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Accident

A black plastic bag fell into the water with a huge splash. Bouncing off the bottom, it quickly floated to the surface and then started moving with the river’s current. They watched it in silence until the bag disappeared from their sight under the bridge where they were standing.

“Shame... She had a nice ass.” Sziliana put a cigarette in her mouth and pulled out a lighter.

Ivo stood with a blank face, staring at the water. He snapped back to reality with the rustling of a pack of cigarettes that the parrot was shaking in front of his face.

“Want one?”

“No. Thanks”

Sziliana shrugged, as if to say "whatever,” because her mouth was occupied by the cigarette she was lighting. Both fell silent. Eventually, Ivo sat on the edge of the bridge, dangling his legs and hunching over as he usually did. Szili quickly followed suit.

“By the way, you know you have to stop doing this, right? It’s the third time this year…”

“Get off my ass, alright? It was an accident.”

She turned her head toward him, frowning. “Accident?! She didn’t use the safeword or something?”

“I strangled her.” He looked at her too, with an agitated voice, as if the situation were obvious. "Also, you know my ears are fucked.”

“... Damn, you’re right.”

They took a brief break from talking. They looked around as if nothing had happened. At this hour, even in this city, the streets were empty. Although it might have been due to the particular stretch of road they were on — an old, cracked bridge with broken railings. Few people used it anymore, as there was a brand new, well-lit one just a street away. It was much more practical to build a completely new bridge than to demolish the old one where the two were now.

They matched the bridge well. They liked coming here, usually with a supply of beers, sometimes without. Often, just after they had blown the rent money on drinks or in a brothel. Though sometimes they came here after getting into a nasty fight, all bruised and with broken noses. Sziliana would always complain then that they ruined her new clothes and, above all, disfigured her face for the next week. Ivo would just listen; his bloody nose didn’t stand out much against his red hair, so he pretended it didn’t hurt. This one time, however, they were here for a different reason. They usually disposed of the bag elsewhere, but this time they came here. Neither of them knew why, but they didn’t intend to talk about it.

“Bro, know what? I wouldn’t worry!” The parrot patted her friend on the shoulder. “This is the third time, so for sure they’ll be looking for a new serial killer now.”

Ivo looked at her, puzzled.

“And that helps me how, exactly?

“Oh, Ivo, you’re so slow in the head! Think about it: whores, aged twenty to twenty-five, goths, seemingly in random locations, in black bags, massacred and tortured before death. It sounds so cinematic! Such killer must have had a tough relationship with his mother and now takes it out on chicks, so wronged by fate, oh!” Here, she clenched her fist with a glint in her eye. “Still, deep in his heart, he wishes to be caught, so he leaves clues and plays a game with cops!”

Sziliana dramatically threw her arms up, then leaned back, landing with a thud on the cold pavement. Ivo didn’t seem thrilled by this performance. He turned to her for a moment, watching her fidget, but then went back to staring at the dirty, sewage water in the river. She, however, didn’t seem to need her friend’s visual attention, as she continued.

“And then, as they finally caught me…” Wait, ‘me?’ Ivo quickly shifted his gaze to Szili. Since when did this turn into her personal fantasy? “They’d take me to trial, and there would be crowds of my fans outside the court, shouting how hot I am!” Her eyes were half-closed, her hands on her cheeks, and her body constantly wriggling with excitement.

He sighed loudly and turned his head forward. He really missed whiskey right now. No ice, so it wouldn’t get watered down too much, unless it was chilled some other way, then maybe. Seeing his expression, the parrot seemed to have a moment of self-reflection, which was incredibly rare for her.

“Hey, c’mon”. She launched up and looked at the demon. “I’m just trying to cheer you up, you know?” She nudged him with her elbow and smiled warmly at him. Her eyebrows twitched slightly.

Ivo rolled his eyes and shook his head in disapproval, but it was visible in his eyes that Sziliana’s little show had lifted his spirits, even if he didn’t want to show it. Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but it was definitely much better than yesterday. Yesterday, when Sziliana came home late. Completely drunk, her shirt crumpled, and her face covered in numerous lipstick marks, because she didn’t have the energy or care to wipe them off. She had just come from a party at Cyndia’s huge house, which was filled with her girlfriends that day, so it was obvious the woman invited the parrot. After all, they loved her company, and she loved their attention.

Closing the door behind her, all she saw was her roommate. Sitting on the couch with a bottle in hand. Staring ahead, though the TV was off.

“Bro, you okay?” She asked, taking off her inappropriately high heels, in which she still walked flawlessly, no matter how much her head was spinning.

When she approached him, Ivo slowly turned his head towards her. Unfazed, as usual. But his eyes had huge dark circles, as if he hadn’t slept in a week. He made a smooth motion with his hand near his nose, as if savoring the aroma of a fine dish, simultaneously urging his friend to do the same. She inhaled the air, quickly choking on it.

A sharp, biting smell hit her nostrils, striking with such force that all the alcohol instantly evaporated from her body. She knew it all too well. It couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. Blood.

She asked what happened; how; where; when. He just rolled his eyes behind him, towards the ajar door of his room. She went there. Her breathing was uneven, like before an exam, though it wasn’t her first time. She flung the door open with a swoosh. Through the light streaming into the room from behind her, she saw her on the floor. Dressed in—what might have been an hour ago—a black, short, tight dress. Black hair, cut evenly and straight. Now messily scattered, sticking to her twisted, blue face, with provocative makeup running from tears. Her arms were covered in tattoos, which were unreadable due to the wounds. She would have been really pretty if she were alive. Sziliana felt a lump in her throat. She looked away. She hated looking at dead women. Her type was definitely the ones with a pulse and breathing.

The body spent the night behind the couch. Washed in the shower and comfortably wrapped in a black garbage bag. Ultimately ending on the bridge, launched into the water.

“So, we go? We’ve still got work today.” She said. The demon looked at her, as if desperately trying to remember what it was about. Nothing. She kept talking. “I told you, Cyndia has some friend, who might have something for us.”

Sziliana tossed the cig butt ahead. It quickly got lost somewhere in the gray water. Ivo sighed heavily and started getting up from the edge of the bridge, quickly pushing away thoughts of dropping into the water. He really would have preferred to go home now and get a good night’s sleep.

“It’ll be a quicky, I promise! We just need to give someone a beating, and that’s it! And it’s at that club we were looking at recently; you’ll have a drink and feel better, mm?"