Her eyes were blank. Glassed over. Fear and pain had been the last thing they had expressed. Now, nothing resided within. Her throat had bruised where his hands had created her fate. Motionless on the bed, her body sat as an altar of lies. Lies that he had spun and she had become entangled in. He said she was special. He said he could show her a time she'd never forget. The latter was true, for how could the dead forget?
Lucas walked into the room, smirking at his handy work. She had been so easy. Women like her often were. Lucas tried to recollect her name, but it was so inconsequential that he could not find it within the recesses of his mind, but maybe that was the drugs. He didn't care, he got what he wanted. He had asserted himself on someone undeserving of the life they had been given. She died looking into his eyes, and that alone got him off. Now somewhat cleaned up, it was time to tidy the whole place up.
The yacht Lucas used was one he had bought with his Father's inheritance. It was not big, but it served his purpose well. Impress the ladies, and also get him far enough from shore that no one would be around to care. The small bay was a part of a private cliffside residential community, and these old fucks didn't stay out past eleven. The perks of being who he was. But, he was not a man afraid of putting in work to get what he wanted. Get his hands dirty. Break a sweat.
Lucas dragged her body out to the deck of his yacht, and laid her onto some tarp. The yacht softly ebbed in the gentle waves, and Lucas had turned off most of the deck lights, just to be safe. He stumbled as he headed to the back of the yacht, the drugs still affecting him a bit. He took a bucketful of fish guts and spooned some into the ocean. He'd always chum the water, draw in the sharks. Their fins visible now, darting back and forth in the dark night water. The only light he had on shimmered off their midnight skin, showing him they had come, as they always had. He could find solace with the sharks. They operated the same. Fierce, vicious, and an apex. They could smell blood from so far away, and find it. Kill it. He could relate, he thought. Yes, they were the same. Sharks seeking their prey. He turned back to the girl whose name still alluded him.
Lucas wrapped chains around her legs. He stopped and shook his head, the glaze of the drugs still coating his thoughts. He finished securing enough weight to drag her down, and then he reached to his belt. He fingered around, searching for the hilt of the knife he had on him. It found his grasp, and then he went to work, slicing and stabbing the corpse, leaving bloody wounds all over the body. Once he felt he had done enough, he scooped up the girl. His knees buckled from the extra weight, and he staggered back and forth. He managed to shuffle to the back of the yacht and toss her body into the cloud of chum that filled the dark water.
He leaned back and reached for a cigarette in his pocket. He jerked back as his fingers hit some liquid. Blood. That girls blood. Clumsy. He must have had more trouble than he thought. Needed to lay off the drugs until the job was really done next time. He'd remember. He was sure of it. Wiping his hand on his pants, all of which would be burned when he got back to shore, he found his cigarette pack and got his smoke. The sharks were in a frenzy now. He could not see, but only imagine the carnage that was happening beneath the surface. They worked together well. He smiled and took a long drag. He went for another, but a strange sound caught his attention. The sounds of water dripping. On the deck. He tilted his head to be sure he was hearing it. Now positive he whipped around to behold the grotesque forms crawling from the sea onto his yacht.
Women. Mangled, maimed, and bloody. Organs hanging out or just completely missing. Gaping holes adorning their bodies, semi-circular chunks missing from every limb. They slowly climbed over the rails and onto the deck, all eyes locked upon Lucas. There were six walking women corpses, drenched from the ocean and leaking their innards upon his yacht. Then he knew. He knew these phantoms. They were the women he had killed, those who had kept the sharks bellies full. Front and center was the woman he had just disposed of. Or so he had thought. He waved his knife at them as they all encroached upon him
"You’re all dead! You’re all fucking dead! I killed you! I killed you all! The sharks! They took you and I'll have them take you again!" He screamed as he stayed in a steady retreat. The corpses had not stopped moving toward him.
"You were all worthless! And you got what you deserve..." The last word was cut off as Lucas hit his heel on the edge of the yacht. His weight shifted, and with his head still spinning, he was lost overboard. The water greeted him with a cold embrace, shaking away the haze he had been in. He thrashed about, and made it back to the surface. His victims peered at him from the back of his yacht.
"Fucking bitches! You are...going to...pay!" He shouted through gasps of air and gulps of salty water. He went to swim to the ladder on the side of the yacht, when a hard tug pulled him a bit back. For a moment he was unsure of what happened. Then the pain surged through his leg. As he screamed in agony, he could see the dorsal fin just a few feet from him, slowly descending beneath the surface. Another hard hit to his torso. Blood burst from his mouth as he wailed and tried to keep afloat. His leg didn’t work anymore, he couldn’t kick. He looked back to the yacht, and the women stood absolutely still, pillars of gore observing his demise. He tried to speak again, but he could not. Movement. He caught it with the corner of his eye. The fin was coming straight at him, ascending from the water. The shark broke the surface, and Lucas could faintly see its eye as it approached. He knew then they did not understand each other. The jaws opened and struck around his armpit, the force of the bite also catching Lucas in the mouth, tearing his lower jaw completely off. The shark shook once, sinking its teeth in deeper, and Lucas knew nothing more. His body was pulled under, and the other sharks in the water came in to gather what scraps they could.
The frenzy continued for quite some time. The sharks fed and waited, but no more food came. All that was left was an empty yacht, rocking quietly on the waves.
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