The Altimore Secrets by Biriyani Bose at Inkitt
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The Altimore Secrets

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Summary

It is the work of Maxwell's Detective Agency to solve every gruesome crime in the Leprechaun City. Marie Tolucan, Maxwell's most prized detective, is met with a series of cannibalistic murders driven with no motive, she is left gasping for air. Dealing with life after menopause, her troublesome niece, and a series of work by an upcoming serial killer, how will she do? Will she lose her sanity which she has under her control after a lot of struggle? Furthermore, does she have any secrets of her own?

Status
9yrs ago
Chapters
3
Rating
n/a
Age Rating
16+

Prologue

“Yes, I do have remorse, but I’m not even sure myself whether it is as profound as it should be. I’ve always wondered myself why I don’t feel more remorse.” - Jeffrey Dahmer

I severed his head from the torso. Blood dripped and trickled down my arms. The sight of something red and the smell of something metallic made my senses come back to life. Without it, I don’t feel like a well-functioning human being. Or rather, a killer.

One...two...three...four...and after five swift movement of the axe, the head finally came undone. I held it up to look inside.

A complex network of blood vessels and mangled flesh, a little jelly-like. I took the head in-between my palm and gently rocked it. Definitely jelly. Not being able to control my excitement I decided to stick my finger in it.

The head was going to boil in a few minutes anyway.

My fingers felt warm and it felt like having your finger dipped in lukewarm agar-agar solution. Oddly satisfying. I took out the finger and smelled it. Metallic and meaty.

The pot was boiling and I tossed the head into it. I didn’t want to tarry my schedule. Already, I was running a little late.

Lifting my hands, I brought it down and chopped off the right arm. Then, the left arm. The legs were undone from when I had killed him. This man, in front of me, died of terror. Not much of a man if thought carefully.

I always admired the works of Jeffrey Dahmer and my favourite song was Katy Perry’s, Dark Horse. It was a little cannibalistic, but so am I.

As the house filled with the smell of burning flesh, I dragged the two legs into the bathroom. The bathtub was already filled with hydrogen peroxide and vinegar - two very common house cleaning products which when mixed forms peracetic. A highly corrosive substance.

I let it soak while I went back to bring the arms. The torso would have to be done later, I sighed. This is great disappointment to my routine.

I peered into the pot, the head wasn’t even distinguishable except for the hair. It was taking a little while to boil. Would hair taste good with my soup? But I did have body hair before: when I was eating my men.

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