Several weeks later, the assholes had been released and were under house arrest. They were also required to wear tracking devices. The two shitters were roommates and living in an old farmhouse on the east side of town where they apparently got free rent for taking care of the ranch. The next night I packed a bunch of stuff in a duffel bag and made a visit to the two assholes around eleven o’clock. The house was secluded, which made it a simple operation. I had disguised myself as a Mexican fresh across the border. I had dyed my skin brown, sported a large fake moustache, green pearl snap shirt, pointed boots, a sombrero and one gold tooth. This wasn’t going to be a sneak around type situation; I walked right up to their front door and knocked. I wasn’t sure if they were home, but I could hear Garth Brooks playing in the background. They apparently didn’t hear my knock, so I kicked the shit out of the door a couple of times. A few seconds later, Shannon, who was one of the assholes, opened the door. He was only wearing shorts and a cowboy hat. “What the fuck, dude!”
I removed my sombrero, and in a broken English accent said, “I heres for sum work.”
“You got the wrong house, partner.”
“I work for Meeester Baker.”
Mr. Baker was the owner of the ranch and would hire cheap labor whenever he could, and as I stood on the porch, Shannon yelled out for William to come over to the door, which was the other asshole. When he approached, I noticed he was only wearing shorts and western boots. There was something definitely wrong with these two yahoos, especially since there weren’t any women present.
William walked onto the porch. “Take your ass to the barn. That’s where the wetbacks stay.”
“Vete a la chingada.” I nodded towards their room. “Mormir awui.”
Shannon shook his head. “Hell no, hombre. You ain’t going to get grease all over my shit. Take your ass around back and sleep with the goats.”
I pulled out a pocket translator, and as I looked at it I said with a Spanish combined with an Ebonics accent, “Fuck you, biatch. I will pop a cap in yo muthafuckin’ ass. Yous goat fuckas can get the fuck out of my muthafuckin’ crib.”
William grabbed the book from my hand. He had a puzzled expression as he looked at the front cover. “What the fuck! Check this shit out dude.” He handed the book to Shannon.
Shannon noticed the title read, Spanish to Nigga translation. He started laughing.
William smiled as he looked at me. “That’s some funny shit. Someone played a prank on your brown ass, partner.”
While the two fuckers were laughing their heads off I pulled out a switchblade. “Voy a puñalada le. Gonna fuckin’ stick ya.”
The two Brokeback Mountain men quickly ran back into the house, and as they tried to close the door, I held it open with my pointed boot. Suddenly I heard the universal sound of a shotgun being cocked, so I ran out into the dark and stood behind a tree with my custom made semiautomatic tranquilizer pistol. When the two dicks came out on the porch, I shot William, who was brandishing the shotgun, in his chest. He quickly fell to his knees, then to the floor. Shannon took off back into the house, and about the same time he crossed the threshold I shot two darts into his back. He was only able to take two more steps before he collapsed and did a nosedive onto the floor. I pulled William into the house and shut and locked the door. Just to be safe, I closed all the window blinds and made sure the other exterior doors were locked. I went back outside and set up my trusty motion sensors so I would be warned if anyone came around. When I came back in, I secured one of the cuffs from the Motivator to William’s ankle and the other to Shannon’s ankle, then secured a pair of cuffs that were connected to each other with a three-foot cable around their other ankle so they would be cuffed together, which would complete the circuit.
An hour or so later, William began to come around first because he had only been shot with one dart. He noticed me immediately as I was sitting on their couch eating a pop tart.
“Hey. What the fuck dude! What’s this shit around….?”
I flipped a switch on the Motivator and lit his ass up for a few seconds. “Motivation, pendejo.”
He was sitting on the floor with a dumbfounded look. “What the fuck are you talking about? Motivation for what?”
I tossed a half-eaten pop tart on the coffee table. “Porque voy a hacerle comer algunos mierda. You say in ingles, like... I make you eat caca.”
William started to get up. “I aint…”
I lit his ass up again before he could finish his sentence. When I shut off the unit, I threw my pop tart at him, which struck him in the side of the head. “Necesitamos algunos mierda… You know, we need some caca.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, you crazy motherfucker!”
I cranked up the rheostat and shocked the shit out of him, literally—he shit his shorts. He started screaming as soon as the current stopped flowing.
“Silencio!”
“What the fuck dude!
“Hush! Ahora vamos a ver cómo gracioso es cuando tiene que comer mierda.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re saying!”
“In Ingles, you would say like, see how funny when you have to eat caca.”
“Eat what? Dude, you’re fucking crazy!”
“Quitarse la ropa.”
He stared at me with a confused look.
“Quitarse la ropa. Drop them cortos... cortos, shorts... and clean the caca with your pinches tongue.”
He didn’t obey, so I started shocking him on a higher setting, and after about ten seconds, smoke began to pour around the cuffs. He was arching his back as he laid on the floor trembling and I could tell he wanted to scream, but the current had frozen all the muscles in his body. His buddy Shannon wasn’t feeling anything because he was still unconscious, but his muscles were contracting as well. When I finally let off he screamed at the top of his lungs, so I lit him up again to shut him up. “I se corte la garganta si usted gritar.” I flipped open a switch blade. “In Ingles, you would say like, I cut your fucking throat if you scream.”
