Cleaning House

500wordssq-e1388528458656‘Huh!’ he said. ‘I never would have thought that would fit in there’.

Wiping sweat out of his eyes, he continued to hold the tatty old holdall open with one hand while cramming Julie’s severed right leg inside with his other hand. Blood sprayed his face as he worked and he continuously had to wipe it away.

The rest of Julie lay spread out on the table behind him, split from groin to sternum. Her remains lay on top of some plastic sheeting which had quickly filled up with congealed blood. He had severed her arms, legs and her head, figuring she’d be easier to transport that way.

With a great effort, he managed to cram her right leg inside the bag, stuffing it right next to the left one. He had to really bend and twist her toes but managed to fit in all in. There was no room for anything else in the bag so he zipped it up and dumped it on the floor.

He grabbed another bag, opened it and lifted her right leg off the table behind him. Her legs were long and slim, thank God so he should manage to fit both of them inside one bag. He started to shove the first leg in and a creaking sound behind him made him jump. He dropped the leg onto the open bag with a thud and turned around. There was nothing behind him, of course, just the natural shifting and settling of his house, or his imagination.

‘This place is too damn quiet’ he muttered.

He left the room, his workroom in the basement of the house, went upstairs and grabbed his iPod from the living room. He noticed a few drops of blood on the floor on his way to the workroom and made a mental note to clean it up when he’d finished packing and transporting Julie. He placed his iPod on the little table next to the sink, choose a random playlist and A Thousand Years by Christina Perri filled the room.

‘Much better’ he said.

He returned to his work. He crammed her right leg inside the bag. It took a lot of manoeuvring to get the leg squashed down enough to make room for the second. He was out of breath, red-faced, wheezing by the time he was done. He closed his eyes and listened to the music for a moment until his breathing returned to normal. He crammed the right leg inside the bag, breaking three of the toes to fit it in then dropped it on the floor on top of the other bag.

He’d need a much bigger bag for his next task; packing her torso. Julie was thin, mush slimmer than the last one whose torso had to be cut into chunks and packed into two bags, but she was still too big to fit into the same size bag as her arms. Thankfully, he had a few bigger bags in his workroom for such occasions. He grabbed one of these from the storage cabinet in the corner and carried it over to the table where she was sprawled.

He grabbed her torso, torn open with his favourite axe and started to lift it. The music was still blaring away. He didn’t recognise the song but it had a nice, distracting beat. He found himself humming along. His eyes drifted to Julie’s head, perched on the edge of the table, her beautiful face, unmarked. The eyes seemed to stare towards him, accusingly.

‘It’s no good looking at me like that’ he muttered. ‘You left me no choice with all that screaming. What did you expect me to do? I admit it was my fault, leaving the door of this place unlocked. A momentary lapse you had to pay for. I’m sorry my darling. I never meant for any of this to touch you’.

He wiped away tears that had started to run down his face, grabbed her torso and carried it over to the table in the centre of the room. He’d forgot to open the bigger bag and swore, dumping the torso on the table, grabbing the bag and yanking down the zip. He could feel Julie stare at him as he crammed the torso inside the bag. There was a bad moment when he thought the last few centimetres wouldn’t fit. He took a deep breath and crammed, pushing and squashed until the whole things slid in. He zipped the bag up and dumped it on the floor.

He was sweating profusely now, his lank hair was plastered to his head, sweat ran down his face and into his eyes, stinging him. He could hardly breathe. His chest felt tight and his breath came in ragged little gasps. He leant one hand on top of the table and bent over, gasping until his breathing returned to normal.

He didn’t need a bag for her head. He had something entirely different in mind. He took a small Ziploc bag from the cupboard at the back of the work-room, grabbed her head and shoved it inside. The Ziploc bags he bought were large so there was plenty of space for her small, dainty head. He sealed the bag and looked down at her face, eyes open but empty. He kissed her face through the plastic of the bag.

‘I’m really sorry about this Julie but you gave me no choice’ he said.

He carried the Ziploc bag over to the chest freezer in the corner, lifted the lid and dropped it in on top of the others. She glared up at him as he closed the lid. There was still a lot to do before he could transport her.

He left the workroom, closing and carefully locking the door behind him and went upstairs. He walked carefully. The blood covering his skin was mostly dry but there were still some sticky patches. He didn’t want to risk getting more blood in other parts of the house than absolutely necessary. Julie had taken him by surprise and he didn’t have time to be a meticulous and clean as usual. He was relieved when he reached the bathroom at last. He entered the room but left the door open. There was nobody to bother him now.

He filled the tub with hot water and foam bath then got in it. His body was burning with pain and he sighed with relief as soon as the water touched him. The pain started to melt away. He scrubbed the blood off his body, noticing the water had a deep pink. He leaned back, closed his eyes and started to drift off.


Copyright © 2018 by Pamela Scott

This is my 500 words for today.

The story was inspired by an old prompt on the story a day website which had the opening line above.

The story also appears on Wattpad and Tumblr.



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