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Her fingers dripped with his blood, and the knife she gripped firmly was covered in it. She couldn't help but picture her uncle's face on the man that was lying on the floor, a pool of blood collecting at his side. She smiled, her eyes wide, her mind strangely calm, a sense of justice washing over her. Finally, vindication. Since Kate had told her he'd raped her, Justine had relived her own terrible experience night after night. She'd barely been able to offer the frantic and confused Kate any comfort. Instead, she'd thrown all her efforts into plotting their revenge. She'd come to think of it as theirs. It was her uncle who had taken her innocence, but she believed that any man who was willing to get sex through force deserved to die. She would find her peace in this. Now, standing over his body, her heart swelled with so much triumph it felt close to bursting. Her eyes were glazed as she turned him over, and took his limp penis from his pants. She laughed hysterically at how minuscule it looked, how small it was. She sliced it with more malice than precision, her blade neatly cutting through the skin and the ducts. It came off in her hand, still limp, bleeding profusely. She tossed it aside, oblivious to the horrified screams of the man who watched helplessly as he was stripped of his manhood. She put her face close to his, close enough to smell the fear on his skin. It made her heady. Her laugh was maniacal.
'You want to act like a pig, asshole. Then we'll treat you like one.'
Quickly she stripped him of his balls as well, holding the bloody globes of flesh so he could see them. He only moaned and tried feebly to push her away.
'You're nothing but a god-damned coward. You think you're so tough. Now whose the tough one?'
'I...' He groaned out.
'Shut up. I gave you a chance to apologize before. It's too late now.'
Kate watched from the doorway, biting her fingernails until they bled. What had she unleashed on the world? It was because of her that this new side, this terribly frightening, crazy side of Justine had emerged. Gone was the troubled, slightly eccentric, and amusing girl she'd called friend. A monster had taken over her body, a monster she must have harbored in the shadow for years, walking among them, talking with them, sleeping only a few feet away. Why hadn't she seen it?
Justine's voice, shrill and strange, cut into her thoughts.
'Help me with him. He's heavy!'
Kate moved forward quickly, wary of riling this new and very dangerous Justine.
'Do you want to cut him? He's not dead yet, and there are still places left to cut.'
The question caught her off guard. She stared at Justine, but found that a crazed stranger stared back at her. Shrugging to hide the shiver that suddenly ran through her, she shook her head. Justine returned her shrug, blew her short bangs out of her face and grabbed an arm.
They lugged the body through the house and to the backyard, both of them breathing hard. Kate was horrified. Could she tell Justine what she had done? They left the body in the shadow of a tree, and circled the house, closing the gate as they left the yard. They planned to return later in the night with shovels.
Kate caught Justine by the arm. The girl was covered in blood.
'Justine, slow down.'
A smile lit Justine's face. But it was not one of the beautiful ones she'd used to turn men's minds to mush. It was a sick, depraved kind of smile, more of a twisting of the lips than a show of merriment.
'We did it. Doesn't it feel good?'
'No it doesn't.' Kate answered. She let out a quick breath. It was because of her selfishness that a man was dead, and her best friend was almost crazy, if not already pushed right over the edge. 'We were only supposed to rough him up.'
Justine let out a long shrill laugh. It sounded the same way it would have if she'd been drunk. 'Doesn't he look 'roughed up'?'
'Justine, I have something to confess.' Kate swallowed and plunged in. ' He didn't rape me. I...I did it willingly. I lied to you. It...I felt guilty...after. So I made up that story so I could get even, so I could hurt him to get rid of the guilt.'
Justine's face clouded. Her eyes glazed over again and a look of pure unadulterated confusion crossed her face. Then the confusion lifted, and her eyes filled with the emotion that Kate had been dreading; anger.
'Don't be angry.' Kate whispered, close to tears. 'I didn't mean to.'
Justine stormed towards her, clutching the knife.
'I killed someone, because you lied! I stood up for you and you lied!'
Her eyes filled with tears, an unseen hand clutched her heart and squeezed. Something inside her snapped. She heard the loud pop in her ears, as if emanating from the inside; an explosion inside; an implosion. Then she felt the blood gushing out her nose. Her righteous indignation collapsed in on itself, and the fires of justification that had burned within her were suddenly cool, leaving her hollow and empty. There was no vindication in this, no healing, no salvation. The only thing she'd accomplished was adding another mortal sin to her long list of sins. She stared at Kate, ignoring the blood that was pouring from her nose, dripping unto her shirt, mingling with the blood of her victim. It was somehow poetic; that her blood should wash into his. She stared at Kate and felt a bone deep betrayal. She couldn't think of anything to say, didn't know what was right or wrong anymore, didn't know up from down, or love from hate. Her logic lost it's edge, her emotions dulled. Her mind snapped. The suddenness of the laugh surprised even her, the shrillness of it, the madness in it.
Her lips moved, unperturbed by the blood that poured into her mouth from her bleeding nose.
'I always wanted to kill someone, anyways.' With that and another shrill laugh, she dropped the knife and walked off into the night. Not knowing what else to do, Kate scooped it up and followed.