This time when I shut off the device he laid on the floor quietly.
“Es major. Good amigo. Now, get to lickin’ it up before I quemar your feet off.”
He was crying as he laid in the fetal position. “I can’t do it!”
“Not stopping until usted hacerlo, you know, you do.”
He started to say something, but I interrupted him again when I flipped the switch back on. I lowered the voltage to where he could still move around, but also where it still hurt like hell. It only took a short period of time for him to pull off his shit covered shorts, but the lower voltage wasn’t convincing enough for him to start licking his shit, so I cranked it up a little. He fought the pain as he just sat on the floor gagging while holding his soiled shorts and underwear. I cranked the rheostat to almost maximum, and as he flopped around on the floor, blue arcs were jumping around between the cuff and his flesh, and as each second passed, his skin turned darker and darker. As soon as I cut the power, he screamed as he lunged on top of his shorts and began licking his shit. He was dry heaving at the same time as he made a weird moaning sound. After a few half ass licks he vomited all over the floor.
He stared up at me with a look of disgust on his face. “You fucking happy?”
“Sigue... Keep going till all gone. Incluyendo, mal olor puke, you know, the puke also.”
He jumped to his feet. “I’m going to fucking kill you! You fucking wetback!”
I zapped him on the maximum setting for about thirty seconds until he passed out.
Ten minutes later he awoke. He didn’t say anything as he sat up. Over the next hour, he just sat there watching me as I was watching the movie Machete on TV. He knew if he tried anything that I would light his ass up, because I had the TV remote in one hand and the remote to the Motivator in the other. Throughout the movie, I would yell Spanish curse words at the TV, and occasionally I would look over at him and smile as I slightly shook my head. He didn’t say a wo
rd as he glared at my sparkly gold tooth. Around the end of the movie, Shannon started stirring around, so I shut off the TV. I remained quiet so Shannon could regain his senses before joining the party. A few minutes later, Shannon sat up and looked at William, who was sitting nude on the floor next to him with his head down, covered in shit.
Shannon had a very confused look on his face as he scratched his head. “What the fuck dude?”
William looked up and nodded towards me as I was relaxing on the couch.
Shannon looked over in my direction and became instantly angry. “I’m going to fuck you up! Nobody wears my fucking cowboy hat!”
He started to get up, so I lit his ass up, which in return energized William because he was in series with the circuit. I let the two roll around on the floor and cook for a few seconds. When I shut off the unit, William remained calm, but Shannon glared at me. “What the fuck!”
“Bienvenidos a la fiesta.”
“What!”
“That got your atencion.”
“You ain’t got shit, fucker!”
I smiled real big. “Funny you say shit... Now, you will take a grandes shit on the piso.”
“Piss on what… Who?”
“Piso, floor. You will take shit on floor, pendejo.”
He started to get up, but when I held up the remote he sat back down. He was still pissed that I was wearing his cowboy hat, but he decided to remain calm. It took just a little motivation from the shocker to get him to pull down his shorts. After a few more zaps, he dropped an eight-inch log on the floor.
My gold tooth sparkled as I smiled. “Usted thought it was divertide, funny, to caca in my alimentos, food. Le pajarones will tartar, treat, yourself to a caca sandwich.”
William didn’t say anything because he knew it was inevitable, but Shannon became aggressive again and started to get up again while cursing, so I lit them up until blood began oozing out of their charred skin around the cuffs. When I shut off the unit I tossed the assholes several slices of bread. Neither one of them said a word as they scooped up some shit on their slice. They were both hesitant at that point, but when I threatened to light them up again, they both began to shove their shit sandwich into their mouth. Shannon immediately started vomiting all over the floor and William gagged as he swallowed his sandwich without chewing. Over the next couple of hours, I made them eat the remaining turd, lick clean William’s shorts and underwear, and I had them suck up all their puke from the floor, which they had probably done twenty times each.
The two dicks were white as ghosts as they laid on the floor in the fetal position, and now that I had made my point, I shot them with a tranquilizer dart. While they slept, I removed the Motivator cuffs from their ankles. I wasn’t going to kill them, and I knew they would most likely whine to the police about the inhumane treatment they had received. To make their story un-creditable, I stuck a piece of acid under each of their tongues and left the remaining pieces in a bag on the coffee table. They had severe burns around both of their ankles, so I took a handheld propane torch and burned around the strapping of their tracking devices. The torch was mine, but I wiped it down and put their fingerprints all over it, and I also burned their hands and fingers with the side of the hot torch head to give an appearance that they had been screwing around with it. I wanted it to appear they had tried to burn their tracking devices off, but because they were on acid, they also burned around their other ankles. I cleaned up the place so no one would know I was there. On the way home I called the police and told them there were gunshots coming from the house. I still laugh when I think about it. You know the police found them nude and covered with shit. I’m sure they told what had really happened, but who in the hell would believe such a story?”
