Chapter 5

I kept digging. Deeper and deeper. Even when my hands became blistered, even while my breath started to fail me, even when the light of the moon was obscured and I could no longer see, I kept digging. I needed to fix it. I needed to mend this feeling or it would keep eating away at me.

When I finally heard the thunk of the shovel hitting wood, I halted before continuing more voraciously. The blood on the shovel's handle made the last bit of digging difficult but I kept going. When I finally revealed the entirety of the coffin, I threw the shovel up back onto the lawn I had dug into.

I opened the casket and saw it. A stranger who was posing as my mother. An imposter who wore an incorrect mask. I pulled from my pocket the small hammer I had brought with me. I stared into the face that wasn't my mothers and I started cracking away at the falsities. It was similar but incorrect. Her face was different. Her face was not the same as I remembered and I needed to make it right.

I struck her temple, the brittle plaster used to mask the hole I remembered gave way. I was careful though, precise in my destruction. It needed to be the same, and to do that required an accuracy that was considerate and precise. I meticulously removed the parts that hid my mothers face, her broken skull, torn open on the right side, the bits of hair that tangled along her left. I removed the false eye that was placed and wiped the makeup that hid her features. I was careful to move everything as I remembered it. I needed to see my mother as I remembered her, I needed to make sure she was correct before she changed any further.

The final bit was her expression. The half opened eye that remained, the brow that furrowed into a look of sorrow and disappointment. The look she gave me when I lived with her as a child in Mexico, the same look she gave me when I left to go work with my dad, the last look she gave me when I found her corpse crumbling in that crash. It was the look she always gave to me who couldn't live up to her expectations.

"Donovan! What are you doing!?" I could hear my father. "Fucking Christ, Donovan!" But it was okay now. The urge was gone. The comfort I felt right now was bringing forth the drowsiness that had been kept at bay. I could see the sun peeking from above me, illuminating my work. My mother was back, and I could finally see her off.

"It's okay, mom. I fixed you."

—-

I was reading through the file left open by Jeremy while drawing.

The file contained what I had assumed already. My father and I had died in this world due to the machinations of my father's previous employers. In my world it was my mother and brother who were mistakenly murdered, here though, the operation they put together seems to have worked well for them.

The file highlighted all the people involved, probably as a safety net of mutual destruction. These were people I already knew about. People I had already seen dead in my world, their names surfacing like a tide. Thankfully, I felt no urges towards these people. There were no photos or videos showing me their imperfections, nothing showing me that they needed correcting. I simply read as much as I needed to fill in the gaps of what had transpired with these folk over the ten years I had been dead. These people, much like Jesse and Jeremy, were thriving after I and my father's demise.

Honestly, I didn't feel anything towards them. All the people that had done me wrong were those from my world. Here, they were simply criminals with no direct connection to me at all. That being said, not much of the main operations after my death were detailed in Jeremy's files. It seems that after my death the two siblings were allowed their freedom from the clutches of my father's old partner.

That's not to say that Jesse and Jeremy weren't doing bad shit. Jeremy was still dealing drugs through this club, albeit a lot less than before, but now, he and his sister were also pimping out young guys to powerful women from Hollymood, this world's Hollywood apparently. Their main exported drug seemed to be that liquid ecstasy Jesse tried to get me with. Where they got these dudes for their sex trafficking, I don't know, but the point was that these two had retained their malicious entrepreneurial spirit.

I doubt it would matter if the twins were bad people or not, but I suppose I'm preferable to disposable folk that could be cut from society without any moral qualms. I could spin it in a way that shows I was doing people a favor, but really I was just doing this for me.

"Uugh." I heard Jeremy moaning in the chair I had him tied to. His arms and legs were tied using zip ties to a chair in the office. His mouth was gagged with his own socks and I made sure I placed the thumbtacks I found inside the sock so he wouldn't get to biting his way out so easily.

"Good timing. I just finished your portrait." He opened his eyes groggily, the pupils focusing on me after a while before snapping open.

"Mmgh! Uggh!" He was struggling within the bindings, the gag tied around his mouth causing his muffled cries when he bit down. With the music as loud as it was I doubt anyone could even hear him.

"How do you like it? It's how you should look." I turned the picture I had finished so he could see it.

"Mmmmmmngh?! Mrgggh!" He started thrashing desperately in the chair. I had to hold him in place so he wouldn't tip over. When he settled down, I turned the picture back around and admired my finished work.

