She's a Man-Eater

4. Head of a Faun

Jesse and Oliver dropped the body onto the table with a loud thud. Oliver stared down at the wound on the man's neck in a daze.

"Thank you," Jesse said, rolling up her sleeves. She was calm, this was all going relatively according to plan.

Her voice broke Oliver from his trance. He looked up at her with frightful eyes. "What are we going to do?"

Jesse gestured to the saw, "Cut him up." She said it in a mundane tone, as if it were obvious.

Oliver shook his head feverishly, "No. No way. We can't cut him up." He turned to the door to leave, but Jesse firmly grabbed his wrist.

"I need your help, Oliver. This will be much easier with two people." Oliver looked over his shoulder and met her gaze.

"What are you going to do to me if I don't help you?"

Jesse let go of his wrist and tilted her head slightly, "Do you think I'm going to hurt you? Why would I do that?"

"Because you killed someone!" He shouted. "You killed someone, Jesse, am I supposed to assume you wouldn't kill me too?"

"I would've thought as much," She casually sat on the end of the table. "I wouldn't hurt you, Oliver."

Oliver took a shaky breath, "Then why did you kill that man?"

"He was a rapist. I told you, didn't I?"

"He tried to rape you?" Jesse didn't answer. Oliver paced around the shed.

"Are you going to help me or not?"

Oliver leaned against the wall and slumped to the floor, burying his face in his hands. He weaved his fingers through his curls and held his hands on his head.

Between hasty breaths, he asked, "What were you thinking?"

Jesse tilted her head and tapped her front teeth, "You're certainly asking a lot of questions. That's unusual for you, don't you think?"

Oliver shot up from his spot on the floor, his terrified expression replaced with one of anger, "Unusual? Don't you think killing someone is unusual?" After his short outburst, he shrunk back into his place on the floor. His anger seemed to dissipate just as quickly as it appeared.

"Think about this practically, Oliver," Jesse said flatly, "A rapist is dead, and the world is better off for it. I could understand your anger if it was an innocent person, but it wasn't." She placed her hands on the edge of the stool and leaned forward, trying to gauge Oliver's reaction.

He was facing her now, but his eyes were focused on the table behind her. He chewed his lower lip and folded his hands together. "You think this is a good thing?"

"Do you think it's a bad thing?"

Oliver's eyes darted between Jesse's and the body on the table, before finally resting on hers. He clutched his chest, as if to slow his breathing. "It could have been worse," he said, his tone unconvincing. He didn't seem to believe the words coming out of his mouth. "It could've been a kid or something, right?"

"Right," Jesse nodded reassuringly. She stood and firmly grasped his shoulders, "Are you starting to understand?"

Oliver nodded, though he was still visibly shaking. "Yeah," he said, "yeah, I understand."

Jesse loosened her grip on his shoulders and allowed her smile to falter. "Good. You'll help me, then?"

He looked over her shoulder once more at the body, "You want me to help you cut him up?"

"No," she said, turning away from him. "I'll do that part. I need help with the cleanup."

Oliver nodded once again and said nothing more. Jesse turned away from him and sized up the body and saw. She had very little experience using a table saw, though her father had been a carpenter. The day prior she set aside a few hours to figure the saw out, testing it on pieces of scrap wood.