The complete “A Glimpse into Hell” series - 5 books, 195 chapters, 1700 pages, 600K words of pure gore

by Garrett, Wade H.

  “The basement.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I whipped out several bills.

  “Nope, have no idea.”

  I went ahead and made it a grand.

  “You a cop?”

  “Nope.”

  “Show me. Flip out your cock.”

  I flipped it out through my zipper.

  “Okay, zip it up and follow me.”

  She took me across the room, then down some stairs. There was another thug at the bottom by a closed door. She whispered in his ear, then handed him a couple of bills. He had a chicken shit grin as he opened the door. She led me into a dimly lit room and pointed to some doors. “Find one that is empty. When you’re done, knock on the door and Wookie will let you back out.” She left the room, closing the door behind her. I had a gut feeling that she and the thug weren’t allowed to let just anyone in.

  In the back of the room, there were ten narrow doors; three were shut, the rest open. I went to one that was open and noticed the room was no bigger than a small closet. The door swung outwards, and a wooden seat was mounted to it so someone could sit down when it was shut. I pulled out a flashlight, selected the lowest setting, then shined it in the little room. I noticed a window in the back, but it was blacked out. There was a mechanical looking device below the window, and a mechanism on the adjacent wall that looked as if it took some type of tokens. It also had two push buttons; one labeled show, the other blow. I quickly realized what the room was for. A pervert enters, closes the door, sits down, puts three tokens in the machine, the window opens, and there’s his peep show. If the perv wants a blowjob, he can put in three more tokens to open the mechanical gate, revealing a glory hole. Basically, a pervert can get a blowjob while watching his dirty show.

  I shook my head as I thought about it; only in New York would some asshole come up with this type of contraption. I needed to know if underage girls were actually being used, but I didn’t have any tokens to operate the window. When I exited the little room, I noticed a machine against one of the walls; it took paper currency and credit cards in exchange for the tokens. This is what the girl back in the park meant by a hefty price; the tokens were a hundred dollars apiece. That was six hundred bucks if the perv wanted the works. I didn’t want to drop another three hundred dollars just to activate the window, so I tried to open one of the closed doors, but it was locked. The door opened outwards, meaning the hinges were accessible on my side. I pulled out both hinge pins, then opened it.

  A pervert was standing up with his dick in the hole, staring back at me with a terrified look. I jabbed a needle into his neck, knocking him out, then turned him sideways as he fell to the floor. I glanced in the window and noticed there were young girls on a raised platform above the glory holes, indicating they were there just for the show, hopefully. No telling who or what was under the platform sucking off these lowlifes. I stepped out of the room, bent down and sliced the pervert’s throat. I quickly shut the door and reinstalled the hinge pins. The door was still locked from the inside, and I didn’t see any signs with a time limit, so most likely no one would find the perv until I was long gone. Now that I had confirmed the woman’s story from earlier, I left the building.”

  Wyatt was writing in his notebook, then paused and looked up. “So, the woman in the park was right?”

  “She was. I usually don’t take the word of others because they have the tendency to stretch the truth when they’re upset, or if they have something to gain. I like the tips, but I also want to catch these assholes in the act if I can.”

  “You could have called the cops and reported what you saw.”

  Seth laughed. “The guy that was in the pervert vending machine was a cop.”

  Wyatt shook his head. “You got to be fucking kidding?”

  “Nope. That’s why I cut his throat.”

  Wyatt thought for a moment. “I’m not a vengeful person, but I can’t stand people who harm children. He got what he deserved.”

  “Not really. He simply went night-night and didn’t suffer.”

  Wyatt wrote in his notebook, then looked up. “What happened next?”

  “After I left the building, I went around the side of it and climbed up a fire escape. I crawled through a window into a storage room, then cracked open the door that led into a hallway. It was clear, so I snuck down to a door that had light coming from under it. I knew someone was in there because I could see a shadow flickering around under the door. There was no nameplate, so I wasn’t sure if it was Joel’s office. I snuck back down the hallway to see if there was anyone else on the floor. When I came to the end of the hallway, there was another thug; he was getting a blowjob in the stairwell from a dude. When he popped his load and the other guy was gone, I snuck up behind him and stuck my sickle against his throat. “Don’t make a sound.”