"I drew it from memory so I know it's perfect, but I guess artistic opinion isn't on your mind right now." Picture was of Jeremy, his eyes gouged out, his jaw broken with his tongue pulled further than it should and the word 'Liar' engraved on his forehead. The splotches of blood on his face were deliberately trailing down like tears and his bangs were cut so the word 'Liar' could be displayed openly.

"Mmnph, mph, mph." He was sniveling now, snot and tears and some piss leaking from him.

"." If I remember right, my father and our team had killed Jeremy in a way that made it look like it was his jealous sister who had actually done him in. This was how I remembered him, so this is how I drew him, a physical piece of affirmation.

"Don't worry too much." I swiveled my chair around to look at the items I had collected. Scissors, zip ties, rags, napkins, pens, and some leftover thumbtacks, all things I found in this office. I grabbed the rags and napkins. "I don't plan on making you suffer, much, but I can give you a few moments to think about your life." With most of them in hand, I started stuffing them along the right side of his clothes.

He didn't struggle. His eyes were downcast so I couldn't see his expression but I could tell from his trembling shoulders, he was scared. The same kind of 'scared' he was in my world.

"Honestly, I don't have anything against you." I turned again and grabbed the scissors. When I turned back he was staring at my hand. "If the two of you had been more careful, I wouldn't have ever seen you." I started cutting his hair to match what I remembered. It wasn't hard, but I did match my cuts with the dimensions I drew on his portrait. "It's just y'all's bad luck, I guess."

"Mnnm mm!?Mmnmph mmn gugh!" He started struggling again, almost made me make a mistake.

I could even see blood coming from the sides of his mouth, probably cut himself on the gag, the fucking idiot. he was getting blood where there didn't need to be. I grabbed him by the jaw.

"You're angry." I stared at his eyes which were dilated from the exertion. He wasn't going to calm down. Probably spiking on adrenaline. "I can understand that."

"Ugh kfgh mn mnmph!" Him struggling more in my grip only made me frown. "Kuhk!?" So I stabbed him with the scissors.

"But I can't have you moving too much while I work." The scissors went deep into his right artery. I made sure to twist so I could widen the wound.

"Mmmmm! Mn mmrmn, mnph!" He was panicking now, but that only made the blood come out faster.

"I thought I might give you a few moments, but I need this to go perfect. I'm the kind of guy who can't tolerate a mistake at this point. Just makes me feel worse, y'know?"

"Mmmnph…hfmmn…" He struggled weakly for a while. I watched the blood gush out of his neck, traveling down the rags and napkins, my attempt at making less of a mess. What was left fell down into the metal cabinet I had placed under him.

"Y'know Jeremy, I'm not sorry I get to do this to you." Jeremy's eyes were lolling around in his head, trying to focus on me but falling short. I could see the color draining from his face, the clarity of the change in full view. His face was approaching that thin, pale gauntness that I remembered. It took a little longer than I thought, though. He must've put on a little more weight than I remembered.

"Umnph…" Jeremy groaned weakly before dropping his head. He died. There wasn't much to it and I didn't feel anything other than this fucking need to fix him. It was when I tilted his head back so I could finally start again that I heard a voice.

"W-what are you…doing?" It was soft and light, not accusatory in any sense, but also not as fearful as one would expect, especially considering what I was doing. I didn't turn around, or rather couldn't. Seeing this face all incorrect had my urges overpower my reason. I just kept working.

I began with his eyes, hoping he had enough blood to create the bloody tears that I remembered. I used the same pair of scissors to scoop out his eyes, dragging them out and cutting the stalk. It was supposed to be intentionally messy and the scissors helped in that regard. I just needed to make sure I cut in the right spot. Blood flowed from his eyes, though more stifled compared to his neck.

With every cut and tear, I could feel whoever was watching creeping closer towards me. I wouldn't do anything to them, not while I was feeding the urge, but I knew if I got obstructed in any way, I would do something bad to them. Something I wouldn't be able to control.

The path the tears traced, as they flowed down his face, were thinner than what I remembered. I had to dip some blood on the scissors, from the pool of blood I collected in the cabinet, and drip it myself. I finished his eyes, gouged out, eyelids torn perfectly, and bloody tears. We did this to him, in my world, because he was constantly checking out other women. It made sense to frame his sister for this if she'd finally gotten fed up with him staring at other girls. I'm not sure how it'll be received here.

