After taking Reverend Nicks’ left foot, Marilyn took his right. Two weeks later, the wound had healed, so she said, “today, I am going to take your hands. Not one at a time, but both. It would be a little difficult to strangle someone with no hands, wouldn’t you think?” She didn’t even flinch when Reverend Nick said, “you have been calling me a monster. Who’s the monster now?”
Every month, Marilyn took another piece of Reverend Nick. His lower legs, his upper legs, his lower arms and finally, his upper arms were taken. She carefully attended to each amputation to insure its proper healing. Only twice did she have to shock his heart back into rhythm.
Now he lay there, just a torso and a head. His limbs rested in the new flower garden she had planted in the back yard, and had proved to be nice fertilizer for the azaleas that rested on top of each piece of him.
As she removed the straps from his chest, she told him that he could try to maneuver himself off of the table, but when he hit the concrete floor, he was likely to dislodge his feeding tube and the waste bags.
“If you were to manage to get off the table and onto the floor, that’s where you will stay until the day you die,” she said. “I can still take from you, whether on the table or on the floor, but I would advise you to stay on the table.”
Again, she looked at him and smiled as she said, “a body cannot suffer in sweet repose, and suffer you will.”
As she walked out she said, “tomorrow, I have a surprise for you. Sweet dreams.” The next morning, Marilyn went downstairs and was almost expecting to see him on the cold, hard floor, but he was still on the table.
“Good morning,” she said. “After careful consideration, I have decided to let you keep your tongue. I think it necessary for things like, shall we say, begging, pleading and of course, your pathetic lying. But, I am going to take your eyes today. Both of them. I will be the last thing you ever see, and I want you to remember that I was the one who took everything from you. After I take your eyes, I am going to puncture your eardrums.”
Several hours later, Marilyn put the eyes into a plastic bag, and to further terrorize Reverend Nick, whispered, “sleep well. Think about tomorrow. I was the last thing you ever saw, and my words will be the last words you ever hear.”
The next morning, just as she was about to go downstairs, there was a knock on her door. When she opened it, Sheriff Dodd was standing there, and asked if he could come in. Marilyn swallowed hard and said, “of course.” As she led him into the living room, she noticed the door that led downstairs to the silent room, was slightly ajar.
Sheriff Dodd said, “Marilyn, sit down. I need to talk to you about something.” Marilyn, trying to pull herself together, offered Sheriff Dodd a cup of coffee.
“No thank you,” he said. “I’ll get right to the point.” She could feel her pulse quicken, her face flush and wondered if she said “okay” out loud.
He didn’t mince words. He said, “Marilyn, we’ve got him. We’ve got the man who murdered Erica. I don’t know if you remember him, but he was the janitor at the church. He was pulled over last week, drunk and weaving all over the road. He’s in custody right now, waiting to be formally charged. We got a warrant to search his car, and found Ericas’ panties, and her DNA in the trunk of his car. I guess he thought he would get away with it, because everyone blamed Reverend Nick. But, we have a full confession. By the way, have you seen Reverend Nick? I think he needs to know.”