Tires crunch on the snow as the car rolls to an abrupt stop. The engine is left running as three males emerge from within its bowels. Black balaclavas and dark snowsuits move as one to a spot a few feet away.
Steam rises from a red pool of blood. The fresh corpse lays haphazardly, a puzzled jigsaw. They gather around and the taller figure kneels beside it. Smooth streamline blade is unsheathed from a hidden pocket. The cadaver’s shirt is ripped away as steel sinks deep into the flesh.
“Is it whole?” One of them asks.
“Give me a second and we will see if Fuckface damaged the kill.” Warm air puffs expand onto the chilled air.
“Look man! I didn’t mean to! The shot was good!” Fuckface lights a cigarette with trembling hands. Though the trio has been outside only seconds, winter boasts a particularly brutal cold this year and frost quickly nudges the tips of his gloved fingertips.
“Shut up!” Hisses the man, dissecting. More steam releases from the body being sliced open. Bones crack as they are snapped out of the way. He carves out the heart and places it gently on the ground.
“Kevin, get the cooler. Fuckface, don’t touch anything!”
“On it, Devon.” Kevin strides back to the car. Boots trudging through the heavy ladened snow.
Devon’s hands do not shake. They are swift, steady and adept at what they do. Even in the frigid air.
The liver is extracted. Kevin returns and places it on ice inside the cooler alongside the heart. Next will come the lungs. This is where Devon stops.
He exhales with a hiss. “Motherfucker. You punctured the lungs.” The organs are tossed with disdain onto the ground.
Fuckface, stops smoking. His entire body shaking from cold and nerves. “It’s hard to hit a moving target Devon!” He whines.
Kevin punches him in the mouth and nose, Fuckface falls instantly.
“You do realize they pay us for undamaged organs right? They don’t want half a set, or a quarter of a set. They pay for the heart, liver, lungs, and kidneys. All from one body. And now you just fucking messed it up.” Devon bites his lips together, gritting teeth.
Fuckface rolls around on the snow covered ground in agony. Covering his face which bleeds profusely.
Devon stands slowly, walking over to Fuckface. “Lawrence, I gotta somehow replace what I lost. How do you suggest I do this, hmmmm?” He glances at Kevin nodding silently, then makes his way back to the carcass. Bends over, pulls out and unravels intestines.
There is a soft click, then a shot fires. It’s echo extra loud in the quiet surroundings.
Devon holds up another boning knife to Kevin. “Take his lungs. If we’re lucky, we’ll end up even on this one.”
Kevin holsters the gun back inside of his thick woolen coat. Grabs the knife and begins work on Lawrence.
“No Place For Mistakes” Written by ©®™ Atusha Avarus, Serial Writer