I started working on the word on his forehead. I cut his hair, making sure I matched the dimensions of the picture I had put behind him. I was deliberate in making his hair appear haphazard, like a chainsaw had run through it. This part took longer, I wasn't used to styling hair like this, so I had to be careful.

The person creeping up on me had, at some point, stood beside me. They were watching me work. Even if I didn't turn to look at them, I could tell they were facing the body. Their breath kept hitting my arm.

I wanted to turn around and look at them, but I couldn't pull away when I was so close to fixing Jeremy. Between my curiosity and the urge that was close to burning a hole in my stomach, I chose the latter.

I broke off the pair of scissors from one another, leaving the single blade. I began to engrave the letters into his forehead, hearing slight moans from behind me as I did so. Their breath was heavier, hotter. It rode the line, just shy of obtrusive but well into uncomfortable. They weren't distracting, only unnatural.

I was careful while etching the letters. My fingers moved along the face I remembered, tracing the letters into this clean flesh. The body was stiffer and more difficult to modify. In my world my father had done this while Jeremy was alive, engraving the word onto him vengefully.

Jeremy and Jesse were responsible for receiving the merchandise my father and I smuggled. When my fathers employers turned on us, Jeremy and Jesse were the first to abandon us and even went so far as to lie about the amount of merchandise they had been receiving. The fact that my father engraved the word liar onto Jeremy's head was more than an attempt to frame Jesse, it was our warning to everyone who'd done us wrong. That word, 'liar', was our declaration, and Jeremy was the messenger.

I got caught in my memories for a second and finished engraving the word before I knew it. Whoever it was watching me, had stayed silent for most of my work, only creeping up closer to me. At some point they had put their face so close to mine we were practically cheek to cheek. It's almost like they wanted to see through my eyes as I worked.

I ignored them as much as I could. I needed to focus on the last part the most. Breaking Jeremy's jaw was something my father did with a device. I didn't have that so I had to figure out a way to do this myself. I began to think about how I could accurately force open his jaw with just my hands, but everything I thought of had significant risk of damaging what was already fixed. In hindsight I should have probably started with this first. My fault, I guess, for following how I'd seen it done in my world. If only I had an extra pair….

"Hey." I looked toward the person who had been watching me since I stabbed Jeremy. "You want to help me?" With a reason now, I memorized this person's features. Long brown hair tied into a long ponytail at the back with bangs cut just above the eyes. This was a woman who any man would call beautiful. She was shorter than most women, reminding me of something close to a small animal, like a squirrel.

Everything about her told me she was harmless, all but one thing, her eyes. Hazel eyes with a uniqueness I'd only seen in one other person so far. Just like the doctor, Aina Imai, the irises of this woman's eyes had the bottom third replaced with a completely different color. It was like an amber ring had a third cut out and replaced with glimmering gold.

"You want me…?" The girl ended her sentence abruptly. She was staring up at me as she spoke, using her eyes to meet mine.

"I want you to help me, yea." I was irritable and in my head I knew my words were sharper than intended, but I spoke them anyway. This needed to be done and I needed help doing it, but this girl was either being coy or air-headed and I didn't have time for either.

"Okay! I'll help!" Her reply was chipper and excitable, somewhat off putting given the situation. This woman felt weird to me, and I was the one who asked her to help me mutilate a body.

"Hold the head in place." I showed her where to place her hands, giving her some napkins so she wouldn't touch anything directly. "Hold it tight." I placed my right palm on Jeremy's chin and pushed down as hard as I could. Loud snapping sound came after. The jaw was done, I just had to move it into position now that it was dislocated.

"Hand me that scissor half." All I had left to do was pull his tongue further out. When the girl gave me the scissors, I could feel the vindication of what I was nearing. I cut the small strip of flesh that kept his tongue attached to the floor of his mouth and pulled. It was complete.

"Done?" I admired my work. The face Jeremy should have, was complete. The euphoric relief and the fatigue that goes along with it had me slumping onto the chair behind me.

"It's done." I knew I had another face with Jesse that I needed to fix, but it seems like I have some time to prepare for it. My head is clear enough to think and looking around, I made a hell of a mess. "Haaah."

"Are you okay?" I saw this woman leaning her face close to mine. She looked like she was exaggerating her expression like some kind of third rate actor, but she was pretty enough to make it less awkward. Just like Aina Imai, I couldn't help thinking this woman was too good for a guy like me. This kind of girl usually wound up with some billionaire who pampered her to hell and back, but I was just some guy she saw murder someone. Why does she seem so fine with this? Who the hell even is she?