Seth stood up and walked up to the bars. “That’ll teach them fuckers to mess with someone’s food.”
The Soulless Bitch
Dicky looked as if he wanted to throw up. Seth hung the cowboy hat on a hook that was mounted on a nearby ceiling support beam, then stood by the edge of a square cesspool that was located in the back of the chamber. The pool was about ten feet long, twelve feet wide and five feet deep. It was filled with human feces, blood, urine, and rotted flesh. Shallow trenches that were flowing with human waste were feeding the pool, and catheter tubes were lined up one after another and they were dripping urine into the trenches. A rusted ventilation fan and a filtration system were mounted in the ceiling above the pool to help reduce the foul odor and toxic fumes. In the center of the pool were rotting corpses that were being bound by ropes, chains and barbed wire, and there were severed limbs and torsos floating in the sludge.
Seth pointed to a corpse in the center of the pool. “This is Sandy.”
Dicky noticed a rope that was tied to a ceiling beam above was suspending her decaying body to where her head was just above the human waste. He took a deep breath, then looked down. “How many more stories do I have to bear?”
Seth walked back over to the cell. “What? I didn’t hear your mumblings.”
“Nothing.”
“Fucking look up!”
He glared at Seth.
“Okay, if you want your personal hell to begin, let’s get started.”
He changed his facial expression. “I’m sorry.”
Seth looked around the chamber for a moment. “Have you noticed how everyone in here looks at you like you’re a fucking retard? They would trade places with you in a heartbeat.”
“Yes, I am happy where I am.”
“Yeah, that’s until you find out what I have planned for you, then nobody will want to swap places with you, including the most fucked up ones in here.”
His eyes got real big.
“Don’t start. You’ll just have to wait and see.”
He put his head down.
Seth walked back over to the cesspool and sat down in a large steel chair. “Sandy’s crime is one of the worst crimes that a person can commit. She’s a fucking child killer. A child killer with no remorse. And the worst part is she did it so her husband would feel sorry for her. Her kids’ lives were that meaningless to her. I originally found out about her on the news like everyone else in the country. It was a media circus.”
Dicky stood to his feet. “You telling me that is Sandy Larviskie?”
“The one and only.”
“I remember her story. She drowned her two young children when she drove her car into a creek with them strapped in their car seats. She told the police she was robbed when she was at an ATM withdrawing money, and the guy took her car with her kids in the backseat. She blamed him for their death.”
“That’s right. Do you know the specifics?”
“No, just a few things I read in the paper or what was said on the local news.”
“Well, I followed her trial closely. So close that I was in the courtroom most of the time.”
“How did you manage that without out someone finding out who you are?”
“First, why would anyone one suspect anything? It wasn’t like I was sitting in a pew holding a bat or a severed head. I had disguised myself as a freelance journalist, so I blended in with the rest of them. And besides, I was simply gathering data and had no plans of getting involved, especially if our judicial system did its job.”
“You definitely have some balls.”
Seth laughed. “So do you, with the shit you pulled.”
Dicky walked over to the bars. He had a concerned look. “What do you…”
“Stop! How many times do I must tell you that you’re going to have to wait until story time is over? Just chill out.”
He looked down and shook his head.
“Now back to this soulless bitch. I followed her trial for months. The prosecution team proved she was a bold-face liar and a cold-blooded killer. The ATM where she said she was carjacked was on the east side of town, and she had stopped to make her withdrawal around 10:45 PM. Sandy’s 911 call to the police was at 11:08 PM. The prosecution proved the car was f
looded at 10:14 PM when water shorted out the electrical circuits of the car’s GPS. The drive time from the crime scene to the ATM was approximately 30 minutes. A video camera had filmed her at a convenience store across town buying a soda and cigarettes at 9:55 PM, and the store was on the same side of town where her car was found in the creek; the store was a quarter-mile from the creek. She stated the robbery took place directly in front of the ATM, but at 10:57 PM, the security cameras at the ATM showed she wasn’t in her car, but she had walked past the ATM to a pay phone to call 911. Her cell phone record showed she had placed a call to a taxi company at 10:24 PM when she was at the store. When the prosecution team had shown her phone records she stated she had left her cell phone in the car and the car jacker must have made the call, but a taxi service testified she was picked up at the store around 10:30 PM and dropped off across town a block down from the ATM. The CSI team had found an empty soda can with her fingerprints in a ditch about an eighth mile up the road from the creek. They also found a couple of cigarette butts on the same road with her DNA. Sandy said the carjacker was over six-feet tall, but her car seat was all the way forward. She was a short person, and that forward position is where she would have it adjusted. A person over six feet tall wouldn’t be able to drive the car with the seat adjusted in that position. Her husband testified against her, stating she was angry with him for leaving her for another woman. She had also told him that she was going to make him pay by never letting him see his kids again. When the prosecution team began to prove she was the one who killed her kids, her defence team changed their tactics and started saying she had postpartum depression. She was found guilty for the death of her children and sentenced to a psychiatric hospital for postpartum depression.”
The complete “A Glimpse into Hell” series - 5 books, 195 chapters, 1700 pages, 600K words of pure gore Page 24