What Lovely Kidneys You Have (An Eyeless Jack P.O.V & Romance)

6 - You Eat Cake Like I Eat Kidneys

“We’re here; you can let go now,” I informed, my arms slightly tired.

I had been carrying the crying girl like a bride a long distance from the victim’s house, back to her own. I had tried persuading her that we should leave before the police or someone showed up, checking to access what all of the screaming was about, but she wouldn’t move; she was stiff as stone. I tried dragging her away from the scene, but she’d just fall to the floor and pout, crying about what she had done, which in my opinion, was a very good deed. I know that killing someone must bring pain to their conscious, but damn, this girl was overcome with emotion. I speculated that she was only crying because she knew the magnitude of her sin, and was already tearing apart over the possible consequence. It was just like seeing a child, anxious and sad, ready for the slapping punishment of a belt. She clung to my chest the entire way, and that made it easier to carry her, and the cake; I supposed eating it might make her feel slightly better.

“Honestly, letting go won’t make you feel any worse. It’ll only make my arms feel  less fatigued.”

“Mm,” she whimpered, not speaking English, but ‘baby’.

If I had eyes, I’d be rolling them.

Setting the cake down on a mass of clothing, I came next to the bed, still holding her, and with a great force, slammed her down onto the mattress with a loud squeak. She immediately crawled back over towards me on her knees and wrapped her arms around my waist, squeezing tightly as though she was holding on for dear life. I wiggled a bit at the contact, not used to the feeling of someone at my hips.

“I know you’re upset, but is this truly necessary?” I questioned, trying to pry her off of me, but she wouldn’t budge.

“Yes!” She cried, gripping even harder.

“Why are you clinging to me like a parasite?” I asked, getting frustrated, “Detach yourself, creature.”

She shook her head, speaking through sobs, “I killed someone! What is wrong with me!? Not only is it a sin, but a crime and now,” she whimpered some more, “I’m going to jail and I’ll never get to hug another person again for the rest of my life! Well, that is unless a fellow inmate wants to cuddle but I won’t want to cuddle because I’m a murderer and murderers don’t deserve cuddles!”

“Then why are you cuddling me right this moment?”

Her face turned up to look at me, her chin placed on my belly button, “I’m not cuddling. I’m clutching. There’s a difference.”

I raised my hands up in defense for a slight moment, “Oh well excuuuuusee me. Idiot.”

“How can you live with yourself?” She whispered up at me, biting her bottom lip with sorrow.

“I just can.”

“But you kill people all the time and yet you don’t regret it!”

I shrugged, finding it difficult to explain, “Listen, I am not your average murderer, as you’ve probably concluded by now. But I did not choose this lifestyle, nor would I want anyone else to have it. But just as a lion needs its prey, or a vampire needs a victim’s blood-”

“Or as peanut butter needs jelly?”

“Yes Nadia,” I answered robotically, annoyed by her idiotic interruption, “Just as peanut butter needs jelly. Anyways,” I continued, “I need Kidneys. And on occasion, livers. But mainly, kidneys. There’s no science to it, it’s simply the way I am, and there’s nothing that can make me feel regret for that.”

She looked as though she was digesting what I was saying, “So, I should just accept the fact that I’m a murderer now and let it go because that’s who I am now?”