  He couldn’t move without being cut—the sickle’s long, curved blade wrapped halfway around his neck. He held his hands out. “Easy, man. I’m not going to give you any trouble.”

  I searched him for weapons, finding none, then I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Secure your arms behind your back.”

  He put them on. “Go easy, dude, I’ll…”

  “Shh. Not so loud.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  I leaned in towards his ear. “Where’s Joel?”

  He spoke softly. “Upstairs, last room to the right.”

  “Here’s how it’s going to go down. I’m here for your boss, not you, but if you warn him or yell out I’m going to slice your package in two.” I removed the sickle while I was standing behind him and then stuck it between his legs where it curved around his dick and balls.

  He looked straight ahead while standing still as a sculpture. “You just tell me what to do.”

  “Walk towards Joel’s office.”

  “Okay.”

  I followed directly behind him with the sickle jammed in his ass crack. He knew he couldn’t take off on me because the pointed end of the blade curved upwards and was poking him in his dick. As we moved down the hallway I unscrewed the bulbs in the wall sconces. When we reached Joel’s door, I leaned towards his ear and softly spoke. “Knock, and when he responds tell him you need to talk to him.”

  He knocked. “Hey, boss.”

  A loud and obnoxious voice shouted out. “What the fuck you want?”

  “I need to have a word with you.”

  “Go the fuck away! I’m busy.”

  I leaned into the dude’s ear and whispered. “Tell him that Charlie is dead.”

  “Hey, boss, Charlie is dead.”

  A few seconds later the door flung open. I was squatted down behind the thug, hidden in the dark. The man in the room matched Charlie’s description of Joel; a bald Freddie Mercury looking fucker. He was even wearing the same type of sleaze ball clothing that Charlie was wearing—brown slacks and a black silk shirt that was unbuttoned from his neck to his stomach, revealing his hairy chest and gold chains. He had on black loafers, argyle dress socks and his wrists and fingers were covered with gold jewelry. Before Joel had a chance to speak, I shot him in the face with a tranquilizer dart from a custom-made dart gun. He took two steps backwards, and before he fell to the floor, I had pushed the other guy into the room, noticing a woman sitting on a couch nude. Before she could scream I shot her in the arm with a dart. I shut and locked the door, then told the thug to sit on the couch beside the woman. I holstered my dart gun, then tossed my backpack to the floor.

  The man was nervous. “Dude, I don’t want any part of this shit. Joel has armed men and this shit is gonna get me caught in the cross fire if they come up here.”

  I opened the left side of my jacket and brandished my Sig556 pistol equipped with a thirty-round magazine, then opened my right side, showing a silenced pistol and a large handgun. “Is there any reason someone should come up here? Any normal routines I need to know about?”

  He sat dumbfounded.
>
  “You’re not going to get hurt if you do what I ask. By the way, what is your name?”

  He took a deep breath. “Justin.”

  “Okay, Justin, is there any…” About that time, someone knocked on the door. I eased over to it and opened it, sticking my silenced pistol to the person’s face; it was another hired thug. He was a large tattooed man, completely bald on top, goatee, hoop earring in his left ear and shades to increase his coolness factor. He was the asshole at the second door. I searched him and found a handgun and a large tactical knife. “Cool knife.” I stuck it in my waistband, then unloaded his gun and tossed it in a trashcan.

  He was pissed. “Hold up, dude! That’s a custom Kimber you just chunked.”

  I pointed to the couch. “Sit your ass down.”

  He was gritting his teeth as he sat next to Justin. “This is bullshit!”

  I searched Joel and found a derringer. I held it up so they could see it. “North American Arms in .22 magnum. I’ve wanted to get another one.” I stuck it in my pocket.

  Justin looked scared, but I could sense the other guy was eye fucking me through his shades. He was grinning like a possum eating shit. “You just signed your death warrant, chief.”

  I looked at Justin. “Who does this fucker think he is?’

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.”

