CCK

By Nina Mills

“Can I be honest with you?”

My girlfriend avoids making eye contact with me after the question appears, awkwardly

licking the remaining icing off her finger before picking up one of the birthday cake toppers

lying down on the picnic blanket. I tilt my head curiously as I watch her hands fidget and spin

the topper around, wondering what she meant by her words — has anything good ever come out

of asking to be honest?

Did I make a mistake with her birthday party?

“Please?” She asks again, reminding me to respond.

“Ah— I, um… it’s your special day, say whatever you want to.” I quickly reply, before

internally mocking myself for stuttering and pausing for too long. My girlfriend seems to let out

a sigh of relief, even though her distressed expression was still stuck on her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m finding this whole birthday party a bit… unnerving.” She remarks, clutching her

arm as she looks left and right at the forest around us. I stare at her intently, getting more

convinced that I messed up with the surprise party — was the forest making her nervous? Did

she not like the rainbow cake flavor? Should I have made this whole party more extravagant?

I think about all the possible problems about the party that bothered her, yet..

I take another sip of my drink, opening my mouth to speak again.

“Unnerving? What do you mean by that?”

 “Well, um..”

My girlfriend barely starts her sentence before trailing off, sitting in silence for a bit. I

narrow my eyes, unable to recognize the strange expression on my girlfriend’s face — what in

the world was she trying to say?

“Hey, babe?” She starts again.

“Yeah?”

“Have you heard about Cake Cutter Killings from the newspaper?”

My smile returns.

“About that murderer guy who kills people on their birthday?”

My girlfriend nods, anxiously fidgeting with her hair. “Yeah, that. I didn’t see anything

saying that he gets close to his victims, though… but anyways, can’t you see why I’m a little

worried now? It’s my birthday; what if he kills us with the cake cutter?”

“It’s not a cake cutter, it’s a real knife.” I corrected, setting my cup down. “One of those

huge kitchen ones. Actual cake cutters wouldn’t do much anyways, although I’m sure you know

that.”

“And it’s said that he always isolates the victims too, so that no one knows till months

later..” She shudders, getting up from the picnic blanket and walking towards the nearby stream.

I follow, shaking my head in disappointment.

“Not months later, it’s usually just days. Since he doesn’t bother covering his tracks.” I

correct my girlfriend once more, before grinning at her. “Although he still likes to keep his hands

clean.”
 She folds her arms together, crossing them next to her chest as another chill goes down

her spine.

“You must be pretty interested in this stuff, seeing how you know so much about it..” She

mutters softly before continuing to walk around in circles. “Oh yeah, and apparently once the

victim is almost dead, he stuffs the birthday cake in their mouth— isn’t that weird??”

I hum a tune to myself, shaking my head. “You think so? But they deserve to at least eat

something nice after what I’ve done to them, right?”

My girlfriend freezes in her tracks, slowly turning her head to stare at me.

“‘I’ve?’”

“My bad, I mean ‘he.’ I used to flunk English class.”

I laugh, not feeling ashamed at all. My girlfriend stays silent.

“..hey, isn’t that knife a little too sharp to be considered a cake cutter?”

She points at the large knife resting beside the birthday cake, clutching her chest.

“Believe it or not, I’m not that good with birthday cakes.” I shrug, laughing again. I walk

over to the cake, crouching down to pick up the knife and hold it in the air. The sunlight reflects

beautifully on the metal blade, giving it a warm yellow glow.

“That makes no sense, you’re the one who made the cake—”

“Wait a minute.”

I rest my head on my chin as I stare at my girlfriend, a mischievous expression slowly

appearing on my face as I get up with the knife.

She takes a step backwards.

 “Are you— no, there’s no way—” She stutters, gaping at me in shock before hitting her

head as she stumbles backwards into a tree. I put my hands behind my back innocently, testing

the edges of the knife as I watch her eyes widen in fear.

“Sorry, was this reveal too sudden?” I ask, sighing as I ruffle my hair with my bloody

finger. “I usually wait till later to make the big reveal, but…”

“You figured things out too fast.”

The realization finally dawns on her, and she let out a high pitched scream.

“Congratulations, Victim #36!” I declare, taking out the kitchen knife and stabbing the

tree right next to her face with the kitchen knife as she continues staring at me in horror.

“You’ve connected the dots all by yourself; what an intelligent girl you are! Yet.. it’s still

a shame, though—”

“It would have been nice if we could have hung out a bit longer before you died.”

***

I rinse my hands in the bloody stream as #36 chokes helplessly in the background, mouth

abundantly full of the rest of the cake that I had saved for her.

Humming a tune to myself, I flick the droplets off my hand and check my watch for the

time, realizing that I’ll be late to another birthday party as the clock reads. “3:56pm.” Yet I shrug

it off; being late isn’t too much of a concern.

In any case, I’ll still get the job done in the end.