His dad reached over with his other hand and held Seth’s face as he looked into his eyes. “It’s going to be all right, Sethy boy.”
Seconds later his dad died. The car sped away as he was sitting on the ground still holding his dad’s hand.
Seth opened his eyes and stared at a scar in the palm of his hand, and he thought to himself how his parent’s death was just the beginning of the horror to come in his life.
“What are you going to do to me?”
Seth didn’t answer.
“Are you going to kill me?”
Seth caught his composure and looked up. “We’ll see, but for now I want to introduce you to some of the others in the chamber. And when I tell their story I want you to pay attention and listen carefully. You might have a hard time comprehending what your ears are actually hearing. You will have doubts as your mind tells you some of the stories cannot be possible, but I assure you that the unimaginable and unthinkable things I will tell are a reality fueled by the raging passion for vengeance combined with all the earth’s fury.”
The Human Punching Bag
The man in the dark corner stood to his feet. “I don’t understand why I am here.”
“All will be revealed. Be patient.” Seth walked over to and leaned up against a corpse that was standing in a drum filled with dried concrete. “This is Larry.”
The man in the dark corner could see that Larry had been concreted up to his waist in the barrel. He had several metal objects sticking out of the top of his head. A rope was tied to one of the metal objects and the other end was secured to the ceiling, holding the corpse upright. His body was massively deformed and bruised from some type of barbaric torture. His body, the metal barrel and the floor were covered in dried blood and other disgusting fluids. The man in the dark corner was very concerned with his situation. He was scared, but also had a lot of anxiety from being confined against his will in a room filled with such atrocities. “I don’t care about who or what that thing is, or what you have to say. I just want to go home.”
Seth struck a match off the side of a metal eyebolt that was sticking out the top of the corpse’s head, then lit a cigarette. “You better learn to care, pal—I have quite a few stories to tell.”
He looked down and softly spoke. “My name isn’t pal.”
Seth stared at him for a moment. “You remind me of this weird fucker named Richard that I ran across a few years back.” Seth pointed at him. “I’m going to call you Dicky. That’s your new name from here on out.”
He took a deep breath. “Whatever makes you happy.”
Seth nodded towards the corpse. “Now back to this fucker. He was a very cruel and abusive piece of shit that liked to beat on women and kids. It was many years ago when I first read about him in the paper. The article stated he had beaten his wife and daughter to death with his fists and he had gotten off on a technicality. The paper said the officers that arrested him didn’t use proper procedures and the evidence they had obtained couldn’t be used in the trial because it had been collected without a search warrant. Our justice system let a ruthless killer go free even though the evidence was overwhelming.”
Seth walked over to Dicky and grabbed the bars. “I knew someone was going to have to step forward to make this guy pay for the vicious crime he had committed. My whole life I’ve witnessed how cruel the human race can be and it was time to give a little justice back to all the decent people of the world. Our judicial system is worthless as it fails to punish murderers, rapists, child molesters and all the other scum of the earth, and after they receive a slap on the hand, they are released to create more havoc for law abiding and decent people. Our system does not make the criminal take responsibility for their actions. They say a rapist has rights. How can this be? What about his victim’s rights? Human activists protest and fight for a murderer on death row, but where were they when the lowlife was killing their victim? Parole committees decide if a child molester can be set free, but are they going to guard and protect everyone’s children? Prison is too easy for criminals. Their televisions, books, radios, weights, sports, and any other type of luxuries should be stripped from them, but a portion of society feels that would be cruel and unusual punishment. What about how the criminal didn’t care about their victim’s cruel and unusual punishment they bestowed upon them.”
Dicky looked up. “Why are you telling me all this? I want to know…”
Seth interrupted. “All you need to do for now is, shut the fuck up and listen.”
He lowered his head. Seth paused for a moment to see if he had anything else to say, but he just sat quietly while looking down. He walked back over to Larry and sat on the edge of the drum. “I needed to investigate Larry closer, so I drove to Mesa, Arizona where he lived in a mobile home on the outskirts of town. After a short while, I realized he was more of a piece of shit than what I had originally thought. He had just been released from jail and was already beating up his new girlfriend. The bastard’s wife and daughter had only been in the ground for six months. His criminal record showed he had been in and out of prison most of his life for all sorts of crimes. Most were abuse or assault related. Some of the others I went after took extensive surveillance, months of planning and extreme patience, but Larry was one of the easy ones. Over the course of several days, I followed him around and studied his moves. On the fourth night, I followed him to a run-down motel where he had met some lady. I figured she was a prostitute because of the clothes she wore and the way she handled herself, but I never judge a book by its cover. She could have been an undercover cop, so I asked around and found out she was a hooker and had been in the area for several years. While I waited in the parking lot, I noticed the area was dark, no visible cameras and no one was around. About an hour later, Larry came out of the motel room, and as he walked over to his car I met him with a club. He quickly noticed me while smoking a cigarette. “What the fuck do you want, jerk off?”
