I took long strides, in a hurry to charge into that bunker and chop-chop.
The moment I stepped in, a small moan escaped my throat.
Because, oh, fuck me, the setup was perfect.
The table was a fucking dream.
A nightmare, actually. For them.
Lined up neatly like silverware at a fancy restaurant were hammers, batons, wrenches, knives, scalpels, and even a damn saw. Big, small, clean, stained, name it. Each one practically begging me to pick them up and start the music.
The axe? Oh, that one was my fucking favorite.
Did I mention the cameras?
Stupid me.
This was cinema.
An ARRI ALEXA Mini LF with Signature Prime Lenses stood in the middle of the large space, facing the ‘stage’ to catch the moment the light left their fucking eyes.
On either side, angled like twin snipers, two RED V-RAPTOR XL 8K VNs stood ready to capture every glorious fucking second of the show from perfect angles.
I wish I’d kept my promise to Mine to give her a front-row seat to this little horror show, so she could watch me execute the bastards who hurt her, slowly and intimately. But knowing Kasmine? She’d go all soft, cry into her sleeve like she does during horror movies, whispering, “Don’t do it, Kes.”
Because this isn’t a movie.
This is reality.
A personal horror feature.
And since I knew she couldn’t stomach the live screening, I did what’s best for her. I decided to record every filthy second of the show. I’ll hand it to her whenever she’s ready to see what I did for her… What I became for her.
I let out a grin as I quickly walked to the table with the urgency of a doctor rushing into an emergency room.
“Alright, boys,” I clapped my hands once, “Who’s first?”
My gaze rested on the men tied, gagged, and slumped in their chairs like bags of bloody laundry just beside my stage.
They looked pathetic. Sorry excuses who call themselves men. Blood kept trickling down their heads, noses, heck, all around their bodies, I had ordered for special doses of The Witch-Brew Shot to be injected into them very gradually over the last four hours, enough to get them ready for the process..
Think of it like silver laced with wolfsbane and paralysis root, suspended in ashblood extract.
This not only halts healing but leaves them hyper-aware of pain. They’ll be trapped in a body that will never ever recover,
I glanced at Nagel Vale. His eyes still burned with that familiar fire of a man who’d watched a thousand others suffer without blinking. The arenait pick Wants to die with pride? Trying not to show any form of weakness, like he wasn’t soaked in his own piss and bleeding out the corners of his mouth thinking he had some kind of dignity left.
Everyone bleeds. And I had just the exact tool to make sure he bled from the inside out.
I smirked at him. “You’ll be fun.”
The trembling maggot in the middle caught my attention. He was shaking so hard, like his soul was trying to escape his body before I got to it. And something about it thrilled me.
My smile widened. “Ah! That’s right.” I leaned in, close enough for him to smell the madness on my breath. “You’re the little spectator in the video, huh?”
I turned to my men, ‘Let’s start with him.”
They didn’t hesitate. Two men grabbed the coward like trash off the street and dragged him to one of the slaughter tables.
I rolled up my sleeves and walked to the tools laid out like surgical instruments. Except there was no healing or recovery here. Just vengeance served raw,
“You know what the funny part is?” I muttered, mostly to myself. “I’m not even angry anymore. I’m… focused. And that should terrify you all more than anything else.”
I turned toward the man strapped to the table, saw the tears leaking from his eyes, and the pathetic attempts to mumble through his gag.
‘Let’s not waste time.” ated To My Obsessive Stepbrother
KESTER.
Fuck. Watching Norlan do the devil’s work was like catching God on an off-day. It was the kind of thing that made a grown man moan.
I leaned back against the table, where our equipment was lined up, one leg crossed over the other, like I was watching fine art unfold. And in a way, I was.
Norlan had insisted on handling the bystander, since I had a more specific punishment for the one lying on the second slaughter table the skilled videographer – who had already lost his right arm and left leg, almost like I imagined when I paused that filthy video and stared at his smug little face. I’d envisioned his limbs gone. His camera arm, especially.
And now?
He was a fucking masterpiece.
He was better off this way.
Norlan should have taken up a career in the medical field.
“Goddamn, I muttered, a smile spreading across my face. “Norlan, are you sure you’re not a surgeon? Because this shit is precise.”
Did you see how perfectly he sliced off the prick’s ear? It was almost sensual.
“Heard you had a hard-on while you watched our Luna fight to keep her dignity…” Norlan whispered into the man’s remaining ear, “Let’s fix that.”
His gloved hand hovered over the bastard’s groin, and I swear… I swear… I felt the tension snap through the room.
Oh. No. Don’t tell me he was going to cut off… Oh! Fuck! Norlan just sliced off the bastard’s cock with all the flair of a man removing rot.
The bastard couldn’t even scream. He just made this wet, retching sound like his soul had gagged on itself.
He was ready to give up the ghost in the next five minutes. And believe me when I say Norlan didn’t give him the mercy kill. He left the bastard to die very slowly.
Was I happy with Norlan? Fuck, no. Happiness was an understatement.
I was fucking proud of him!
I returned my attention to the prick lying on my slaughter table. His blood was everywhere, spraying, pulsing, and sickeningly warm.
Larry didn’t hesitate. He swung right into action as he shoved the table aside, grabbed the red-sealed bag under the sink, and started unrolling the emergency trauma kit. sure this
“He’s got maybe two minutes before he crashes. Get me the clamp. And the ketamine.”
Oh. Had I mentioned that I also had a surgeon, two nurses, and an ex-military doctor, Larry, here with me?
These were people who literally owe me their lives and loyalty, and they were more than happy to be here.
Tourniquets, hemostatic dressings, IV fluids, oxygen, painkillers, antibiotics, everything that should’ve been in a hospital, that was needed to … skilled videographer made it out of here alive, we/had in a fucking basement.
Wanted to make sure he stayed alive. I needed him to wake up in that pain, stare at those missing limbs, and realize his new reality. I needed him to understand-deeply-what happens when you touch what’s mine.
Let him wake up and think about the way his blood hrad sprayed across this floor like fucking confetti at a funeral.
‘It’s time for our star characters.” I took a sip of water and checked my watch. We’d spent less than forty minutes with those two.
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