  The bald man threw his right arm on the back of the couch. “I’m the guy you’re gonna wish you didn’t fuck with.”

  I laughed. “Oh my, we have a badass in our presence.”

  He was pumping his fist. “I’ll cut your fucking head off.”

  I was looking at Justin as I motioned to the bald thug with my thumb. “Fuckhead must think he’s Al Qaeda.” I looked at the bald fuck as I pulled his knife from my waistband. “With what, Nimrod? I have your knife.”

  He removed his sunglasses. I could see the anger in his eyes as he glared at me. “I’ve fucked smart-asses like you in prison.”

  “I’m shaking in my worn-out shoes.”

  He sat smiling. “You better be scared.”

  “Speaking of prison, what did you do?”

  “The last time for…”

  Before he could finish his sentence, I lunged forward, and with all my strength, I drove his knife into the top of his head, sinking the long blade deep inside his brain. His body started shaking, then his head fell forward. Justin stared in horror as he looked at the knife handle as it was sticking out from the top of the man’s head. I quickly dragged Joel over to his desk and sat him in his office chair. I leaned him back, then put one of his arms over his eyes so it would appear that he was trying to rest. The woman was still unconscious, so I positioned her on the end of the couch and covered her body with a blanket to appear as if she was taking a nap. I leaned the convict back against the couch and put a pillow behind his head to hold it upright. I put my toboggan over his head to hide the handle of the knife and put his shades back on. I looked at Justin. “How do y’all communicate?’

  He nodded towards his right pocket. “Cell phones.”

  “How many more are working here tonight?”

  “Around twenty.”

  “Not what I meant. The guards.”

  “Four.”

  “Do you have their numbers?”

  “Yes.”

  I removed his cuffs. “Any more assholes like this one?” I nodded towards the convict.

  “Just Chaz. Maybe Tito. Rick is okay. I don’t know the fourth guy, or his name. He works short hours.”

  “Pull out your phone and call Tito. Tell him that Mr. Logan wants to see him right away.”

  He pulled out his phone and made the call. I sat on the couch between the woman and the dead convict and I had Justin stand by the door. A few minutes later there was a knock. Justin opened the door and motioned for a man to come in. He walked up to the desk. “Yes, sir.” When Joel didn’t respond, he looked back towards Justin, who nodded towards my direction. The man turned and noticed I was pointing a handgun equipped with a silencer at him. “Are you Tito?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Remove your weapons, unload any firearms, then lay them on the desk.”

  “What the fuck is this shit?”

  “Do it, asshole!”

  He pulled a gun from a shoulder holster, removed the magazine and ejected a round that was in the chamber. He set it on the desk, then pulled out a knife from his waistband and laid it next to the gun. “This is fucked up.” He looked at Joel, then Justin. “What’s wrong with Mr. Logan?”

  I walked over to him. “We’re playing hide-and-go-seek. He thinks we can’t see him if he covers his face.” I verified that he had removed all his weapons. “Go sit behind the desk and slightly rock Joel’s chair back and forth.”

  “You serious?”

  “Get your ass over there.”

  He shook his head as he sat behind Joel. “This is fucking lame.”

  I sat back on the couch. I looked over at Justin. “Who do you want to call next?”

  “I guess Chaz.”

  “I assume he is packing also?”

  He nodded. “Probably.”

  “What kind of person is he?”

  “An asshole.”

  “Explain.”

  “He’s been in and out of prison. He beats up the acts. Usually high on cocaine.”

  “What does he look like?

  “He will be wearing a red do-rag, large mustache, tattoos on his neck.”

  “Is he the asshole in the basement?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The skank called him Wookie.”

  “That’s what the females call him.”

  “Get his ass up here.”

  He made the call. Several minutes later the door opened without a knock. When Chaz walked in I shot him in the head with my silenced Ruger Mark III chambered in .22 caliber. The thud his body made when hitting the floor was louder than my pistol when it had fired.

  Justin stared at me in fear as he stood over Chaz’s body. “Oh my God!”

  “Drag his ass behind the desk.”

  Tito was still rocking Joel back and forth. “Good job, Tito. You can chill for a bit.”

