The Vivisectionist

I knelt at my brother’s shrine, praying. I could barely believe that it had already been a year since he died. It was night, and moonlight spilled into the living room of my apartment. It was bright enough so that I didn’t need to light the candles to see. I lit them anyway, of course.

My brother was a witch--Wiccan, to be exact--and he always held a peculiar, if funny, reverence for the moon. It was a fixation of his. We used to sit together in this very room, and he’d tell me stories and legends. We last saw each other little more than a year ago. It seemed like such a long time.

“How’re you doing up there?” I asked, staring at a picture of Daniel‘s face above the shrine. “Are they treating you good? You get to meet Edgar Allen Poe at last?” I knew it must be silly to talk to my brother’s ashes, but ... sometimes it felt like he could hear me. Sometimes I could almost hear him answer me.

I waited patiently to hear him reply. He didn’t, of course. How could he?

“They didn’t catch the bastard yet,” I said. “A year, can you believe it? A year, and the fucker is still free.”

Still no reply, but I knew what Daniel would say. “Don’t give me that pacifistic bullshit,” I retorted, as if he were arguing with me. “They’ll catch the sick fuck who did this to you. I know they will. Then I’ll see him dead!”

Memories came back to me. I tried not to cry, but my eyes wouldn’t obey me.

The day Daniel was found dead, a year ago, the police couldn’t recognize the body. It was cut open, his organs exposed to the world. A DNA test identified him later, but at the time the only evidence to his identity was the crescent moon necklace. It was his favorite and he always wore it.

And still, a year later, it had never left him. He still wore it, even in death.

The police never caught the killer.

My knees hurt, and I was fresh out of tears. God must have some sick sense of irony, for the moonlight struck the aquamarine gem on my brother’s necklace so that it gleamed in my face. Daniel had always loved the moon.

It was a full moon the night he was murdered.

Someone knocked on the door. I jumped at the unexpected noise. Reluctantly, I blew out the candles and wiped the tears from my eyes. I tried to compose myself as I went to see who was there.

Cassy stood in the doorway, dressed in black. She wore a long black dress and too much makeup and eyeliner on her face. She painted her long fingernails black, and her lips a deep purple. Long, unruly curls of black hair came down well past her shoulders.

This was nothing new to me. Cassy always looked like she was going to a funeral, even when she was just going to the supermarket.

“I ... uh, wanted to see if you’re ok, Bishop,” she said, looking at me nervously. Her expression reminded me of a lost and confused puppy.

Who wore too much makeup.

“I’m fine,” I told her. “Really.”

“May I ... come in?” She asked hesitantly.

I wasn’t exactly thrilled by the idea. I had learned to tolerate Daniel’s heathen ways because he was my brother. I hadn’t extended that same tolerance to his friend.

But she was still his friend.

“Sure,” I said, standing aside to let her pass.

Cassy walked into my apartment and headed straight for Daniel’s shrine. She stood there, looking at it quietly. She looked like Death herself, clad in black and pale as a corpse. I stared at her for a full minute before it occurred to me to close the door.

I slowly walked over to her. She looked at me and smiled.

“I’m glad you still remember him,” she said.

I fought down a pang of irritation. I wanted to yell “of course I remember him,” or something else not so nice. She meant well, but sometimes Cassy wasn’t the best with words. I returned her smile instead.

“It’s been a year,” she said. “I thought you shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

There was something in her eyes, a guardedness that made me uncomfortable.

“Tonight’s the same as any other night,” I said, though I knew damn well it wasn’t.

“I know,” said Cassy. “But I miss him too, you know. I just wanted to be around him for a while.”

I sighed. How could I have been that inconsiderate? Cassy could really creep me out, but Daniel had loved her.

We stood there for God knows how long. It felt like an hour. I checked my watch, though, and saw that it had only been ten minutes. What was it about these uncomfortable silences that made minutes feel like forever?

