Breaking Chains

The anniversary

Celia dragged the body down the steps, the head hitting each step with a thud.

Dissolving a body was like cooking. Make the sauce, slice the meat, let it marinate overnight, drain the fat, cook the excess, and store the leftovers, usually in a ditch. Mr. Thorne prefered acid for the sauce, Samantha preferred bases, and Celia just liked to poke at the bodies.

Samantha put on her butcher’s apron.

Cutting up the bodies was always difficult for Samantha. Her low height put her at a disadvantage in getting leverage and her meager strength did nothing in helping her cut through bone. To compensate for this, a guillotine like slicer had been fashioned for her convenient use. She usually sliced them herself because Samantha didn’t like Celia getting her hands dirty; partially to maintain her purity, but also because she never remembered to wash them afterward.

The body was put onto the low set table; another thing for Samantha’s convenience. Slice, slice, went the guillotine. Splash, splash, went the blood.

The more the pieces, the faster the dissolving and the better it fit into the tub. It was an extremely messy process, hence the butcher’s apron, but it make things easier in the long run. So Samantha just had to deal with the sloppy mess and bath frequently. At least she didn’t go out much and therefore didn’t have to care much in regards to her appearance.

Celia started to empty a tub by ladling the liquid content into jars.

The liquid leftovers had to be put into jars and were later taken to a cemetery and buried in a newly dug grave before the coffin was set in. Samantha usually hid a lot of them in her wheelchair and pretended to be a grieving widow to excuse her excessive visits to the cemetery. The black veil covered her bandaged face and no one ever questioned her or her accompanying nurse, Celia.

Samantha started to mix the solution of bases for the dissolving.

The only problem with using bases to dissolve bodies was that they didn’t dissolve the body as completely as acids and there was usually some excess, mainly the bones. The bones had to be burned first to make them brittle and were then ground into powder. It made for excellent fertilizer. In addition, the fumes for bases were less strong, and the last thing Samantha wanted to do was make Celia crazier from exposure.

The pieces were put into the tub and left to soak. In a few days time they would return to liquidated remains. Right now they had other things to do.

“Celia,” Samantha called. “It’s time to go.” Celia nodded.

“Today’s the anniversary?”

“Today’s the anniversary,” Samantha confirmed. Celia helped Samantha wash up and they went to meet Mr. Thorne. It was an important day.

“So this is it,” Samantha said.

“Yes.”

“It’s nice.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Thorne said. They stood and sat in serene silence. “Touch anything and I break your fingers.”

“Understood,” Samantha affirmed. “Celia, come along now.” Celia jumped from her seat in the meadow and ran to catch up with them in the willow. She broke through the veil of willow leaves a flower wreath in hand and a grin on her face, but her expression changed to curiosity when she spotted the white cross.

“The servant woman?” Celia asked. She put the flower crown she had made around the white cross and sat on the grass next to Samantha’s wheelchair.

“The servant woman,” Samantha confirmed.“Ms. Meadows,” Mr. Thorne corrected. He knelt down and placed the bouquet of white roses on the grave. Bits of dirt had managed to worm their way into the corners of the cross and Mr. Thorne brushed them off while the willow branches that curtained around them softly swayed in the salty breeze.