My back was aching from the effort of dismembering the body and my ribs and arm were still sore from the beating I had taken the night before, but I was fairly sure by then that nothing was broken and I’d be able to heal without a trip to the doctor.
Things were definitely looking up.
After a half-hour break and a couple of beers, I dove back into my work with renewed gusto. I hacked through the head with a pruning saw, scooped out Jackie’s brains and flushed them, too. I then got to work cutting up all the bones as small as possible. The bolt cutter saved lots of time and worked wonders on everything from fingers and toes to the forearm and some of the spine, but I had to saw through everything else and it took a while.
I used the pliers to pull her teeth and flushed them down the toilet. The channel locks were also useful for breaking up the skull along suture joints, so that it was eventually just a bunch of bone chips.
By 9 p.m. I had it licked. I randomly put the pile of bone pieces into a couple dozen trash bags, being careful to keep them very light, maybe only a pound or two each. I then double-bagged the lot and put them into two cardboard boxes. Tomorrow they would be at the bottom of Lake St. Clair. The pile of flesh was divided into quart- and gallon-sized freezer bags, most of which I dropped into the chest freezer that had been left in the basement by previous tenants.
After that I cleaned the bathroom thoroughly, but was surprised by how little blood I had got on anything outside the tub. Even if the cops eventually searched the place, it would be hard to detect anything out of the ordinary without a shit-load of equipment. I then swept up the glass from the living room floor, put my books back on shelves and made sure that there were no tell-tale Jackie fingerprints by wiping down everything that she could possibly have touched.
The remainder of the flesh was put in my refrigerator while I read the manual for that food dehydrator. You see I had made up my mind from the beginning that this wasn’t just my fault. No way. Jackie was at least as much responsible as I was, if not more. Did I come looking for her? No. Did I attack her with a bat? Fuck no. So I was determined that she should share in my guilt and my punishment. In order to do that, she had to be a part of me. I would make her that...a part of me. Jackie and I would become one.
I would eat her.#