  He stopped rocking the chair. “How long you going to make me do this?”

  “Until I say.” When Justin was done hiding Chaz’s body, I called him back over. “Let’s get Rick up here next.”

  “Please don’t hurt him—he’s not a bad guy. And his mother has been real sick and he takes care of her.”

  “What does he look like?”

  He started getting emotional. “Please don’t do anything to him.”

  “Hey, I need to know so I don’t put a bullet in his head.”

  “He’s the door man. He has brown hair, tall and slender, neatly trimmed beard and…”

  “Got it. I saw him when I came in. Does he have a firearm?”

  “Not that I am aware of.”

  “Call him.”

  He took a deep breath, then made the call. A few minutes later someone knocked on the door. Justin opened it, then Rick walked in. He looked around the room and noticed me sitting on the couch with my legs crossed. He nodded. “Hey, I saw you at the door earlier.” He looked at Joel as Tito rocked him. “Did you need to see me, Sir?”

  I pulled out my pistol and pointed it at him. “Rick.”

  He looked over at me. “Easy, man.” He raised his hands. “What’s going on?”

  “Remove your jacket and raise your shirt up. I want to see if you have any weapons.”

  He looked at Joel, and when he didn’t respond, he looked at Justin. “Is this for real?”

  Justin motioned for him to do it. “Do what he says.”

  Rick took off his leather jacket, revealing that he was wearing skinny jeans and a skintight shirt. He started to pull up his shirt but I motioned with my hand for him to stop. “No need to lift your shirt. I can tell you’re not carrying with the shit you’re wearing.” I pointed at him, then laughed. “I see why Justin was
concerned for your well-being—you were in the stairwell earlier.”

  He looked at Justin. “Uh…”

  Justin shrugged his shoulders.

  I stood up. “Y’all two sit on the couch.”

  They didn’t say anything as they sat down between the woman and convict. I looked back towards the desk. “Tito, stop rocking the chair and get over here.”

  He cautiously walked over. “Do you know what kind of shit you’re getting yourself in?”

  “Sit the fuck down and be quiet.”

  He looked at the couch and noticed it was full. “Where?”

  “Just sit on the floor.”

  He sat on the floor next to the woman. I walked over, took my toboggan off the convict’s head, then stuck it back on mine. Rick was sitting next to the convict, and when he noticed the knife, he scooted away as far as he could. He looked at Justin, then me. “Is he dead?”

  “Ask him.”

  He reached up and touched the handle of the knife. The convict’s head fell forward, causing his upper torso to move forward as well, then his body rolled onto the floor.

  I walked over and took his sunglasses. I stuck them in my pocket. “I guess he will not need these any more.” I looked at Tito. “The convict here was kind enough to give up his seat for you.”

  He gave me a glare. “Daniel.”

  “I don’t give a fuck what his name is.”

  He didn’t say anything as he moved to the couch. Rick was shaking with fear. I looked at him. “Dude, chill. If you don’t get stupid, you’ll go home tonight.”

  “I promise I won’t cause you any trouble.”

  I handed Justin two pairs of handcuffs. “Cuff yourselves to each other. I don’t want y’all to take off or do something stupid. I’m here for Joel, his accomplices, and the perverts in the basement.”

  Justin and Rick cuffed their arms together. Rick turned to Tito and was in the process of cuffing his other arm to his, but Tito lunged from the couch towards me. The blade of my sickle sliced off half his face before he was able to take his second step. He fell to the floor, screaming as he held his hands over his face. He was making a lot of racket, so I cracked him over the head with the end of my sickle. Justin and Rick had a grimace of terror as they stared at Tito. His right eye, right cheek and half his nose had been sliced off. His facial bones could be seen under the blood as it was pouring out of his face. I started to fold up my sickle, but noticed some skin and hair on the blade. I bent down and wiped it off on Tito’s pants, then folded and holstered it. Before Tito bled out, I grabbed a pouch from my backpack and poured a white powdery substance on Tito’s face. The substance quickly absorbed his blood and turned red. I looked at the two men of the couch. “Clotting agent. I haven’t determined if he lives or dies yet.”