Cassy looked uncertain, as if about to say something but trying to find the right words. “Has Daniel ever told you stories?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Yeah. Lots.”

“What kinds?”

I took a moment to remember all the crazy things he used to tell me. “Legends and folklore, mostly. Heathen myths and fairy tales.”

I didn’t know if Cassy found my use to the word “heathen” offensive. Frankly, I didn’t care if she did.

If she had, she didn’t show it. She looked so nervous, though. “Has he ever told you about spirits and demons?”

“Not really,” I said. “Dan loved that stuff, but he knew it offended me so he didn’t tell me much.”

Cassy sighed. “If you read demon stories, you’ll notice a common theme. A lot of them will give you things--money, power, fame--in exchange for something precious.”

I didn’t need to read pagan stories to know that, just turn on the TV. I shrugged.

Cassy kept staring at me. I didn’t like this woman much to begin with, and I was starting to like her even less. Something about her gaze made me nervous.

“There is this one story about a demon called the Vivisectionist. He can make wishes come true, but he ... dissects his victims, takes an organ, and leaves the body there.”

“Cassy,” I said cautiously. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because ...” She hesitated. “There’s something I have to tell you, Bishop. Your brother ... he ...”

“Out with it!” I demanded. She was really starting to get on my nerves.

“You remember when your boyfriend, Riley, died of AIDS?”

How could I forget? “Yeah.”

“You were infected, Bishop. You had AIDS.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or yell. “What are you talking about? I was tested just last month and I turned out negative. I never had AIDS.”

“You did,” Cassy insisted, “and it was killing you!”

“Then why am I negative?” I asked, trying not to smile at the thought of what crazy story Cassy was going to spout this time.

“Because your brother ... he.” Cassy suddenly looked determined, and even a little angry. “Because Daniel gave his life for you!”

“What?” I tried to control my temper. It’s one thing to tell a crazy story, but how dare she invoke my brother’s name like that? Has she no shame?

“You took a turn for the worst. Daniel couldn’t stand the thought of loosing you, like you lost Riley. So he invoked a demon--the Vivisectionist. The demon cured you, Bishop, but his price was--”

“Shut the fuck up!” I shouted. “I know you were his girlfriend and you two were into that godless shit, but I will not put up with you and your garbage! Daniel was murdered! How dare you? How fucking dare you turn him into one of your heathen stories?”

“It’s not a story!” Cassy shouted. “He invoked a demon to save you! It’s the anniversary of his death, Bishop. If you’re not careful--”

“Get out!” I screamed. “Get out of my apartment. Now!”

That very moment, the aquamarine stone of my brother’s necklace flashed with reflected moonlight.

“The necklace!” she exclaimed. She suddenly dove to snatch it up.

I didn’t know why I did it, but before she could touch my brother’s necklace I had my hand on her wrist, squeezing so hard that she moaned in pain. I had never been so angry before. She had some nerve--barging in here, defiling my brother’s name with her stupid stories, and now trying to steal his necklace.

“Get the fuck out!” I snarled, dragging her away from the shrine. “If you come back here, if you ever insult Dan again, I will fucking kill you! You hear?’

She didn’t answer, and that made me even madder. I shook her hard. “DO YOU HEAR ME!” I screamed in her ear.

“The necklace,” she said, her voice small and quivering. “You mustn’t wear it. Never put it on.”

I had heard enough. I pulled her roughly across the living room, opened the door, shoved her out, and slammed the door in her face, locking and bolting it shut.

I took a moment to catch my breath. What had just come over me? Looking back on it, Cassy didn’t really do anything that serious. But ...

The necklace. I couldn’t stand the thought of it being held in her filthy, unworthy hands. When she reached for it ...

I sighed and looked down at the floor, feeling more ashamed than ever. I’d have to apologize to Cassy, assuming she would accept any apology from me after what I just did. Still, I had to let her know I’m sorry. Not tonight, though--I had sworn not to leave my apartment today so I could honor Daniel. I had called in sick at work and canceled a dinner-date with Nathan, my current crush. I don’t know why, but when I woke up this morning it seemed like the thing to do.

