In Laymon's Terms

Sherry grabbed the note off the machete. She opened it and, again, read it aloud.

It’s me again. You get the idea how this works. This was the weapon used to kill the poor person.

Now, my love, take off your bra and go into your bedroom. Look in the closet.

If you both don’t do what I say, well, you don’t wanna know. Believe me.

Ciao.

Sherry scrunched up the note and threw it down to the kitchen floor. “I don’t believe this. I’m not going to take off my goddamn bra for some sick weirdo.”

Simon was still holding the machete. “I think you’d better,” he said. “Who knows what kind of psycho we’re dealing with.”

“He’s not watching,” Sherry whined.

“How do we know?” Simon said.

Sherry looked at him hard, as if this were all his fault. She quickly unfastened the bra and let it fall to the ground.

Simon gazed at the perfect curves of her small breasts. Her nipples were hard and they were covered in goose bumps. His penis began to stiffen.

“Oh God,” Sherry groaned. “You’re sick.”

Simon’s face went hot, and he could tell that he was blushing. “Sorry,” he shrugged.

“Come on,” Sherry said sharply. “What are you going to do with that?” She nodded towards the machete.

“Take it with us. You never know,” he said.

Sherry turned around and hurried out of the kitchen, Simon following close behind. They arrived at their bedroom, and Sherry went over to the closet.

“Wait!” Simon said. “This time I look. I’m the one with the machete. Okay?”

Sherry nodded. Simon strode up to the closet and took a hold of the knob. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he muttered.

“Just hurry up and do it,” Sherry told him.

Holding the machete firmly in his left hand, Simon flung the closet door open. He was ready to strike, but frowned and lowered the machete when he saw nothing in there. “Can’t see anything,” Simon said.

Sherry joined Simon and studied the dim closet. She squatted down and saw blood on the carpet. “Simon! There’s blood.”

“What?” Simon crouched down and saw a small pool of blood seeping into the carpet.

They both flinched when a drop of blood fell from the bunch of clothes and landed on the floor.

They both stood up. Before Sherry had a chance to do it, Simon flung the hanging clothes to the side and gasped.

When Sherry saw the headless body hanging by a thick hook, she jumped back and began crying.

Simon stepped closer and studied the corpse. He guessed that the head in the sink belonged to this body. It was a woman, and judging by the flat stomach and long slender legs, used to be a young woman. One that had been about the same age as Sherry. Blood sheathed the lifeless body like a can of paint had been tipped over it.

“Is there a note?” Sherry said from behind.

“Jesus, do I have to look?”

Sherry huffed. “Fuck! I’ll do...”

“No,” Simon said. “You wait there.” There wasn’t much of a stink, so the body couldn’t have been dead for long. Still, Simon held his breath and stepped into the closet. He wrapped his arm around the body and searched for the note. The skin felt icy cold and sticky due to the blood. He could feel himself wanting to gag, but he swallowed and continued the grotesque hunt. “I can’t feel anything,” he called back. “Maybe it’s...” He stopped. He closed his eyes and tried hard not to puke.

“What? What is it? You find the note?”

Simon nodded slowly. “Sure did. It’s up her...bottom.”

Sherry couldn’t help but snigger when Simon said that word. It sounded strange for a grown man to call it a bottom.

“You wanna take the note,” Simon barked.

“No no, I’m sorry, Simon.”

Simon took a deep breath and gripped the note with the tip of his fingers. He pulled it out with care, he wasn’t sure why, and let his breath out when he had fished it from between her cheeks. He jumped back from the body and threw the note down. It fluttered to the floor. “I can’t believe this is happening,” Simon panted.

Sherry bent down and picked up the note.

“Don’t touch...” Simon began.

Sherry straightened up and looked at him. “We have to, Simon.” She unfolded the blood-stained note.

Greetings and salutations! If you are reading this it means you have found the lovely lass. And yes, to answer your question, her head is currently sitting in your laundry sink. Now, take off your panties, dear.

And sir, can you please...

Sherry stopped reading and looked up. Simon had his mouth gaping, panting hard. “What is it?”

Without uttering a word, Sherry continued to read.

...can you please close your mouth. You look like a goddamn fish.