May I?

Of course, Miss.
Just slash me across the heart with that pretty little blade of yours.
Let red blood ooze from my innocent heart.
Just end what you have started.

Oh, not so fast.
I have my last words don't I?
Yes, indeed, I believe I do.
Let me tell you a story.


On a horrible, bleak day. Yes, the kind you would find in some detective story. The detective who is just mulling about London. Those kind of days, the depressive ones you like to read about on rainy days. You have a fascination for all that mirrors yourself, no? Deny it all you want. Well, there is a man within this horrible, bleak day. He looks like a wolf. Not the 'I'm going to eat your grandmother wolf but more like 'I'll eat you then your grandmother' wolf. He meant business. Yes, he had business with a young lady by the name of Mary, nothing to do with immaculate conception, in fact, Mary was a self pronounced Atheist and quite ostracized for it in her little Catholic family. The two of them hated each other. A family feud without the star crossed lovers, but (let's just call him wolf boy) had suspicions about Philip with that other Catholic girl Janet. Catholic versus Protestant. What was this business you asked? They were there to make a deal.


Mary, sweet, Mary had a lot of money. So big that the money was flooding out the front doors of her mansion. Maybe not that big, but it was big. Really big! She had a husband, and her husband was not named God, though wolf boy really wished it was as he loves that kind of thing. His name was Jeff, how anticlimactic. He was such a bore, boring, boring and asked horrible things of little Mary. Things behind closed doors, naughty, selfish things that was very un-Catholic of Jeff. Just the name makes me want to vomit. You too? You look a bit green, Miss, need a paper bag? No, I don't really have a paper bag, but it's the thought that counts. Anyhow, Mary didn't like Jeff. Not at all. Rage slowly brewed in a metaphorical witch cauldron full of other emotions. Shame, disgust, hatred, and all of those pretty ingredients to disaster. She needed help. She needed Jeff to go to God. Mary just wanted a bit of alone time.


Wolf boy was happy to help. They met in an alleyway. It was a horrible, bleak day like I said. I'm upgrading wolf boy to wolf man, now, as that title isn't amusing to me anymore. Wolf man wanted money and Mary had money. Easy, quick and breezy contract which ended in all parties satisfied except a certain Jeff. Mary had a smile, wolf man had a smile, and Jeff wouldn't have a smile for long. As all disasters go, it wasn't a pleasant one.


Wolf man went through the back door like he usually does. Jeff was praying, ironically, to God for forgiveness. As wolf man was no fucking angel, he didn't listen long to the prayers. If I was God, I wouldn't have forgiven him for those things that wolf man heard. As a matter of fact, wolf man didn't forgive him either. Across the neck. Swift. Maybe wolf man was an angel. Possibly a fallen one, but he was merciful. Wolf man liked to make it quick. Wolf man was good at such things-- at business. He was a business man and not a family one. Wolf man liked those detective novels, too. The ones you like to read, Miss? Experiencing a bit of heavy breathing, Miss? I know, it's such a sad story. No, you'll have to wait for the ending. You don't want to kill me, right? You want to hear the story. All you want to do is hear the story. Just set the knife down, in my hands, good.

Now, let's continue.


He ran like a wolf out the scene. Blood was washed in a nearby stream. It was very cold, the kind of cold that kills. Have you ever read a novel about that, Miss? I'm sure you haven't. When he met Mary back in the alleyway she was being followed by a little rat. He looked like one, too. Wolf man ate him, metaphorically. Or maybe not, it's up for consideration. Though the rat was gone, the rat was followed by men, real men in blue. Deep blue, the kind that drowns you. Have you ever read a novel about that, Miss? Well, they imprisoned them together in a tiny cell. They had lots of evidence. Mary apparently kept a stupid diary filled with incriminating evidence. How stupid. Yes, you agree? It was very stupid. They were sentenced to a mental institution. I don't know what for, exactly. It's really all up for interpretation. Was the day that horrible, that bleak? Was Mary going to birth Jesus if Jeff had not died? Or maybe people would know if Philip and Janet ever really got together? Questions, questions, questions, and I really don't have the time for answers, Miss. Are you crying, now? Why? Is it because I have your knife?

What was that? Was that a 'give me back my knife, you bastard' or a 'kill me with that knife, beloved'.

I always get that confused. Now, let me see that beautiful face beneath your hood.

May I? I asked.

I gave her my best wolfish grin.