"How did you even get in?" I was sure I locked the door behind me and there wasn't anyone here when I crept up on Jeremy. The door is still locked too from what I can tell.

"I was," she looked back and, tracing her eyesight, I finally noticed the small locker in the corner of the room that was open, "I was hiding." She looked sheepish, like she'd done something bad and, again, I couldn't help but think she was exaggerating her expression and mannerisms. Is she just acting the part so I don't do something to her? She has to realize what kind of situation this could turn into.

"Alright." She wasn't someone I knew nor needed to fix and, more importantly, I was too tired. She must've gotten here before me, but I'm not interested enough to care why. Looking at Jeremy's face didn't make me uncomfortable anymore, but the scene around him made me feel lazy. I'd rather go into hiding than deal with hiding a body again, plus making sure his face stayed right while moving him would be a pain. I was too damn tired. "Let's get out of here," checking my watch, it was already four in the morning, "we only have a bit until people start coming in."

"But the body. What about evidence?"

"Don't worry about it, any evidence on him is mine. If they do end up catching you for something I'll just tell them I didn't know you were in here, so it'll all fall on me." She helped me fix him, the least I can do is take her blame.

"I see." She seemed to be thinking about something, but I was too exhausted to care.

"There's a bathroom in Jesse's room. You can wash up there before heading out." Her hands were bloody, but soap would clear that up enough for her to leave. I was covered in blood so I would need to figure something else out.

"Jesse…"

"Right." She followed me down the hall into the room Jesse was passed out in. "Right there, be quick so I can clean up too." I need to figure out what to do next.

"You two…did it?" I turned around to see her staring at Jesse's naked body. Jesse was snoring with a content look on her face, but now that I'd stayed the urge for the moment, I couldn't keep up the face that I'd used to hide my nausea. Whenever I saw her incorrect face the bile I held down, no longer with the added strength from my need to fix, began to rise in my throat. I'm sure my face was far from pleasing and the words I spoke came out unintentionally truthful.

"I wouldn't be able to stomach that," I ripped my eyes from Jesse's face and back toward the girl who looked at me blankly, "so no, we didn't do it." I walked towards the shower in the bathroom and turned it on. "Wash your hands and get out of here, people will be waking up soon." I needed to figure out how to get a gun, but I at least wanted to wash the blood off my body first.

—-

He was the one. I knew it now.

"If you're just going to stand there, then get out. You don't want to be here when people start waking up." He was worried about me, not like those fakes who I pay to stay, he is actually concerned. "Hey." He didn't look uncomfortable when he stared into my eyes. Not like every other person who isn't egg-born. "Are you fucking deaf?" He isn't pretentious or deceiving either, unlike me.

"I want to help you." My grandmother once told me about men like him, men with purpose. She told me they were a dying breed.

"You've done enough, just get out of here while you can."

"I want to help!" He was staring at me as I shouted this. He didn't look annoyed or angry, just confused and tired.

"What do you really want? There's nothing here for you to do and frankly lady, the fact that you aren't freaked out by what you saw is absurd enough as it is." My grandmother told me that men with purpose would spend their lives devoted to a task that could potentially destroy them, but that these men were the most loyal and loving a woman could find.

"I…?"

"What?" He stared at me still, without looking uncomfortable or disgusted.

"I like you!" My grandmother told me that if I ever find a man like that, I should do everything in my power to be seen. To make sure that the man could see past his task and make room in his heart for me.

"…"

"…"

"I'm not gonna lie, that's irrational, unjustified and makes me question the kind of person who can spout such a line after witnessing what I did."

"…"

"If that's all, then-"

"Let me prove it." My grandmother said it would be a daunting task, but from what I'd seen the reward was just as my grandmother had promised.

"What are you doing?" He walked over from the bathroom's door frame and watched as I typed away on my phone.

"Ah. I-I'm not telling on you or anything. I'm just," I intentionally made a cutesy face to gauge his reaction, "trying to help." He could tell. I could see in his face how he saw through my act. He saw through me, but didn't back away. No matter how potentially dangerous my actions were to him, he did nothing. When he spoke again he was staring straight at me. He was gauging my intent, I was sure. I knew because I had done the same for as long as I knew that being egg-born made others uncomfortable around me.

