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“Just close your eyes darlin, it'll be over soon” You looked at him with your wide eyes, lip quivering and tears threatening to spill over. “You asked for this, remember?” He saw you take a few deep breaths and nod your head yes. Another shaky breath and your eyes squeezed shut. ----------------------------------------------- Earlier in the day, you had been driving down the I-10 without a care in the world. Then your car started to stall off just after you took a detour on a back road. You managed to get the your car, off to the side of the road before it stalled completely. Groaning, you turned off the engine and put on your flashers before hopping out of the car to inspect under the hood. You popped open and propped the thing up, hoping it would be obvious what the issue was, but with a hot day like today and your lack of general knowledge about cars it could have been anything. You heard the rumble of another vehicle coming down the road and looked up and seeing a beat up Chevrolet truck come into view. You walked more toward the middle of the road waving your arms hoping to flag the truck down. It rolled to a stop and the driver rolled down his window. The smell that came off of that truck punched you in the gut. It smelled rotten, like spoiled meat. You wondered if you made a mistake in flagging down that truck. The driver then spoke to you. “Havin car trouble?” He asked giving you a boyish smile out the driver's side window. You had to admit this guy did not give a good first impression. With the dirt on his face and the grime on his car and with what appeared to be a dead buck in the back. You looked up and down the street. Upon seeing no other options you swallowed and you answered him. “Uh yeah. Engine started stalling out of nowhere and its not starting.” When he rolled up his window you started to panic, just for him to pull off on the other side of the road and hop out of his truck and walk over to the car. You got a little nervous when he looked under the hood and started poking and prodding at bits of your car. “There's your problem, fan belt's busted.” His voice next to your ear startled you and you looked up at him before looking back to what he was pointing at. There it was, snapped in two threaded in the hood of your car. You picked up the snapped fan belt with disbelief. “You don't happen to have one on you, do you.. uhm..?” He stretched out his hand towards you, a grin plastered on his face. You took the hand and shook it. “It's Lester, Nice to meetcha!” Unfortunately, Lester did not have a fan belt on him. Good news was that Lester had offered you a ride into town and seeing no other option, you took it. You'd scrambled into the beat up truck and started admiring the “charms” made out of bones, feathers, and other trinkets he's collected on the side of the road. You had to admit you were still nervous, but the tension quickly eased with his lighthearted demeanor. Especially when he started singing off key. “We broke a fan belt, broke the fan belt today.” You started cracking up. “Aw come on, you ain't gonna sing with me?” You officially lost it and started singing with him between giggles. After awhile you paused the singing to ask “How much farther until we're there?” He pursed his lips in consideration before answering. “Soon.” After a minute or two of silence you grew uncomfortable and wanted to fill the dead space. So you asked Lester the regular small talk. You asked about his family and learned he had two older brothers, one of which you were being taken to see about the fan belt. When you asked him about his job, he told you he was hired by the county to clean up the roadkill off the highways. You didn't have to ask Lester about why he chose that career path, opportunity for jobs in the country is limited and working for the local government probably was a solid choice. “So do you like your job Lester? I don't know if I could do it...” “Yeah, I actually do. I just feel bad for the animals is all... When they're fresher in the morning, I take them back and butcher them. Why waste the meat? If they've been sitting I take them to the pit and it's kinda sad.” You solemnly nodded in understanding. He went on. “Yeah most of the job ain't too bad....You know what I really hate, though?” You looked at him eyebrow raised. “What?” “Finding an animal that’s dyin’ – they look at you, in so much pain – their glazed eyes beggin’ you to put them out of their misery… So I just do it.” You swallowed thickly before glancing at Lester. His gaze was fixed on the road at this point. You gained the courage to ask again, “What?” Lester glanced at you before fixing his gaze back on the road, “Slit their throat.” There was a long pause after that. The silence was deafening save for the charms in the truck cab clanging against the window occasionally. Both you and Lester couldn't stand the tension in the car though and he started telling a story about the time a snapping turtle almost got his finger when he was trying to help it cross the road. When you finally pulled up to the gas station in that small town, Ambrose, you gathered from the welcome sign, you were almost sad to be parted. The gas station owner, Lester's brother Bo, was nice enough but there was something about him that gave you the creeps. It was funny, Lester looked creepy but was a sweet and funny guy upon getting to know him, and Bo was handsome but something about him made your anxiety spike. You had half a mind to beg Lester to stay with you, until