Killer-Extras: Flash Fiction
A job promotion isn't always the best thing. . .
The Right Suit
By Lisa McDonald
"All right, lay them bags over there." Ronnie spoke gruffly.
Johnny had been working for his new boss for a month when he was partnered up with Ronnie. At the time, he’d looked forward to doing bigger jobs; sweeping floors and polishing knobs was too lonely for a guy like him.
"I'm gonna chop 'em up. You bag 'em." Ronnie pulled the hacksaw out from under a long metal table.
"What? I gotta touch that? It's fucking slimy!"
The body was oversized, bloated from being dead too long, which made the job even more unbearable. Ronnie never paid attention to the sinewy network of veins that lay just beneath the surface of the skin. Johnny did. It looked as if the corpse had been wrapped in a dark blue web. One mistake and those veins’ would blow out juice and stain forever. Ronnie lifted up one of the hands, inspected the thick, gold ring on the pinky finger before tugging it off and slipping it in to his pocket.
"So? We gotta do it." Ronnie shot a sideways glance at Johnny while resting the edge of the saw against one of the lifeless, gray limbs.
"But, I got my new suit on!" Johnny protested once again, but he knew Ronnie was right.
With a heavy sigh, Johnny laid out the plastic bags alongside each other on the warehouse floor, while Ronnie started. Usually, pushing a broom and working with his arms kept him warm, but today, it was colder than usual. He was colder than he used to be. He realized just how quiet this part of town was. The warehouse was out of the way and unassuming. It was perfect.
Times had been tough for Johnny; starting with loosing his job as an ad salesman when the firm closed. There was nothing out there and he had to find something to support his wife and family. Desperation had brought him to his cousin, Lorenzo, who gave him the 'hook up' with the family business. Sweeping floors was grunt work, but at least it paid with straight-up cash. He could put groceries on the table again. But, getting promoted in this job had a whole new meaning.
The hacksaw ripped back and forth, back and forth, until it hit something solid. The grinding of metal on bone sent a shiver down Johnny's spine. He looked over to see the flesh flop open at the shoulder and he feared he would ruin his new shoes with his own vomit. Strands of muscle pulled away like chewed bubble gum and the arm fell to the table where it rattled against the metal.
"Hey! Ya know what? We could be Ronnie and Johnny. That sounds like one of them morning shows on the radio." Ronnie laughed. Johnny did not.
"Pretend like we're in the fish market! Heads up!" The butcher tossed the gangling arm towards Johnny.
Johnny stumbled and reached out for the limb, nearly slipping on one of the plastic bags as he caught it. It left a handsome, gooey mess on his jacket, splattering excess onto his legs. Globules of blood and some other fluid formed gelatinous bubbles that jiggled on the thing.
"Aw, geez, I was gonna wear this jacket to go look for another job. . .” He laid the arm down, starting to wrap it tight in the plastic.
"Next time, wear jeans. You’re not that kind of guy. You weren't meant to wear a suit!” Ronnie shook his head, going back to his work of hacksaw against flesh.
Johnny felt himself sicken as he wrapped up the limb like a wet fish, rolling and sealing it tight. He sighed as he gazed upon his white gold wedding ring, thinking of the one Ronnie had taken. It was going to be a long night.
Ronnie threw back a larger, heavier limb. A leg to add to the arm Johnny had just wrapped. Flabby fat at the top of the thigh oozed from the ragged torn flesh splattering against the floor as it flopped over.
Ronnie smiled.
“We make a good team, buddy! This is the last job you’ll ever need!”
Bio Bits:
Lisa McDonald lives in Oviedo, Florida and works full time in television news.
She does freelance writing in her spare time and has been published for Midnight Showcase.
Her favorite genres of writing are fantasy, erotica, and horror. Lisa has also been published in commercial
publications for Asbury Park Press.
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