"…Sure, yea." His affirmation gave me thrills, shocks that ran through my body as he dared to place his trust in me. "If you can get me some clothes, I might not have to finish this tonight." He was planning on finishing this tonight? I looked at Jesse and remembered what I read on the file. The tragedy of his past. The description of his supposed death.

"Wait here." I ran towards the door that opened into the main area of the bar and dance floor. His bodyguard was still sitting there, upright, but I saw her eyes closed. I needed to stay calm but I could feel the heavy heat on my face. I was waiting near a table while keeping an eye on the door I exited from, dazedly remembering the events that had just transpired.

I had followed him and Jesse when I spotted them going into a back room. I was angry then, when I thought about how he hadn't even looked at me all day but was swooning over some old bitch with crows feet in her thirties. How could they just pretend I didn't exist? I waited for his bodyguard to leave and take a seat near the bar before I went past the door.

I didn't know which way to go so I went left and found Jeremy passed out with the computer highlighting a single name, Donovan Knoys. What I read was the reason he ignored me all day. He had been betrayed by Jesse and Jeremy. He didn't like or even want that shriveled plum, he wanted revenge.

I read that file in its entirety, how his father had worked for a cartel, how they had been ambushed, I even saw the pictures of the bodies, his and his father. I stared at the photos for far longer than I intended. I was so absorbed I didn't notice Jeremy starting to wake up. I had no time to leave and could only stay hidden inside the locker in the corner of the room.

The locker was stuffy and only had small slits enough for me to peek in one direction. I stared at Jeremy for several minutes as he read the files, the shock on his face must've been similar to mine because he began to visibly shake. Jeremy stood up before mumbling something. What followed was a pair of thick arms entering my field of vision before wrapping themselves around Jeremy's neck. Jeremy's face went white and I saw another face, his face, slowly approach Jeremy's ear. I could see his lips moving but I couldn't make out the words. Jeremy didn't last long after that, he quickly lost consciousness and I watched as Donovan Knoys, fully entered the space. What followed was something I couldn't forget.

My grandmother had always told me that our tastes were shunned by those of the lower class. My grandmother told me that we needed to hide what we were from others as much as possible. My grandmother told me that the hardest part of finding a husband was keeping this secret. But there was something my grandmother never told me. Something my grandmother never prepared me for. She never told me about this feeling, this deep desire and wanting.

I watched Donovan work. The way he cut into the body, the precision of each swipe. The artistry he held with each stroke. I watched Donovan as my insides began to burn, as the welling feeling started to take over my senses. I had begun to lose myself in those feelings and when my hand began to move, I remembered my grandmother's words. I needed to be seen. I needed to make him see me. I knew what he was doing, but I needed to try something. He hadn't looked at me at that point, and I needed him to. So I stepped out and spoke.

Fortunately or unfortunately, I was once again ignored but now I could see it all. Donovan's work was in clear view and I found myself creeping closer and closer to him as he continued. I walked as close as I could without disturbing him. I couldn't help the heavy breathing as my head had already erupted in ecstasy a few times as I watched him. It took all I had to keep my hands from moving while so close to him. I could feel how close he was getting to completion, he had drawn a portrait of Jeremy's face, of how wished Jeremy to look after he was done. It was a beautiful portrait and Jeremy was slowly turning into that beautiful form.

It was while I was thinking of how beautifully Jeremy would end up that he finally turned towards me. I'm sure I had an improper face when he finally acknowledged me. His eyes peered over me and my mounting tension nearly burst then and there. What he offered me was something I had, until then, only watched happen with my grandmother. It must have been fate that I shared my first experience with this man. I helped make Jeremy beautiful.

"Mistress…" I was taken out of my reverie at the sound of my subordinate's voice.

"Do you have them?"

"Yes, mistress." I grabbed the bag and checked the contents.

"Good. There's something else I need." I held my tongue for a moment while thinking about my next command. My grandmother would probably not approve of taking such a high risk without consulting her, but time was of the essence. "There's something you need to clean up in the back office. When everyone is gone, get to work on it and make sure all files relating to Donovan Knoys are destroyed. Also price some film together that makes it look like me and him were dancing all night."

"Understood." I waited for my subordinate to leave before checking Donovan's bodyguard again. She was still resting near the bar. I quietly waited for her to turn her head from the door before slipping inside again.

My grandmother had prepared me for meeting a good man, but she had never prepared me for meeting the perfect man.