Old Knives

Jessup Conners stood and looked over the pair of knives at the auction. He had cash from two retirement checks in his pocket and those knives were going to be his. They had the name,"John Whyte Dublin" engraved on the blades. The handles were twisted metal with leather spiraled in perfectly in the twists. The knives were each about nine inches long and the blades curved to needle sharp point. He knew they were at least 150 years old.

Jessup was the collector of collectors in the area. Many of the old men at the auction whispered while Jessup was looking over the knives. One old man whispered to another,"That old son of a bitch buys every damn good knife in the county...hell...I'm just going to run up the bid...that'll teach him."

The knives finally came up for bid and Jessup instantly bid five hundred dollars....then a thousand...then two thousand. He got the knives at twenty one hundred dollars. Jessup went home that day a happy man but his wife, Margie wasn't so happy when she found out what he paid for them. He showed her the knives and strangely they scared her. She stepped back and said,"I hate those....Jessup....somebody was hurt by those knives...I can feel it." He had shown her hundreds of knives before and she never...ever reacted that way.

She asked him to not display them in his knife gallery room. Jessup couldn't convince her they were just knives but finally compromised by telling her he would keep them in his safe. Being a typical old husband...Jessup lied and put the knives in his right hand desk drawer so he could look at them often. He got on line and tried looking up, John Whyte Dublin" but only found a few pocket knives.

Jessup would sit at his desk...day after day and look at the knives. He would hold them and smell them. He began to ignore auctions that had some of his favorite knives. Margie noticed he was acting a bit strange but she was going to stay with her sick sister, Betsy in Green Bay Wisconsin. When she left...old Jessup had the house all to himself. He took his knives out and laid them proudly on his desk. Jessup strangely started feeling better than he had in years.

He began taking walks...then jogs...then he actually began running. The neighbors were amazed to see the 70 year old man running down the sidewalk. He began eating twice as much. He even dug out his rusty bar bells from the garage and began lifting weights. Jessup was feeling like he was thirty years younger! One night...he sat and held one of the knives in each hand. He thought out loud,"There must be magic in these beautiful knives...that's it....magic!"

Jessup climbed up on his desk and began to swipe the knives like he was fighting while watching his shadow on the green wall. He began to dance through the house and swiped slits on the curtains. He laughed and shouted,"Dear old Jessup...Margie is going to be mad...she is going to poison your pot pies!" He took the knives and slashed an X in Margie's chair. He went to her sewing room...flipped the light on and began violently slashing her dress form. If fell over on the floor and he stabbed it repeatedly and whispered loudly,"Whore...useless fucking whore!"

Jessup went into a frenzy of cutting holes in the gray dress form. He was sweating and slobbering. A local church bell rang and he instantly snapped out of his rage. Jessup was so upset when he saw what he had done. He dropped the knives on the floor but had to pick them up again. It was like they were a part of him now...he loved the feeling of holding them. He fell asleep that night in his easy chair...holding the knives to his heart.

Jessup woke up early as usual and made himself some breakfast. He didn't let go of the knives...he used them with his hands to make his food and eat his food. He would only let go of one when he could put both in one hand. He took his bath with the knives and even relieved himself with the knives in his hand. Jessup got dressed and sat at his desk all day admiring his two knives. He would make tiny cuts on his arms and lick the blood away. Jessup was enchanted to say the least.

That night...Jessup went to his closet and found his black trench coat. He also found his black fedora hat. He managed to button the coat up with one hand. When he was dressed...he stood in front of the grandfather clock in the dim lit hallway and just stared at the golden hands moving slowly around. He pissed himself as he tried to fight what was happening to him. He looked down and saw the puddle on the floor by his black shoes. He saw his reflection in the clock glass....his gray hair was now red...he had grown a mustache and his face was blurred. Jessup could feel the hands of hatred embrace his weakening heart.

Jessup woke up the next day...in the afternoon... in his easy chair. He was stark naked. A knife was stuck in each arm of the chair. He looked on his stomach and saw dried semen...it flaked away as he rubbed it off. He sat up and noticed his clothes piled in the hallway by the clock. He felt too weak to walk so he got on his knees and crawled. He could see quickly that the clothes were soaked in blood. The blood was smeared around them on the hardwood floor.

Jessup fell over and cried like a baby. He cried out,"What have I done.....oh lord...what have I done!" Jessup looked over at the knives sticking in his chair and cursed them! He ran to get a pair of pliers...pulled them from the chair arms and dropped them in a cardboard box. Jessup didn't want to touch the knives ever again...he wanted to destroy them. Jessup sealed the box with tape....put the clothing in a garbage bag and cleaned the floor.

He then took a shower and got dressed. Late that afternoon...his doorbell rang. It was his neighbor, Joe Basinel. As soon as Jessup opened the door...Joe said with excitement,"Have you heard the news....four women were murdered last night..they were butchered like animals...just like Jack the fucking Ripper!" As Joe began to describe the gruesome details....Jessup slammed the door and locked it. Joe walked away saying,"Damn if I tell him any more news!"

Jessup had a friend who was a boss at the local foundry. He was determined to destroy the knives Jessup called him and they agreed to meet at 8:00 PM. When Jessup got there he was in no mood for small talk...he told his friend he wanted to place the box in a furnace. His friend saw that he was very upset and agreed. They walked to furnace number two...his friend took the box with a pair of tongs and placed it in the white hot furnace. His friend then said,"Whatever was in that box will now just be part of our new customers surgical tools."