“Redemption.”
“What the…”
Before he could finish his sentence, I swung the club and beat him unconscious. Without hesitating I dragged him over to my car and threw him into a hidden compartment under the floor of my trunk, then I hightailed it out of there. A little way out of town I stopped and injected him with a tranquilizer so he would sleep for the rest of the trip. The last thing I needed was to get pulled over by the police for a taillight being out while the jackass was banging around and yelling for help. Six hours later I arrived at home, and after I dragged his unconscious body into the chamber, I threw him into a cell until I could figure out what I was going to do with him. Before I left the room, I injected him again with another tranquilizer shot so he would sleep through the night.”
Seth extinguished his cigarette butt on Larry’s face, then walked over to Dicky’s cell. “It took me four years to dig and build this room, and for the record it’s soundproof. There is dirt all the way around it and we’re around twenty feet deep, so no one will be able to hear your screams.”
Dicky stood to his feet as he continued to hide in the shadowed corner. “I don’t know why you have brought me into this hellish place, and I don’t know what I’ve done to you, but I beg you to tell me anything.”
“Everything will be revealed in good time, but for now all I can tell you is that you will never leave this chamber alive.”
He had a solemn look on his face as Seth walked over and sat on a wooden table next to Larry’s corpse. “Death is too easy of a way out for guys like Larry. I wanted to do something special for him. I wanted him to suffer and feel belittled like his wife and daughter and all the other people he had abused. The next morning I went into town and picked up a fifty-five-gallon barrel and some bags of Quikrete. When I got back, I dragged his unconscious body out of the cell to where I had set up the materials. After I catheterized him, I stood him up inside the barrel, then filled it with concrete up to his waist. Several hours later he finally awoke, and the last thing he would remember would be
standing next to his car back at the motel. For the first few minutes he didn’t say a word as he looked at me and all the monstrosities that surrounded him. I will never forget his facial expression. It looked as though he had awoken in hell and was staring at the devil himself.”
Seth noticed Dicky was looking down. “Look at me when I’m talking!”
He didn’t say anything as he raised his head and glared toward Seth.
“The makeup does make an impression, don’t you think? Most people don’t really know what to think the first time they see me and all the gruesome shit around them. They don’t know if I am a psycho or if they have actually died and gone to hell. Some think it’s a nightmare they will finally awaken from. Torture and confusion of the mind is sometimes more painful than the torture of the flesh. I always mix the two—fear after the adrenaline rush is over creates more pain.”
Dicky raised his knees up to his chest, and after he rested his arms on them he mumbled, “You are psycho.”
“Being psychotic or sane is irrelevant in the outcome of your destiny. And I can also tell you that listening to what I have to say without your mouth being sewn shut would be less agonizing.”
He rested his chin on his arms, and as he sat quietly with the facial expression of a pouting kid Seth continued, “After Larry had a good look around, he realized what kind of predicament he was in and started begging. He really began to beg and plead as I put a pair of brass knuckles on each hand. He screamed like a bitch as I began to beat on him like he was a human punching bag. I knocked out all his front teeth in the first few blows. At first, he tried to fight back and block the punches with his arms, but when I began to beat them into tenderized meat he quickly decided to cover his face with his hands to protect himself. I didn’t miss a beat as I started pounding on the back of his hands, and with each blow I could hear the bones in his fingers snapping like twigs. I finally stopped when I was exhausted and his face, hands and body were a bloody pulp. I had some other things to do, so I left him sniveling in the dark as I walked out of the chamber.
The next evening when I came back, I found Larry slumped over like a limp noodle. He was so exhausted and weak from the loss of blood that he didn’t even have the energy to hold himself up. He was hideous looking. His face looked like one big bruise and his entire head and body were severely swollen and stained with dry blood. His front teeth were missing, and the broken pieces were scattered all over the blood and vomit covered floor. His lips were busted open and swollen about four times their normal size and I could see his gums through the large open gashes. His arms and hands were so busted up and swollen they were unnatural looking. One of his eyes had ruptured and the massive amount of swelling had caused it to grotesquely protrude from its socket to the point it looked as if it was going to fall out. His other one was almost swollen shut, but he could still see. I was actually amazed he was still alive.
When he saw me he became infuriated. He bowed up like he wanted to fight. He could barely move his mouth. “You motherfucker! I’m going to fucking kill you!”
While he cursed and threatened me, I grabbed him by his hair and pulled his head back and looked directly into his good eye, or somewhat of a good eye. “I’m not your wife or daughter you’re talking to, fuck wad!”
To my surprise, he grabbed my throat with both of his swollen hands. “I’m going to rip your fucking heart out you motherfu…”
I backhanded him so hard that when his exhausted body sprung backwards, the vertebrae in his back crack and popped and I thought I had broken it. He screamed at the top of his lungs as his body helplessly hung backwards, then a short moment later he began to shake violently—possibly due to all his nerves feeling like they were on fire. He trembled and screamed as he desperately tried to pull himself forward by gripping the top of the barrel with his swollen hands, but he didn’t have the strength. And the slipperiness of his bloody hands didn’t help either. The pain was causing him to scream out louder and louder with each passing second.”
