What Mr. Sillow had put Amanda through in such a short period of time would surely have altered the psyche of any normal 14-year-old girl. As a direct result of the brute’s negative influence, within the space of less than a year, Amanda had revolted against parental governance; had begun talking to herself aloud, as a madwoman would do; had recklessly allowed her body to be both sexually violated and physically pummeled; and had lost all hope and faith in the deity that her parents had raised her to believe in no matter what she was going through. But perhaps her most deranged act played out when Mr. Sillow at last gave her the order to do away with her father. Mentally intoxicated, she listened. Clinically, young Amanda was a lunatic.
The night of the incident was a memorably cold one. The last bit of leaves that remained on the autumn-stripped trees surrounding the cottage were rustling wildly, and the eerie howling wind was seemingly trying to give Mr. Toffer warning of his imminent demise. But not bothered by nature’s commotion outside, Mr. Toffer found himself sound asleep at around 7:30 p.m. His obtrusive snoring was the cue that Amanda had been waiting on all evening long. The first stab wound that she inflicted upon him was a direct perforation through the chest cavity. The long blade that she had selected for the murder passed easily through what felt like dissolvable breastplate. The implement touched his heart, instantly killing him. The second, third, and fourth puncture wounds were to his abdomen. The fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth stabs were driven into his face. And her final butcherly act was the ear-to-ear slitting of the deceased’s throat. Judging from the extent of her savagery, it was evident that Amanda vehemently resented her father. Even if the murder hadn’t occurred at the behest of Mr. Sillow, the rage with which it was done substantiated that it was going to be carried out at some point or another. The following weekend she was able to tell Mr. Sillow of the successful kill when they rendezvoused at their usual spot in the woods.
“I’m so proud of you Amanda,” Mr. Sillow said upon receiving word of his nemesis’ slaying. “What did you do with the body?”
“I left it on the bed. I’m gonna need you to dispose of it, just as you had done with mom’s body.” And at that, the two sped back to the cottage to collect the remains of the curmudgeon. When Mr. Sillow saw firsthand the degree of Mr. Toffer’s injuries, he couldn’t help picking Amanda up off of the ground, twirling her around, and kissing her profusely. He couldn’t have been any more pleased with the job that she had done. After setting her back down to the ground, he snatched the body of Mr. Toffer up off of the bed, inelegantly toted it outside, and insolently tossed it into the back of his carriage as though the deceased hadn’t been made by the same Creator that had lovingly and mercifully given him life. Then, he headed back inside and engaged in passionate sex with Amanda on the bed sheets bearing the blood of both of her parents before they headed out on their weekly mission.
Less than 15 minutes into their journey to Boston, Mr. Sillow stopped the carriage, got out, and ordered Amanda to step out of the carriage as well. Mr. Sillow then grabbed up Mr. Toffer’s body out of the back of the carriage, and he and Amanda walked over to a nearby manhole. After removing the cover off of the manhole, he said to Amanda: “This sewer system is exactly where this piece of shit belongs.” Then, focusing his attention on the lifeless body that he was holding over the uncovered manhole by the shirt collar with one hand, he enunciated with great pleasure: “Rot in hell,” as he impertinently released his grip on the carcass, sending it plummeting several feet down to its biochemical grave. The couple then commenced their trip to Boston without an ounce of guilt for their reproachable acts resting on either one of their consciences.