"Why Would You Ever Kiss Me?"

Vincent Really Needs To Understand You Can't Kill People Bcuz Ur Jelly

He was so /obvious/, too. So fucking obvious. How could he be so dumb not to fucking realise it?! There were so many signs, he thought, so many bright red arrows pointing in the direction that he just decided to ignore just like he ignored the red flags that were first waved during his interview with him. 

Rody struggled again, biting his tongue to hold back his shouts of pain as the rope slide across his skin and burnt him again. The pain was unbareable, but he felt stupid just sitting there, doing nothing to try escape. Why didn't he buy the bloody matches? He could've been out of here in no time had he done that; burnt these ropes as well as the dumb fucking building, with Vince inside in it just to tie his revenge up with a sweet little bow. 

Of arson. 

A bow of arson. 

Every creak the freezer made made Rody jump out of his skin; any one of those sounds could be Vince coming in to start sawing up his body to be cooked into fresh meat and served to the next unfortune soul who ended up in the same position as him, as a waiter in this horror-movie bistro. 

Vince would come in, and he'd look down at Rody like mere livestock, forgettable and meaningless, with no use other than to be sliced up into cute little bite sized cubes and comsuned by some unsuspecting person. He would laugh, then, as Rody tried one last time to struggle. 

Then, still laughing, he'd haul Rody up onto the counter, removing his clothes other than his undergarments and lock him down to the table; Vince would do that, of course. He'd be slow with it, wouldn't just kill Rody. He'd make him scream and cry and drink in the pure terror in his victim's eyes. He'd draw on the cut lines, tracing each one with a painfully slow methodical movement, before carrying Rody's trembling body over to- to...to where he must have dragged Manon not too long ago. 

His sweet Manon; his beloved. His only reason to keep on going in his fucked up life. 

And now she was gone, forever. Rody could never talk to her again, never say hi or phone her number or hug her tight and let her know how much she meant to him. Never again; she was gone. 

Vince would turn on the saw, just how he'd done with Manon, and carefully, while voicing his thoughts, select where to saw first. /Hmm... '/ he'd say, /' this cut would be perfect for a roast. Oh, but this one for a pie- oh Oh! But this one- this one for a nice, tasty steak.'/ And he'd make sure Rody knew just what he was doing, showcasing his every movement as he watched the fear fill his eyes and the blood drain from his face as a limb approached the saw. 

And bam! The blade would slice through his body, just as it had with Manon. And Vince would hum a merry tune as he worked, dancing to the melody of Rody's horror wrenched screams like music to his ears, just as he must have with Manon. And then he'd skin and chop and season the limb after stopping the bleeding, right in front of his eyes and then cook it like it was just a piece of $2 steak from Centra. 

Rody felt a warm, salty tear fall from his eye. God, now he was crying, too. Crying for his situation, for himself, but most of all, for Manon. For the woman he loved; the only thing he had left in this world. Now, he didn't even have her locket to rembeber her by. He had seen Vince snatch it up and snap it into a hundred pieces. There wasn't even a keepsake of his beloved left now, just his one picture he had of her in his tiny apartment, a small portrait they had gotten together at Rody's request on their 1 year anniversary. Around 1 month before she let him go so he could /'learn to love himself'/. 

Tears continued to poor down his face as memories of Manon came to him, all of the happy ones; there was their one year anniversary, though actually... Manon had went home immediately after the portrait saying the day just wasn't to her liking. OK, then there was their first date! No wait... Manon had said she didn't really like the restaurant, and Rody untastefully remembered the passive aggressive comments she had made all night. Alright, alright; then... What about...