My Inner Voice Is A Scalpel

The entire Kingston family can hear my thoughts.
I, Dr. Avery Stone, the countrys top forensic pathologist, was finally brought back to the Kingston estate. They looked at my face, but recoiled from the lingering scent of formalin and disinfectant that clung to my lab scrubs.
My adopted sister, Seraphina, glided over in a twenty-thousand-dollar designer gown, her voice dripping with frail concern.
Oh, Avery, she whispered, her eyes wide. Daddy bought you so many new clothes. You should really change out of those. They look unlucky.
I gave her a long, cold look.
[A 'mean girl,' huh? Too bad the last one who tried this act on me ended up as a skull fragment soaking in a jar on my specimen shelf, her cranium neatly opened. On second thought, shes not even worth the dissection. Not even worth the gloves.]
A crash! My father, Arthur Kingston, president and CEO, shattered his prized hand-thrown ceramic mug on the marble floor. My older brother, Liam, a cardiac surgeon, sprang off the sofa, his face a sickening shade of purple.
He pointed a trembling finger at me.
[What is he staring at? I hear hes a doctor, too. Maybe I should send a referral for him to my lab sometime.]
My mother, Eleanor, simply rolled her eyes back and collapsed onto the Persian rug. The three of them looked like they were seconds away from collapsing entirely.
1
My mother came to after someone administered smelling salts. The moment she saw me, her entire body began to shake uncontrollably. Liam braced himself against the wall just to stay standing.
Seraphina drifted toward me, her hand outstretched, trying to take mine. I subtly shifted, making her miss. She pulled her hand back, the perfect, fragile expression fixed in place.
Ive already finished decorating your room, sister. Come see if you like it.
I followed her, glancing into the room. It was done up in a cloying pink, the height of teenage-girl style, right next door to hers. The air hung heavy with a sickly sweet perfume.
I frowned, the scent catching the back of my throat. I wont be staying here. I dont like the aesthetic.
Liam was about to launch into a lecture about my ingratitude when my internal voice cut him short.
[Bubblegum pink? The cleanup would be a nightmare. Pink shows bloodstains too clearly. No, I need something discreet. The storage room downstairs is better. No windows, far from their rooms. Much less chance of a scent complaint when I get a late-night delivery.]
Liams flushed face instantly turned chalk-white.
My father, Arthur, his voice a ragged whisper, finally spoke. Then then youll take the storage room for now. Ill have the staff clean it out
I cut him off again. Dont bother. Ill do it myself. Just make sure the plumbing is good for a separate shower stall.
[And the drainage system needs to be reliable. I don't want to block the pipes when I'm flushing out tissue fragments. That would be messy.]
My father squeezed his eyes shut and swayed slightly, barely managing to nod his consent.
Seraphina didnt notice the others bizarre reaction. A flicker of triumph crossed her eyes; she thought I was being deliberately exiled to the damp, musty storage closet for irritating her parents.
I ignored them all and headed straight for the storage room tucked away on the first floor. I shoved the door open. A rush of old mildew and damp dust hit me.
I tapped the wall with satisfaction.
[Decent insulation. The sound of the bone saw shouldn't bother them while they sleep.]
Just outside the door, my mother, who Liam had managed to steady, heard that last thought. Her eyes rolled back for the second time, and she fainted again, crumpling without a sound.
The atmosphere at dinner was as dead as a morgue.
The long dining table was laden with expensive cuisine, yet no one dared to touch a fork. The family sat stiffly, perfectly upright.
A crime report played on the large plasma screen.
...Earlier today, police discovered the remains of a dismembered male body in the suburbs. The brutality of the act suggests an extremely disturbed perpetrator. Police are pursuing all leads...
The image on the screen was heavily pixelated, but the scattered outline was still unsettling.
Seraphina dramatically covered her eyes, leaning weakly against my mother. Oh, its just so awful. The criminals these days are so cruel.
I stared at the screen, my brow furrowed in concentration.
[Oh. This is my guy. They're only releasing the news now? The Bureaus internal comms are moving faster than the local precinct on this one.]
[Poor bastard. I remember his file. He suffered. They put him on a stimulant cocktail. Kept him conscious, start to finish. He watched himself being fileted, piece by agonizing piece.]
Liam, the surgeon, could clearly picture the horrific scene. His stomach churned. He shoved his chair back, rushed to the restroom, and began to retch violently.
Startled by the noise, my mothers head snapped sideways, and she fainted for the third time that day.
Chaos erupted. Seraphina, confused, looked around, wondering why her family had suddenly developed such a weak constitution that a news report could send them into hysterics.
