Helza Shine- Harold and Croissants

Trigger warning- Gore, Blood, torture and everything is fictional, inspired

**Tring Tring

Picks up

"Have you lost it Helza?"

"Did you like my surprise?"

"NO AND I AM NEVER GOING BACK THERE"

"Oh Darling West, you will be there in less than um *checks watch* 3 hours and 47 minutes."

"Ughhhh, never."

"Do you or do you not comply? *hisses*"

"I comply ughhh"

*hangs up

To be honest, I don't blame Harold. To those who do not know him, he is hell of a lad. 5'11, bulky, young and handsome. No, I do not flirt with kids even though he is very very hot and smart too. Just 18 and knows a thing or two about bodies. Sorry Dead Bodies. 

I met Harold West when he was just 16, trying to steal my wallet while I had my croissant. Normally, I would have gouged his eyes out. What? taking my wallet is not the deal, disturbing my croissant time?? Hell yeah someone's dying. 

Croissant time is like a favour to the world. Atleast I am not killing, now I cannot even have croissant that is keeping me sane? Cruel, God, cruel. Anyway, I caught him red-handed. Boy didn't even have a flicker of remorse in his eyes. The only thing that saved him from my wrath was his lack of fear. He didn't fear me. He didn't fear death. He didn't fear pain. He enjoyed it. I saw my childhood in his eyes: rebellious, heroic. 

That was it. I decided to keep him. Join me in my madness. Nah we aren't a team or anything, I simply rule, he follows.

 

Today he is mad at me. It is funny. That big of a man like bulky and muscular is all grumpy and throwing a tantrum. Hilarious. He is a kid afterall. He doesn't know the pleasure of exploding a body. He only sees the mess he has to clean. 

I won't blame him. As far as I know what he saw is something like this:

A very clean house but a messy bathroom to clean. I love the paradoxes and so I went an extra mile to clean the whole house of Mr. Ashish Something something (I don't remember full name ofc). Harold must have found him pieces of him in a slimy slimy bathtub.

The brains on the ceiling of the room, flesh all over the place, maybe pieces of limb on the wall, maybe some pieces near the faucet, oh and for the aesthetic vibe, a blood stained mirror. I am Gen Z, duh! aesthetics are important. Opposing the beauty of the mirror, must lay the bathtub filled with body fluids, rotten flesh. 

I will go ahead and tell you how did I manage to make such a masterpiece. An artist doesn't define his process but I'm generous...

*DOOR SLAMS

"What the hell is it Harold? I am writing..."

"SHUT UP. You sent me over to that place and you knew!!"

"Didn't you like my art?" *frowns*

"Helza there were flies stuck at the windows. The body was everywhere!! For your information it had exploded. How sloppy of you Shiny, how sloppy..."

By this time, I have my sheepish grin on.

"Wait I know that smile. You knew the body would explode. You knew. Didn't you?"

"Aesthetics"

"God..."

"Darling we pray to the Satan."

"Shut up"

  "Hiding a body is an art. Remember kid, all the torture and fun goes to waste if the body stays. I cannot just detonate a body in a house. Everyone will know so I had to get creative. If you bloat the body just enough, fluids do their thing and body explodes."

"Eh kind of basic but how did you manage to hide two weeks?"

"Remember the windows? flies covered windows? Could you see anything from the outside? Hell no because exploded bodies are flies infested. No need to guess who kept the garage window opened. I did Ta-da."

He left. He obviously thought I was crazy. I am and I like it. If it weren't art, I would have signed my name on the mirror. It was beautiful. 

Ashish Something Something must be proud of how he died- beautifully, painfully and everything in between. I have photos of my creation. Tuesday will be his funeral and displaying them there will create the chaos I want. I can predict everything obviously, in 3 hours and umm 3 minutes, Harold will get a call from his non-crazy boss to go and actually clean the place after the police has taken pictures of my art as well.

You see everyone loves my art.

Ashish something was one of the people who took girls to their newly built shiny shiny storage constructed for sex trafficking of course. He deserved the death. Obviously he was a menace to society. Like how dare he?

How dare he close one of the oldest croissant shops of the city? demolish it? and construct a whole damned shiny shiny storage over it? Shiny shiny ewww. 

(Dear Reader: Honey, you need to stop assuming for real.) 

That man was asking for it by taking a hit on the croissant. Why can't just people understand? Croissants are  favour to mankind from me. When I am not killing, it is the croissants who are saving your lives.

Lesson for the day: do not come near my croissants.

Your Worst Nightmare

The Helza Shine