you got your fan belt and have him drive you back instead of Bo. But you didn't do that, and later, both you and Lester would regret that decision. ---------------------------------------------- The next time you would see Lester was under much, much worse circumstances. That gut feeling you had about Bo? It was true. The second your back was turned he smashed you over the head with a wrench. The shock or the adrenaline must have hit your system, because instead of going down, you shoved him over and ran. You could feel the blood soaking the back of your head, but you ran and ran. You thought about running into the church and hiding, but even with your head swimming and heart pounding, something instinct called it out as a bad idea. Visions ran through your head, being cornered and caught by Bo. It wasn't something you could let happen. Your body moved before your mind could catch up. Its new direction lead you into the woods beyond the church and the cemetery. You had stopped hearing Bo once you entered the woods, so it felt safe. Safer than the town anyways. Thinking you had lost him, you allowed yourself to breathe a little, taking in the scenery. It was already late afternoon when Lester had taken you into town earlier and now the sun was setting behind the trees. The woods roared to life with sound, bugs buzzing, mourning doves cooing, and frogs croaking. It was serene, almost peaceful. You could feel yourself falling into a daze... Only to be snapped out of it by your throbbing head. Raising a hand to the back of your head, you felt your hair matted and soaked with still wet blood. Tentatively prodding your scalp, it felt wrong... Your stomach turned and you yanked your hand out of your hair. When it still seemed like Bo wasn't hunting you, something felt wrong. After all you'd seen, it seemed weird for him to be halfhearted. You kept walking. Mind other places and sun sinking beneath the skyline, you never saw it coming.
SNAP
You heard it before you felt it, the clanging of metal and the thunk of it hitting flesh, your flesh. You were in such a shock for a few minutes you didn't do anything, just frozen. Then the pain set in, the pressure of the metal on your shin and the pain was unreal. You knew why Bo didn't follow you in now. Breathing heavily you looked down at your leg. It was hard to see much in this time of the day, but you saw a rusted bear trap biting into your flesh. You had to get out of it. These traps always had a release on them, you just had to find it. Feeling along the rusted metal, you found what you were looking for, two springs. Pushing them down at the same time, you opened the trap and yanked your leg out. Metal clanged as it snapped shut once again, without anything in the way. You tested your weight on the leg. It was excruciating. The trap may not have cut into you but it definitely broke something in your leg. In your pain filled delirium, you almost missed it. The sound of a car on a road. Your head snapped in that direction and you carefully, carefully limped towards where you heard the sound. It took a long time with your injured leg and slow moving due to not wanting to step in anymore traps but you made it. Empty stretch of road and a clear night sky. Question was what to do. Even though you heard a vehicle earlier, you hadn't seen nor heard one since. You also knew you were miles from another town at this point and with your leg and still bleeding head wound, you couldn't make it far. It was a gamble at this point. Would help come first or would those brothers track you down? It was feeling hopeless, especially when an all too familiar truck pulled up beside you. Lester put the truck in park and hopped out. “G-gonna turn me in?” Your voice came out much weaker than you intended. “'Fraid so darlin'.” He looked genuinely remorseful. Grim expression on his face and hands clenched at his sides. Lester looked you up and down, noticing how you had all your weight on one leg and how your leg was swelling. “I'm real sorry. Shoulda stayed with ya.” He said it so soft you thought you had misheard him. One look in his eyes told you he was being genuine. “Would that have changed anything?” “Might have,” he mumbled out, dropping his head to the ground. It was like he couldn't even look at you. You who was a stranger and yet Lester knew your fate when he dropped you off, why did he act like he cared? Isn't this what he intended to happen? You wanted to be angry, you wanted to fight. But you just felt tired, resigned to your fate. Today was the day you were meant to die it seemed. There was no use resisting that at this point. Your mom always said “accept the things that cannot change”, there was no changing that you would die, but you had a choice in what killed you. “Lester,” he snapped his head back up at you, looking startled. You continued, “Lester, kill me...Please...” He studied your face, staring intently. “It don't have to be that way... Bo may keep you. You're a real looker after all.” You gave Lester a disgusted look. You didn't want to be kept, living like a pet or a thing wasn't a way you wanted to live at all. You saw the knives in his truck, the strap on his thigh. “If you won't do it give me the knife. I'll kill myself instead.” Lester stared at you, mouth agape. This time he saw it. The glazed over empty eyes off the animals he'd seen before putting them out of their misery. He hoped you missed the way his lip quivered when he answered you, “Ok. I'll do it.” You had both stood there for a couple of minutes whilst Lester