Chapter 2: Cuts

James had just finished toweling himself off and cleaning up after last nights exploits. It was a very familiar dream, he'd had it every night for the past week. He was sure he knew the woman from his dreams but he couldn't pin exactly where. Which was strange as he always prided himself on his impeccable memory. He certainly hadn't met her directly otherwise he'd remember her name.

He walked over to the wash basket and dumped his towel in there. Naked he walked back into his bedroom and slipped on a pair of stonewashed jeans and some work boots. After he'd tied up his boots he walked over to the window and let his bare chest feel the warmth of the sunlight that spilled through the purposefully made crack. He chest was almost carved out of marble would have been well suited in the British Museum between Ares and Apollo.

He leaned forward to the crack and peered through. Out onto his nice green front garden, near the garden gate several sun flowers bloomed and were facing the sun with their petals tree in his front garden blocked some of his view. However it only block the dead-end. He lived in a cul-de-sac a once very nice street, everyone who had lived here were professionals who worked in the city. Three of them numbered in his patient list.

There in the middle of the road, lying on his back though he were drunk, was Mr. Kent. He was in his usual suit. A navy blue suit with a matching waist coat, the waist coat barely managed to contain his large belly underneath. James would usually catch Mr. Kent trying to heave his large frame into his jaguar each morning. A lot of the time James could use Mr. & Mrs. Kent's arguments as an alarm clock in the morning. They may have lived in detached houses but when Mr. Kent got angry most of the street must have heard his shouts and accusations. Mrs. Kent was a slight creature and James barely saw her.

Mr. Kent would have to be dealt with. Leaning back James walked over to his bedside table and picked up the hand mirror there. He slicked his hair back how he liked it, then opening on of the drawers he removed some hair clay and ran it through his hair so it would retain it's shape. Then afterwards he pulled a white t-shirt from his cupboard and then left and headed downstairs.

The downstairs area was still neat as it was before. The kitchen was a cavalcade of technology. The latest cooker, fridge and microwave. The marble surfaces were kept immaculate at all times. The fridge was stocked well with food, as was the freezer. He went into the fridge and grabbed a carton of orange juice and drank directly from it.

The living room was much the same, a large HD television was bracketed to the wall and was unused a lot of the time even before the outbreak. The sofa was clean and sat well on top of the natural oak floor.

Replacing his orange juice he turned with a smile he headed to the latch door in the corner of the kitchen. He opened it up and there were the stairs leading down to the basement. He flicked on the light switch and trotted down the stairs humming to himself. He ran his hand through his hair making sure it was neat and staying in place. He reached the bottom of the stairs and then opened the door tentatively to reveal another door, he then entered that one. It was like entering an airlock to his lair. Then as soon as he opened the door he was hit by the grinding of the generator. It whirred away keeping his house alive like a heat forever beating. He'd managed to stockpile a good amount of petrol and he wouldn't need to go looking for more for at least another month.

Apart from the door he'd entered through there was another on the opposite side, leading to a room which was situated under his back garden. This room was also sound proofed as well so he at least wasn't disturbed by the sound of the generator while he needed alone time.

In the room there was a work bench on one side. With all manner of tools ranging from a surgeons precise scalpel to a builders jigsaw. Next to the bench sat the generator giving out it's low purring. Opposite the workbench was a bathtub. It wasn't connected to the water but merely had one pipe leading out into the sewers. There was a weird reddish mixture contained in the tub currently and next to it were caskets of very strong hydrochloric acid.

There was also a small shower on the same wall as the bath but a good distance away. There was also a coat rack and self next to the door into the next room. Where white coats, surgical gloves and various coverings were stored to protect him from getting infected.

He moved over to the bath tube and pulled out the plug with the plunger button on the side. It meant he could operate the plug without sticking his hand in the bath. Then with a smile he walked over to the other door and walked into the next room.

The room was covered in blood it had splashed up over all the surfaces. James smiled admiring he's own handy work. The room had no furniture save one operating table in the centre. A young woman was strapped to it naked. James had had some fun with her last night. She was odd for a rage infected woman, she had just seemed to accept what was happening after a while. Docile but still conscious as James liked them.

The woman on the table had once been quite pretty he hair was blonde and James presumed her eyes were blue once. He could no longer tell. Over her body were lots of cuts ranging from paper cuts to full on gashes. He had applied all of them with such delicacy and reveling in every cut. He moved forward and inspected her body closer. He'd slashed open her mouth with a razor blade giving her a perfect Glasgow smile. That had been good. He scanned his eyes down and saw the massive gash he'd given her with a stanley knife from her groin all the way down to her knee. That had been his ecstasy that had finished him and he'd had to go next door and clean off.

He smiled turned and went back to the other room. He put on his protective gear and set to disposing of the body in the bathtub. When he was finished he stripped off and washed himself with disinfected in the shower. Once done he sorted out his hair to look the same again and got into his clean clothes again. They'd be fine he'd made sure they were well covered.

Time deal with Mister Kent!