Kisses and Axes

 Most people don’t anticipate meeting an axe murderer right when they walk into their home.

 It would be a rather strange meeting, mused Alice, as she wrestled with the doorknob. Strange, but not unexpected.  Well, not to her. There wasn’t much she didn’t expect anymore.

 Said axe murderer placed a pale hand on her shoulder before her bright pink flip-flop shod feet could even touch the floor of the small entranceway. Surprised in spite of herself, Alice lurched forward and stumbled into a chokehold.

 “Ah…she falls at last…” The words vibrated ominously in the dark stillness of the empty house.

 There was silence for a moment. Dust motes floated lazily around the heads of the two figures locked in a grim parody of an embrace. Then, Alice giggled.

 “You idiot!” She shoved playfully at the threatening man’s chest, still laughing. “That has to be the most cliché joke in romantic history.”

 A rumble of laughter met hers as she continued to shove the man in the direction of the living room. The hatchet he had been clutching dropped out of his hand and bounced a couple of times before rolling to a stop on the plush carpet. Alice paid no attention as it fell, pushing him down into the sofa with a groan that emerged more out of contentment then effort.

 Her boyfriend smirked up at her as she leaned over him threateningly, blonde strands of hair tickling at his stubble-sprinkled jaw.

 “Aren’t you scared of Maniac Michael, the Chopper and Gutter of All?” His voice lowered a notch at the threatening description.

 Alice’s answer was lost in the space between their lips, space that seemed unable to expand more than a couple of centimeters for the next few minutes. Finally, the couple drew back with a gasp.

 “Is that going to be your name on the advertisements?” Alice murmured questioningly in the direction of the ceiling. She had somehow landed face up, curled up on Michael’s chest as his fingers danced their way up her bare arms. He grunted.

 “Yup. Your boyfriend is now the star attraction at our beautiful city’s haunted house, home of spooks and kooks, but none that can compare with yours truly’s looks.”

 Alice groaned, then laughed, rolling out of his embrace and springing to her feet.

 “That is literally the worst rhyming pun ever, and I bet you worked hours over it.”

 Michaels only response was to raise his eyebrows and declare in a sotto mysterious tone, “A master never reveals his secrets.” 

 She snorted, kicking her boyfriend’s rubber weapon out of her way as she traipsed to the tiny kitchenette, wrinkling her nose at the lurid lime-green cabinets and the tiny table in its eye-watering shade of puke yellow. They had lived here for six months and Alice still couldn’t get used to their landlords questionable taste.

 Lived here for six months… Alice savored the thought, letting it twist its way down a familiar, rose strewn path.

 Opening the fridge as she daydreamed, Alice squinted at the interior. A couple of apples rolling forlornly around at the bottom of the crisper, a few packs of beer, and a half empty bottle of milk met her gaze. With her shoulder, she shoved at the refrigerator doors, which shut with a squeal that set her teeth on edge. Not even bothering to look at the pantry, which she knew would be just as empty, Alice poked her head back into the living room.

 “Michael?”

***

 “Yeah?” Michael responded absently, not looking up from his supine position on the couch. In the gap between his questioning response and Alice’s answer, his thoughts wandered.

 Did she notice? Have to figure out when to do it, not yet…

 “Michael!” He startled and grinned sheepishly up at his girlfriend.

 “Sorry, I’m a little spacy, what’d you say?”

 Alice grinned back, pushing her glasses up her small, freckled nose as she repeated herself.

 “We’re cleaned out. Should I pick up a couple of stuff in the grocery?”

 Michael’s pulse quickened and a thrum of nervous anticipation zipped through his spine, sending him bolt upright.

 Perfect.

 Attempting to mask his sudden ramrod posture, Michael slouched back and pretended to deliberate before responding.

 “Hey, how ‘bout we go out to a cute café or something? We haven’t eaten out in a while.” He hoped desperately Alice hadn’t noticed the way his voice had dipped and squeaked suddenly in middle of his answer.

 Apparently she hadn’t, because all she did was squeal and begin looking up restaurants near them. Michael smiled and paid no attention to the addresses she rattled off.

 He had a different place in mind.

 While Alice rushed up the narrow, creaking staircase to change, Michael smiled fondly at her retreating back and leaned comfortably into the sagging couch cushions. Eyes darting again toward the stairs, he stuck his hand into the back pocket of his jeans and fingered the item stuck tightly in there. Michael licked his suddenly dry lips.

 Please let her say yes…

He withdrew his hand from his pocket hastily, as the soft slap-slap of Alice’s sandals announced her arrival. Looking like a pixie in a short green dress, she twirled when she reached the bottom of the stairs and cocked her head at Michael.

 He answered her unspoken query with a kiss and a declaration that she looked beautiful, as usual. With an elaborate twirl of his hands, Michael ushered his girlfriend toward their tiny car, a muscle in his throat jumping nervously in spite of his determination to look calm and casual.

 For gods sake! He charged around a freaking haunted house dressed like an axe murderer for a living, and this was still the scariest thing he had ever done.  

***

 Her legs were cramping in this tiny tub.

 Muttering under her breath, she kicked her heels off, disregarding the violent thunk they made against the porcelain tiles of the bathroom wall. She had planned to keep them on throughout, anticipating a dramatic effect, but they were just too damned uncomfortable.

 She heard the distant sound of a car door slam shut and breathed a silent sigh of relief. She had been worried for a moment that the couple would come back. As it was, that stupid girl had spent eons dithering in front of the mirror over her makeup, and she had been worried she would lose control and burst out of the tub too early. But she’d held strong.

 She’d waited too long for this day to ruin it on some impatient impulse.

 It was that nervous man that had set her off. Not that he was unusual. Most men who entered her store were nervous. Her lip curled as she remembered how his voice had squeaked slightly as he asked to see the rings. He had babbled as he chose, telling her how excited he was, that he knew her girlfriend liked this cut because she had admired it on a celebrity and no, he didn’t know how he would be proposing yet. He knew this cute place for a picnic, maybe the next time they went out to eat…. Here he had stopped as he dug into his wallet and handed over a credit card that had wavered in a slightly trembling hand. Name, age, address, she had known it all by the end and then…then she was here and she was ready.

 Stretching her arm out towards the dim bathroom fixture, she admired the beautiful instrument of dispatch in her hand. The light glinted off the top and traveled in a brilliant path down the sharpened edges, stopping dully at the handle. Metal on wood, wood on metal, joined in an inextricable bond of destructive force and she bared her teeth in a feral grin at the thought of it. It was an untested blade, young and hungry, as she once was, and the thought of feeding it on the two warm bodies driving contentedly away made her want to laugh and laugh and laugh.

 So she did.

 Her hilarity echoed back to her, until the whole house seemed to shake with rollicking chuckles of glee.

 Almost…almost… it whispered to her in between its spasms of laughter.  

 Almost time…

 Still beset with the occasional giggle, she settled back into the tub, weapon hanging loosely at her side.

 Most people didn’t anticipate meeting an axe murderer right when they walked into their homes.

 This was going to be fun.