He tried to speak as he stared at her, but his mouth was extremely sore from the puncture holes and wires in his mouth.
She stepped forward. “Don’t look at me, you fucker! I will cut your fucking eyes out.” She pulled a kitchen knife out of her back pocket.
He looked back at me. I laughed. “Damn, fool. She might be meaner than I am.”
He was still groggy, but was starting to notice the pain around his dick, hand and stomach. He tried to pick his head up to see what was going on, but the intense pain of his belly being wired closed was too much. I pulled the mirror off the bathroom wall, then held it above him so he could see his nude body. “Check out what your dick got you into.”
He moaned out as he stared at the barbaric treatment that he had received.
I set the mirror down. “Before we get started, we’re going to play show and tell.” I pulled a torch out of my bag. I lit it, then held it where he could see it. “Here’s the show part. You’re going to do the tell part.”
He stared at the flame and mumbled. “Please don’t.”
“Did you rape Shelley?”
He shook his head to indicate no.
I stuck the flame to the top of his dick that was slightly protruding from his fist. He thrust his head back and flopped around as I held him down, cooking the piss from his pee hole. Missy was pacing back and forth, trying not to look. When the head of his dick and the side of his hand were charred, I removed the flame. He had torn gashes in his dick from jerking his hand around while trying to avoid the flame. “Tell me what you did!”
He was breathing hard and crying as he mumbled. “I didn’t do it.”
“I’m now going to burn your balls off, and I’m not going to stop until your nuts rupture and sperm is oozing out onto the bed.”
As soon as I started moving the flame he mumbled out, “I did it! I did it! Please stop hurting me. I will do whatever you want.”
“Give me details so I know you’re not confessing to something that you didn’t do.”
Missy started getting upset. “Hey, I know he did it.”
I looked at her. “I know. But I like to make these fuckers admit to what they did so they know why they’re being punished.” I looked back at him. “Spill it fucker.”
He changed his mind about confessing. “I didn’t do it.”
To his horror, I straddled him, holding him down, and began burning his nuts. He bucked around like a horse while hollering. I didn’t stop until there was sperm boiling out of his ruptured skin. He had passed out about the time one of his testicles fell out. When I rolled off him I noticed Missy looked nauseated. “That’s what he gets for changing his story.”
She was holding her hand over her mouth as burnt flesh and a strange sperm smell engulfed the air. She was trying not to get sick. “Oh my God! This is sick.”
“No worse than what he did.”
She looked at me. “I’m getting worried. What if someone hears the commotion or smells this?”
I laughed. “They will think he’s having hot sex.”
She shook her head. “How can you make jokes at a time like this?”
“It’s funny.” I walked over to Chris and slapped him in the face. Within seconds he started coming around. “You ready to tell me some details? I have a full bottle of propane if not.” I lit the torch head.
Tears were running down his cheeks as he told on himself. When he was done, I looked at Missy. “Was that in line with your sister’s story?”
She nodded to indicate yes.
I shut off the torch and looked Chris in the eyes. “I have inserted some Ben Wa balls in your ass and they’re tied to a trashcan hanging outside the window. I also have a water hose running to the trashcan. Water weighs a little more than eight pounds per gallon, and the trashcan holds forty-four gallons. When it’s filled, around three hundred and fifty pounds will be tugging at the Ben Wa balls, but I can ensure you one thing, before it reaches that, your ass will be ripped out.”
He had a grimace of terror. “Please don’t do this.”
I patted him on the head. “Don’t worry, pal. Since I’m such a nice guy, I’m going to give you a way out.”
His eyes lit up. “Oh, please have mercy. I’m sorry for…”
I put my finger across my mouth. “Shh. Listen, fucker. I have a special treat for ya. When the pain gets too intense, you have several choices. First, you can rip your dick apart and pick up the knife that is lying beside you.” I looked at Missy and held my hand out. When she gave me the knife, I set it beside him. “The knife is laying right here. You can use it to cut the rope coming out of your ass, that’s if you can reach it. You can also cut off your hand that is being bound to the headboard, allowing you to be pulled out the window. If you don’t like those options, you can simply let your ass be ripped out, then bleed to death after several hours of intense pain. It’s your choice.”
Terror overcame him again. He started mumbling as I walked towards the door. Missy held her hand out to tell me to stop. “Let me. I want that fucker to know I’m the one who turned on the water.”
“Turn it on only halfway; we want him to get the full experience, slowly.” When she walked out of the room, I looked down at him as he looked back in fear. “You better be glad she is here. I might have done something really fucked up.” I started hearing water running. “Hear that? Sounds like you better make up your mind what you want to do.” I picked up the knife and waved it in front of his face. “You can also cut your throat.”
He started panicking. “Please. I don’t deserve this. I will turn myself in.”
Missy came back in. “You had your chance, you sorry bastard.” She grabbed the torch. “How do you light this?”
I lit it for her.
She held the torch for a second, then handed it back to me. “Just get this bastard dead.”
