His vision finally began to clear, and his world began to stabilize. He was now horribly aware of the warm blood dripping from his hands. He was snapping out of it, and was standing in the middle of the mess he created. Everest sighed, feeling a kind of relief, like the pulling from inside him finally gave. He felt loose, and free… but he knew this clarity wouldn’t last long. It was only a matter of time before the strings tied to his heart pulled tight again, urging him to do what he loved most. Everest wished that the knife he left in this woman’s naval was sharp enough to cut the strings, though he knew it wasn’t. 

Everest wrapped the dismembered body up in the plastic wrap it was laying on and dragged her out to his backyard. He lived in the middle of nowhere, so disposing of bodies was never an issue. He lit a fire in the pit, and threw limb by limb into the fire. He wore a mask so he was able to bear the smell, and watched the life he took turn to ash and float into the air. Once he was finished, he would simply go back inside like nothing had ever happened. With no neighbors to smell the rotting, cooking flesh, he was golden. The smell was gone within an hour or two, so when morning came, when there was a risk of people happening to pass by, there would be nothing left.

Everest showered, dressed himself in a pair of boxers, and laid himself in bed. He looked at the half empty bottle of Klonopins next to him. Shit, I’m going to need another prescription soon.