Tomorrow, then. As for right now, I felt tired and drained. May as well go to bed.

On my way to the bedroom I stopped at Daniel’s shrine. I bowed my head and made a cross gesture over my chest. “Goodnight, Dan,” I said.

It may have been a trick of the light, but when I looked up at Dan’s picture, I could have sworn he was crying.

Sleep didn’t come easily. It never did since Riley died. It got even worse when Daniel died. I’d always think about them both. Sometimes I could almost feel Riley in bed next to me, his warm breath on my shoulder. Sometimes I even rolled over, expecting to see him laying beside me.

When Riley died of AIDS, Daniel never left my side. We’d stay up all night and I’d talk about him. Dan would talk about how witches viewed death. He believed in reincarnation. I admit, the thought of Riley being reborn into this world was a lot more comforting than the thought of him facing the Christian afterlife. I devoted my life to my faith, and even I was unsure of what awaited him. The preachers said he’d be sent to Hell for being gay. I think differently, of course.

Daniel told me it didn’t matter. He said that all sexuality was a gift from the Goddess; holy in its own way.

But now they’re both gone.

Loneliness crept up on me. I could no longer stand being in this big bed, which felt so empty now. I got up and dressed myself, trying not to think of dead boyfriends and brothers. Maybe a drink of whiskey would help, and some light reading. I checked the alarm clock on my nightstand. It was 1 AM.

I left the bedroom and headed for the liquor cabinet in the living room.

Then I saw something, a flash of light in the corner of my eye. I turned and looked at Daniel’s shrine. It was the same as I had left it. But ...

The necklace. Daniel’s favorite crescent moon necklace with its round aquamarine gem. I couldn’t help but stare at it. There was no light save for dim glow of faraway streetlights through the window, yet the aquamarine flash light into my eyes.

God it was so beautiful, so precious. It was the only thing of Daniel’s I had left, save his ashes. I wanted it. I suddenly yearned to touch it, to pick it up and wear it just once. Maybe if I wore Daniel’s favorite necklace it would be as if he were still alive.

I remembered Cassy’s words, and suddenly I was afraid. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt a sense of dread, as if something terrible were about to happen.

“Bitch,” I muttered, shaking my head to clear it of Cassy’s heathen gibberish. The necklace was mine now, bequeathed to me by Daniel--he had told me one night that if he died he wanted me to have it. She had no right to tell me what to do with it.

I walked slowly, hesitantly, towards Daniel’s shrine. I felt tingly all over. I knelt down and looked at the golden crescent moon. Daniel had once told me that the aquamarine represented the Earth, and the moon represented the lunar cycle. All I knew was that it was beautiful.

It felt so wrong, though. In a year, I had never removed the necklace. Not once.

But it was mine.

With trembling hands, I reach out to pick it up. The metal felt cool to the touch. I took a deep breath, then put the necklace around my neck.

I could feel the weight of the crescent moon on my chest. It felt so good. My body felt alive. My pulse was racing and my heart was pounding. I was wide awake, filled with so much energy with no clue of what to do with it.

It was like that day when I had the fever. Daniel had taken me to his house and put me in his bed. I felt so weak then; so nauseous. I could barely stand, and I was so afraid. Daniel was at my side, telling me that everything would be alright. He told me not to worry; he had a plan that was going to make everything all better.

That night he gave me his necklace and told me to wear it. Then ...

I woke up in my own apartment a few days later, and the police told me he was dead.

I saw my door open. A shadow slip into the living room. A wraith-like being in flowing black robes. It was coming for me. Its breath, its putrid, stinking breath, flowed over me, cold as a winter chill. Its face was pale and gaunt like a demon from Hell.

It was Death.

“Bishop,” Death said. “Give me the necklace.”

It wanted my brother’s necklace. My precious keepsake.