My father, Arthur, desperately tried to maintain composure. He was shaking as he reached for a glass of water to calm his nerves.
At that exact moment, a loud, piercing wail of a siren cut through the dead silence of the room.
Wee-ooo! Wee-ooo!
The entire family, including Liam, who had just stumbled out of the restroom, jumped in terrified unison.
I calmly pulled my phone from my pocket. My call, I explained.
Arthurs mind was instantly a storm of panic. He was convinced I had chosen a police siren as a ringtone to brazenly mock law enforcement.
Oblivious to his internal meltdown, I answered the call.
Hello? Whats the situation?
Yes, a new assignment? I listened, my face tightening. Blunt force trauma to the skull? Got it. Im on my way. Keep the scene contained.
I hung up, dabbed my lips with a napkin, and stood up.
Stop right there! My father slammed his hand on the table, springing up with a jolt.
Avery! Where are you going this late? Ill give you money! Any amount you want! Just just stop doing this! The last part was a plea.
[Give me money? This isn't about money. The Bureau gave me an assignment. If I don't go, someone else will get the material. The good material.]
Arthurs anger instantly froze, replaced by an expression of pure, deep despair. He and Liam exchanged a look, blood draining from both their faces.
She she has an accomplice, Liam stammered.
My father collapsed back into his chair, defeated.
I simply found their reaction baffling, turned, and walked out. This assignment was particularly grim. One body was a high-fall from a skyscraper, impacting a glass canopy on the way down. The other was a highly decomposed, bloated man submerged in water for too long.
It was well past midnight when I finally finished processing the two bodies. A thunderstorm raged outside, the rain hammering against the windshield as I drove my SUV, exhaustion heavy in my limbs, back to the Kingston villa.
The lights were blazing in the living room.
The moment I opened the door, a wave of formalin mixed with the faint, metallic aroma of decomposition instantly overwhelmed the rooms subtle, expensive air fresheners.
The Kingston family was assembled, sitting bolt upright on the sofa, clearly waiting for me.
Seraphina saw me, immediately clamped a hand over her nose, and a flash of undisguised disgust crossed her eyes. In the next breath, she plastered on an expression of worried concern and rushed over.
Avery, where were you so late? And that smell! What is that smell?
Before I could answer, she reached out to grab the large, metal evidence box I was carrying. Let me take that for you, sister. You look so tired.
Her movement was quick and aggressive. Before I could stop her, she had it. Then, she took a tiny, seemingly "unintentional" stumble.
Ah!
CRASH!
The metal evidence box landed with a sickening clang on the polished marble floor. The heavy-duty latches sprung open, and several organs preserved in formalin tumbled out.
A length of wet, glistening intestine, still bearing the trace of the bodys last meal, plopped onto the fine area rug.
Im so sorry, sister, I didnt mean to
The words died in Seraphinas throat. The moment she registered what was scattered across the floor, her beautiful face turned paper-white. Her stomach heaved, and she bent over, vomiting instantly onto the marble.
[You wanted to play games. You wanted to see. Now look. I wasnt going to open the box, but you just had to be nosy.]
[Since you enjoy the view so much Ill have to figure out what to do with all of you now.]
I calmly slipped on a pair of latex gloves from my pocket, knelt down, and picked up the slick length of intestine from the rug.
I straightened, walked over to the retching Seraphina, and brought the organ right up to her face.
You wanted to see?
She lifted her horrified eyes to mine, saw the grotesque object inches from her nose, and promptly pitched forward, unconscious.
[Such a coward. Dont start what you cant finish.]
Holding the intestine, I slowly turned.
CRACK!
A flash of lightning illuminated the night sky, and the massive chandelier above the living room flickered violently.
In the stark, stuttering light, my father, my mother, and my brother saw me: Dr. Avery Stone, standing over the inert body of Seraphina, holding a human intestine.
The scene was pure, unadulterated horror.
They didnt even manage to scream. Their terror wasn't even a high-pitched shriek, just a low, guttural surrender to panic. One by oneArthur, Eleanor, Liamtheir eyes rolled back, and they crumpled to the floor, joining Seraphina.
The entire Kingston living room was now a tableau of bodies.
I sighed and shook my head. Well. A family that faints together, stays together.
I spent a considerable amount of time meticulously cleaning the floor, repackaging my treasures back into the evidence box. Then, I dragged them, one by one, back to their respective rooms, arranging them neatly in their beds.
Only after the whole family was tucked in did I return to my storage room, finally satisfied enough to sleep.

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