thought of how he would take your life. Lester helped you onto the bed of the pickup truck. He had you lay down in the bed of the truck, your head in his lap as he sat behind you. He said he wanted to give you a more comfortable death than lying on the side of the road. This position was intimate. Made you wonder what it could've been like if you guys had met in other circumstances. “Tip your head back, bare your throat for me.” You did as you were told. When you decided this minutes ago, you thought you were ready to die ready to face what happens after, if anything. But with your death now approaching you were fearful. Lester brushed some of the hair out of the way, noticing you flinch at the touched. You looked at him with wet eyes and made a hushed confession, “I'm scared.” He took a deep breath. “Just close your eyes darlin, it'll be over soon” You looked at him with your wide eyes, lip quivering and tears threatening to spill over. “You asked for this, remember?” He saw you take a few deep breaths and nod your head yes. Another shaky breath and your eyes squeezed shut. Lester pulled out the bowie knife he had strapped to his thigh, he looked down at you, eyes still clamped shut with tears leaking out and body tensed. He gripped the knife steadily in his hands and the sensation was all to familiar. Lester brought the knife up to your neck. “Don't be afraid... I'll be here with you,” he reassured you. “Take some deep breaths.” Lester watched your chest rise and fall a few times. When you relaxed and took a big breath out, that is when he took the time to swiftly drag the knife across your throat making a cut fast and deep. Blood erupted from the wound, spurting out from the sides of your neck in time with your heart. Your eyes were open, staring into his. You tried to speak, but he just heard wheezing through your injured trachea. Lester dropped the knife and held one of your hands before speaking softly, “Don't talk. Don't fight. I'll be here.” Your eyes fluttered shut. Lester closed his eyes too, listening to the sounds on the side of the road. No cars could be heard, only the insects and other critters in the distance along with your own faint and fading breathing. Warm blood was drenching his lower half and he felt the spurts on his hand. A mercy kill was always messy business. Lester cracked his eyes open to see the moon out now, he didn't know how long he sat, warm hand clutching your cold one. You had passed by now, body cold and bloodless, looking like you were just sleeping aside from the deep cut in your neck. Lester gently let go of your hand, and shimmied out from under you head. He stripped off his flannel and laid it over your face. Lester looked up to the full moon, the only witness aside from himself on what happened. A heavy feeling burdened his heart. This was unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. There should be this sort of reverence when killing a human being and not just another animal. He hopped out of the bed of his truck. ---------------------------------------------- Lester came out to see you again. The weather was perfect, a beautiful sunny fall day in early October with the high being 75°. With the weather being so ideal, he wanted to go out and have a picnic with you. Lester brought out a simple picnic basket. Just enough food and a couple of cold beers. No cooler was necessary, you were always close to him. Lester exited his cabin and made the hike into the woods. Lester knew that night that he couldn't give you to his brothers. When he thought of having to see the cold, unmoving corpse, perfectly preserved in wax, it made him nauseous. Lester knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he turned you in. He'd always tried his best to stay out of his brothers' grim business but it was getting harder. Until now, Lester didn't have anyone's blood on his hands and this experience only cemented in him that he would never have another except for you. That night when he climbed back into the cab of the truck, he drove home, your corpse rustling around in the back. Lester spent all night crafting you a coffin made from scraps of wood from other projects. He spent the morning washing the blood off your skin with rags and sloppily sewing the neck shut. Lester carefully loaded you, the coffin, and some tools into the truck and put it in all wheel drive. He already knew the perfect spot for you. In the present, he'd already made the mile trek out to your grave sight. It was a clearing in the wood, just about a mile into his property. The clearing was soft and grassy scattered with a lone, towering witch hazel in the middle of it. Back then, it hadn't been flowering but this time of year, it started erupting with slender bright yellow petals against the autumnal landscape. Lester buried you underneath the tree that day. Several months out now from the heat of the summer, the fresh dirt had already filled in with native grass and wildflowers. The only reminder that you were here was the simple epitaph carved into the bark with your name. Lester sat beneath the tree, leaning his back onto the bark and breathing deeply, inhaling the mildly spicy fragrance. He pulled the beers out of his picnic basket and popped the tops. Lester took a swig of his savoring the bitterness of the hops. He took the second beer and poured it out onto the earth, watching it slowly drain into the soil. “Hope you like it darlin'.” Lester closed his eyes and took another deep breath and just for a second, he swore he could feel your arms around him.