Knuckle Sandwich
Seth walked over and stood by the rusted bars. He noticed Dicky had a strange look as he sat on the floor. “Everyone I bring in here reacts differently, and as time passes each person will eventually change his or her personality and mindset. Some will go from being weak and timid, to angry and violent, weak to strong, or from being a very aggressive and mouthy jerk to a sniveling wimp, and then sometimes they change to another mindset. I’ve learned to give up on understanding the human mind, but what I’ve learned is when a human is pushed to their limits physically, and/or emotionally, and when they realize they have no control over their destiny, they will react in an unpredictable and sometimes surprising way. Sometimes there is more fear and pain in psychological torture than in actual torture of the flesh itself, but I like to think of the mind games as foreplay.”
Seth noticed a tear running down Dicky’s face. “See, right now you’re acting like a little bitch. Later you will be cursing me and fighting back like a wild, crazed maniac.”
“I’m not that kind of person.”
“Sure, you are. You just haven’t had the proper motivation yet.”
He stood up. “I need to know why I am here.”
“Apparently not for your fucking company.”
A solemn look came over his face.
Seth walked back over and sat on the wooden table next to Larry’s corpse. “Like I said earlier, everything will be revealed. For now, you just need to listen and keep your mouth shut. Now where was I? Oh yeah, this asshole here was screaming as he was frantically twisting his body and grabbing at the barrel to pull himself forward. His fingers were grotesquely bending backwards because of his broken phalanges, and his thumbs were slipping from all the blood and mucus that covered the top of the barrel. Finally, he used his arms to push downward on the top of the barrel, and after twisting around and struggling for a few seconds he was able to straighten himself up. He had to struggle to balance himself in the upright position, and when he caught his composure he glared at me through his swollen eye. “You’re a fucking coward,” and then with a cocky grin he said, “You’re a real tough guy, aren’t you? A real chicken shit! Going to beat a bound man to death. What a tough guy. What a fucking worm!”
I looked him in the eye. “You must think you’re tough because you can beat the shit out of women and children.”
He smiled with a chicken shit grin. “Tougher than anything you can dish out, you fucking freak!”
He tried to spit at me through his swollen lips, but the slobber and blood mixture only ran down his chin. I let him continue with his threats as I slid a wooden table right in front of him. He wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing because he was too busy running his mouth while trying to maintain his balance. Before he knew what happened, I had grabbed him by the hair and slammed his face onto the top of the table. He became really pissed and was violently fighting back as I was tying his arms behind his back with wire. By the time I finished, he was pretty much hysterical, slamming his head onto the table top—kind of like one of those drunk jocks in a bar trying to show how tough they are. He didn’t miss a beat as he continued to curse me while slamming his head, shouting, “Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you.”
Even with all his injuries he would not submit. He jerked his head and shoulders around violently as I forced the bottom of his chin to the tabletop. To keep his head from slipping away, I used the left side of my chest and my left armpit to hold his head tightly to the tabletop, which allowed both of my hands to remain free. As I held his chin to the table top, I forced an eight-inch long galvanized nail into his mouth and pointed it downwards. He jerked viciously and screamed as I drove the nail through the bottom of his mouth just behind his bottom teeth. When the nail penetrated the tabletop a few inches, I bent the remaining top portion of it over his bottom gum where his teeth had been knocked out, then continued to wrap it over his busted lip and chin. I completed the task by beating the head of the nail into the tabl
etop to make sure he couldn’t slip out. By this time his good eye was almost popping out of his head from the excruciating pain, and his screaming and jerking around was causing the nail to dig down deeper into his gums and broken teeth, causing even more pain. Mr. Loudmouth had to hold himself very still in an awkward position to reduce the pain, but unfortunately for him, he was still able to mumble a fuck you. I would have stopped at this point and continued later, but this guy was a real hardheaded individual and his mouthiness only fueled the fire even more. Instead of leaving for the evening so I could watch The Tonight Show, I gathered up some items from my storage room that would hopefully shut him up for the night.
When I came back he was still eye-fucking me and mumbling threats and curse words. But that ended quickly when I drove a large hook through the end of his tongue. He screamed out loud as I stood on the other end of the table and pulled on the wire that was connected to it. Sweat was pouring off his body and he was screaming at the top of his lungs as I stretched his tongue as far as it could be stretched without ripping it in two down the center, and as I held the tension, I tied it off to the end of the table. He was miserable and in a horrendous amount of pain as he was being bound in the barbaric position. He was covered with blood, sweat, and spit, and as he looked up at me the idiot still tried to speak, but the pain was so overwhelming he just gave up, closed his eye and began making weak sounding moans.
The complete “A Glimpse into Hell” series - 5 books, 195 chapters, 1700 pages, 600K words of pure gore Page 3