James barked.
I pulled out a gun from under the table and placed it next to my meat bowl.
“Sit down,” I said. Shaking, they took their seats.
“Today is a good day,” I smiled, “you know why?”
James glared at me, a mixture of contempt and fear on his face, while a river of tears flowed down Keturah’s eyes. Neither of them said a word, more or less what I expected, so I carried on.
“A while ago, as I cut Michael into pieces, I promised him that I would give you a slow death too. Who would like to go first?”