The Collector

Jimmy walked through the darkness, a wooden box clenched in his hand. He’d been down here thousands of times before, and the lack of light was no issue as he navigated easily though inky stillness. Reaching his destination, he reached out and switched on a small lamp. The bulb flickered to life, its pale glow casting long shadows through the basement, and onto the old wooden table it rested on.

Jimmy placed the box down gently on the gouged and stained surface. His eyes wandered over each nick and dent and the old, brown stain marks. Every one told him a story, and he smiled to himself, his lips splitting to reveal his yellowed and rotting teeth.

Focusing back on the box, he gave it a small shake. A low clattering came from inside, and Jimmy couldn’t resist the urge to giggle. Inside were his most precious possessions. He’d started the collection almost accidentally at the age of 14. Her name had been Suzi, and she’d been a pretty girl. But he’d only taken one that time, fascinated by its perfection, even after he’d removed it. He’d cleaned it all up, polished it to perfection, and would spend hours sitting caressing it.

After the first, he couldn’t fight the temptation for more. Next there was the young boy from down the road. His were small and sharp, and Jimmy took 3 that time.

He lovingly ran a finger along the edge of the box as his mind continued to wander, remembering each person that had donated to his collection. His finger slid down to the latch, and carefully opened it, then lifted the lid of the box. The dull light of the lamp reflected off his dead brown eyes as he peered lustily at the contents.

Still focusing on his precious treasures, he opened the drawer in the table and reached inside. His hand crawled along the inside until it found the slim wooden handle it was looking for. Pulling it forth, he finally tore his eyes away from the box and looked at his next most precious possession. The head of the hammer was stained brown, from the large, blunt head to the sharp, clawed end.

“Mmmmm, Mr Smashy ….” Jimmy muttered to himself. Turning around, he shambled over to the chair in the furthest corner, and the lone figure sitting in.

He’d found her walking down the street, her mini skirt barely concealing anything. Her almost skeletal frame made the singlet she wore hang off her body, and from her blemished skin and lank, dead blonde hair, it was apparent that she was a drug user.

Now, she was tied to the chair, unconscious. Jimmy had learnt a long time ago that the conscious ones thrashed too much, and the screaming could draw unwanted attention. Once he’d convinced her to get into his car, it had been easy to slip her some chloroform as she had fumbled to undo the buckle on his pants. She’d gone out like a light.

He grabbed a handful of her greasy hair and pulled her head back. In her state she mouth hung open, and he could see the gums pulled back from her yellowed teeth.

He knew they weren’t perfect. Far from it, in fact. But he couldn’t help himself. He wanted more for his collection. Needed more! The greed was almost overwhelming, and Jimmy got an erotic sense of pleasure as he raised his hammer.

“MMMmmmm yeah, those may not be the most purdy teeth I seen, but I wants them anyway.”

He smashed the hammer down into the whore’s mouth, sending his little treasures flying. Again and again he brought the hammer down, the dull thud echoing in the small room. On the fifth swing there was a loud crack as her jaw snapped.

The swinging became frenzied as sweat beaded his forehead, and his breathing became more and more ragged. Each swing sent a wave of pleasure through his body until finally, he let out a long, loud moan, and collapsed forward onto the body.

Gasping for breath, Jimmy took a moment before standing. The woman’s face was now a red mess, smashed into pieces by blows from the hammer.

Quickly, Jimmy bent and started to collect the teeth that had been scattered across the floor in his frenzy. It had become an obsession, moving from wanting the perfect specimen, like Suzi’s lovely white molar, to this. Every little shard he could find he picked up, until his hand was almost full. Staggering over to the table, he dumped the teeth into his box, to join the rest of his collection. So many purdy teeth!

Turning once again to face the woman, he raised the hammer, this time turning it so the sharp, clawed end was facing forward.

“Riiight, time to get the rest of you lovelies out,” he giggled to himself, and started back across the room.