CUTTER
NaNOWriMo Idea # 4
Cover 1 and Cover 2
CUTTER
Cutter
sat down on a stool at the empty bar. In was three in the morning on the wrong
side of New Orleans.
“What’ll you have?” the woman behind
the bar asked.
“I looking for a woman named Glory.”
“You see any women in this place?”
“Only you, and I’m guessing you are not
Glory. Where is everybody?”
“It’s three in the morning. I locked
the door and turned the sign off an hour ago. How did you get in?”
“Is it too late for a drink? Can I buy
you a rye?”
“Sounds
good. Where’s the harm?”
The
bartender poured out two fingers of rye into glasses.
“To
life,” the woman said, tossing back the whiskey.
“L’Chaim,”
said Cutter, doing the same.
“What’s
your name?” the bartender asked.
“Cutter.”
“Cutter
what?”
“Just
Cuter.”
“How
do you come to be called Cutter? Did you cut yourself as a kid? Serve in the
Coast Guard? Perhaps it’s an occupation, like glass cutter or diamond cutter.”
“Yea,
something like that. People hire me when they need to do a bit of cutting in
their life.”
“Why
don’t they do their own cutting?”
“Some
do, but it’s always better to use a professional. My cuts are cleaner and
always final.”
Cutter
reached over the bar; grabbing the women by her apron, he slashed across the
woman’s throat with a Karambit knife. A cut deep enough to nearly sever her head
from her neck. Already dead, the woman’s face looked resigned to her fate as
her body collapsed to the floor.
Wearing
surgical gloves, Cutter took his time wiping the bar of blood and any prints he
might have left on the counter or glass. His contracts normally stipulated that
he would dispose of anybody. Removing any evidence of his presence, of his art,
meant he gained no fame, but his safety came first. Cutting up the body and
packaging it for disposal was the simple part. Cleaning the floor of blood took
longer. Spots of blood on a barroom floor might be easily explained.
At
the back entrance, Cutter carried the wrapped body parts into the trunk of his car.
He then placed a false floor and spare tire on top of the parts. He had already
prepared a hole in a forest over an hour away.
Cutter
had thought of everything, except the surveillance camera in the back of the
bar. The light on the camera was burned out. Cutter assumed it was turned off. Even
so, he kept his back to the camera. The tape never caught his face, but it certainly
captured his skill with a knife.
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