All Good Things

Mark dropped the pliers and the tooth on the bed beside Maggie's cool, stiff body and the 31 other teeth that had recently called Daniel's mouth home. He leaned over and looked into the boy's blurry, rolling eyes.

"What are you doing?"

Mark slapped his face, the pasty blood from Daniel's mouth decorating the wall.

"Mark-"

He slapped him again.

"Dude-"

Mark unclasped his straight razor, held up Daniel's shirt by the collar and sliced it down the middle.

"Where's Maggie?"

Mark nodded. Daniel's eyes widened as he strained against the ropes strapped around his wrists and ankles, his torso writhing against the lifeless body beneath him. "Fuck-"

Mark relieved Daniel of his jeans and briefs with the razor and grabbed the boy's penis. It seemed even larger than the last time he'd sat on it. He put the razor to its base, his own erection trying its best to fill with more blood.

"No. Mark, why are you doing this? I love you-"

"There's no such thing as love-"

"Yes, there is-"

"Ha! You wouldn't know what love was if it fucking walked up to you and raped you as good as I raped her-"

"Mark-"

"What?"

"How'd you finish it?"

"Your favorite-"

"Oh." Daniel's pants lessened in frequency. "Do me the same way-"

Mark squeezed Daniel's limp penis in his hand and brought the straight razor to rest firmly on the hole on its tip. With a sigh, he dragged the smeared metal through its length till his knuckles were firmly ensconced against Daniel's scrotum and the small bedroom was thick with the boy's whimpering.

"You son of a bitch. I fucking hate you. I hope you die." Daniel gasped three or 4 times, the blood of his gums rattling in his throat. "You've got the smallest fucking dick in the world-"

"Hilaaaarious," said Mark. And he stuffed an enormous wad of toilet paper into Daniel's mouth. He squeezed the boy's nostrils together until the bed began to shake with violence, then he let go and lit a cigarette, gently placing the match on the mound of toilet paper. As the fire reached Daniel's lips, Mark threw his hands on the boy's twisting, veiny neck and pressed until the windpipe relented and all was still in the the room but the blood rushing to his penis.

He gathered up Daniel's teeth, his razor, and his pliers and shoved them into his pocket. With the care of a surgeon, he untied the ropes from the boy's extremities, then lit and positioned the remaining matches around the two teenagers on the twin bed. As he left his bedroom for the last time, he looked back at the growing blaze. "Yeah. Good times," he said, shrugging, and closed the door behind him.