The Last Axe

He picked up her severed head and kissed her mouth. He would miss Elizabeth. He felt a thrill as he thought about how the axe had come down, the head lolling to the left, cutting off the tired screams of the woman he had loved for a month. By that time the women just weren’t fun. They were sickly and worn down after a month and he didn’t recognize them anymore. He gave them a bit of arsenic daily because that was the ‘medicine’ he had given his parents, and it saved them.

When the blood stopped dripping he set the head down carefully and prepared his note as he did with all the women he had loved. He would take the body and lean it against a building wall near California Street where someone was sure to find it. The head would be held on the body by a metal bar at the back. Then he would place a note in the space between the severed head and the body. The notes were always the same: Another gift to share with The City. The Axe.

The Axe thought about how he had tenderly made love to all his women. He had enjoyed their struggles…he saw this as their eagerness to please. They eventually would stop struggling and would lie placid and he felt he had finally persuaded them to relax and share some tenderness--he knew they had succumbed to becoming his. Then his mind would go to the axe in the outer area and knew the time was near.

He knew exactly how many women he saved, it was nine, so today’s offering was ten. He had the police completely wrapped around his little finger. In the news’ reports the police said that all the women had been sexually assaulted. They didn’t know what they were talking about. That was such an insult. He would never assault a woman. He loved them.

He would start his hunt for another exquisite woman in a few weeks or so. He wanted to savor his latest gift. He bathed the body and the head to get rid of all the blood. After cleansing the body he lovingly dressed her in a lacey white cotton nightgown and sat her in a chair, balanced the head on the body and took several pictures. He then put the head on the table.

The weight of the head was nine pounds and had to be secured to the body. He was ready to go at three AM. He put the body in the passenger seat of his BMW. As he drove to the Bank of the West on Bush Street he reached into the glove box for his iPad and entered a code disabling all the cameras within a five block radius. He went around the corner to the side of the bank. He got out of the car and put on his memorial clothes: a mask, a hoodie and a large coat--to disguise his height as he crouched down.

It was dark and he looked around. He could barely make out a wino drinking at the entrance of an alley down a couple blocks. He didn’t think anything of it. The Axe turned to his task. He carefully carried and placed the body against the wall. He then placed the note.

No one could see him, only the white gown shown in the moonlight. He got back into his BMW and drove home. He felt lonely and cried for Elizabeth. He missed her already. He would have to begin another hunt sooner than planned.