I backed away from the creature, huddling into the corner with my knees up to my chin, trembling. It was so cold.

“Bishop, please!”

“No!” I shouted. “Get away from me! Leave me alone!”

It kept getting closer ... I could hear its wretched breath, hear the floor groaning with each step it took. I started to cry.

Death came for Riley. Death had taken Daniel away.

And now it wanted me.

With a pale, bony hand, Death reached for the crescent moon on my chest.

I screamed, and everything went black.

I opened my eyes. The sunlight made me shut them, then slowly open them again. I was in my living room, lying on the floor, naked. My head hurt, and my bladder was about to explode. Without thinking, I got up and rushed to the bathroom. When I was done I dressed myself in blue jeans, a white shirt, a denim jacket, and sneakers.

The memory of last night came back to me. Death had stood in the living room with me, and yet I still lived. My hands shook; I was sweating, and my chest heaved.

“No,” I said to myself. “Couldn’t be.”

I must have gotten drunk and had a bad dream. It’s not the first time I sat naked in the living room and drank myself into oblivion. It was the only thing that kept me sane when Daniel passed away. Fresh air, breakfast, and a good jog would clear my head. Then I’ll forget bad dreams.

I checked my alarm clock. It was 7 AM. I didn’t have to work today, which gave me time to patch things up with Nathan for canceling yesterday.

I left my apartment and walked down the hallway. When I passed Cassy’s apartment, I suddenly remembered the things I’d said to her last night. Now was as good a time as any to apologize. Cassy’s an early bird, so she was probably awake now.

When I knocked on the door, it slowly moved inward. It hadn’t been closed all the way. This was unlike Cassy; she always kept it locked.

“Cassy?” I called. “You in there?”

No answer. Something didn’t feel right.

I stepped into her apartment, flinching when I saw the pentagram, strategically placed on the wall to be seen when one entered. Aside from that, her place was surprisingly normal, like any other apartment I’ve been in.

She was nowhere to be found.

Finally I came to her bedroom. I didn’t like the idea of going in there, but it was the only room I hadn’t checked yet. My heart pounded when I touched the doorknob. Anxiety overwhelmed me. I didn’t want to open that door or go into that room.

Slowly, I opened the door and peered inside.

My mouth went dry.

There was so much blood. It was like something out of a horror movie. Even as I stood there, I couldn’t believe that this was real.

A body lay on the bed, cut open like a frog in a middle-school science class. I knew it was Cassy. Her skin had been peeled away, and her organs lay exposed to the world. There was blood everywhere.

Just like Daniel.

I couldn’t take it. I bent forward and threw up on the floor.

And then I noticed a sparkle of light in Cassy’s limp hand, dangling from a silver chain. Careful not to touch her hand, I pulled the chain from her grip.

It was my brother’s necklace.

I stared at the golden crescent moon in disbelief. How had Cassy gotten it? How ...

I remembered last night, when Death reached out for the necklace with a pale hand.

“No!” I shouted, running from the room. I grabbed the nearest phone and dialed 911. The operator could barely understand me. I practically shouted into the phone, talking faster than I thought a human tongue was capable of.

“Just hold on. The police will be there shortly,” the operator said.

With that, I hung up the phone. I only made it a step before my knees buckled and I was on the floor, crying loud enough for everyone in the building to hear.

It was like Daniel all over again.

Dan had died the same way. I had found my brother in his bed too, surrounded by police, when I went to his place to thank him for doing whatever he did that got rid of my fever.

It wasn’t long before the neighbors came. Then the police. I stayed on my knees the whole time, refusing to let anyone comfort me.

It was the same sick fuck who had killed my brother. I knew it. The bastard had taken away someone else on the anniversary of my brother’s death. Who was this person? Why did he take such delight in torturing me?

As I knelt there, crying, I swore I’d get the prick who did this, and kill him myself.

"The Vivisectionist" by Jason Hill. All rights reserved.