Chris was staring in fear. He was in a lot of pain and knew begging wasn’t going to help his situation. The trashcan was now filled with several gallons of water. The rope was getting tight and the pressure it was creating was fairly painful. He wrapped his feet around the rope, trying to relieve the tension, but the pain from his cut stomach muscles prevented him from really accomplishing anything that was helpful. When the trashcan had around five gallons he started jerking around. Around ten gallons he was hollering muffed sounds through his wire stitching. When the can reached around twenty gallons or so, his bed slid across the floor, and when it hit the wall, the sudden jerk caused some of the netting to protrude from his pucker hole. He immediately threw his head back, screaming while his body trembled. The pain was so intense that he started pulling at his penis, stretching and twisting it in all directions. I was holding my nuts as I watched his facial expression, accompanied by pain filled moans and muffled screams. Around thirty gallons he thrust his head back as he ripped his hand away, tearing his penis into pieces. His hand was still wired closed around pieces of bloody flesh as he grabbed at the knife.
The weight of the trashcan was now stretching him where his body was being slightly lifted from the bed. It didn’t look as if he was going to be able to pick up the knife, so I helped him out by sliding the handle into his fist. He immediately tried to cut the rope, but couldn’t reach it. He was cutting gashes across his ass cheeks as he desperately tried to cut himself free. I stepped forward and yelled over his muffled screams. “Your hand! Cut your fucking hand off.”
He reached up and started cutting at his flesh around his wrist, but he didn’t have the proper leverage to do a full amputation due to being stretched out. Missy started gagging and covered her mouth as she stared at the barbaric sight. The rope was now pulling Chis so tight that his body was spinning around and around above the bed. Around twelve inches of shit and blood covered netting was pulled from his ass, and it appeared at any moment he was going to be torn apart.
At around thirty-five gallons his ass started ripping, allowing one of the balls and some intestines to protrude from his ass. Chris w
ent into survival mode and started jabbing the knife into his elbow. Every time he thrust the knife inside his joint, he would twist it around. His arm was almost severed when his ass tore wide open, then entangled intestines and the balls came blowing out. The trashcan went crashing to the ground, followed by the balls and some of his intestines. I looked at Missy. “That made way too much noise.” I quickly closed the window and shut the blinds. She was standing off to the side with a strange expression. “Are you okay?”
“Is he dead?”
I checked his vitals. “Nope. Just passed out.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what to say, except that was the sickest thing I have ever seen.”
“Yeah, that was pretty cool, wasn’t it?”
The Dope Show
Concern overcame Missy. “You’re not going to let him live, are you? He knows who I am.”
“Of course, not. If I was working alone I would leave the fucker here after I fucked him up some more, but since you’re involved, we need to get rid of his body.”
“How are we going to get him out of here without being seen?”
“We’ll take his Nissan sedan that’s in the garage. I’ll drop you off at my car, then I’ll dispose of him and his car while you head home.”
Her eyes got big. “Oh crap! What if someone found your car? We’ve been here for quite a while.”
“Doesn’t matter, there’s nothing in there that will link it to us.”
“My purse and clothes are in there.”
“No, they’re not. I put them in my bag right along with all my stuff.”
She looked relieved. “I was worried there for a moment.”
“And besides, it would only get towed and I would go get it back before sun up.”
She followed me downstairs. “Go sit in the Nissan with Zeke while I clean up the joint. It will take me a while to get everything done, so be patient this time.”
She went into the garage as I started on the cleanup. First, I went outside and put the rope, balls and intestines in the trashcan, then took them into the garage. I went back outside and connected the water hose to a faucet, then washed the blood and shit off the side of the house. Chris was still alive, but unconscious. I wasn’t done with his ass, so I injected him with a tranquilizer to keep him asleep. I rolled him up in the shower curtain, secured it with rope, then hauled him to his car and stuck him in the trunk. Missy was reclined in the passenger seat and Zeke was lying in the driver’s seat with his head resting on her lap. She looked over at me. “You done already?”
I walked next to her window. “No. Just getting started. I put dickless in the trunk.”
She closed her eyes. “I could go to sleep.”
“I know how you feel. Fucking people up can be exhausting.” I went back inside and picked up all the items that I had used, then stuck them in the truck next to Chris. When I moved his bed back to its original location I noticed some blood and ass juice had splattered on the floor and on the wall below the window. I remembered seeing a dildo in a dresser next to his dope stash when I was snooping through his shit. I took the rubber dick and rolled it around in the human fluids, then put it under his bed. That way if any traces of blood or fecal matter were found elsewhere it would seem that he had a thing for ass play. After I cleaned up the carpet and wall, I went through his dope stash. He had a large bag of marijuana, several small bags of cocaine, some LSD and a mixture of prescription pills. I showed Missy. “Hey, look what I found.”
She looked at me as if I was crazy. “I don’t mess with that stuff.”
“Nor do I.”
“Then why are you so excited?”
“I’m going to leave this stuff spread around. It will make his disappearance look as if it was done by some drugged out, crazy ass people.”
“How are you going to make that believable?”
I pulled out a zip lock bag full of hair. “I am going to scatter some of this around also.”
“What is that?”
“Hair.”
“From who?”
“Drugged out, crazy ass people.”
She looked confused. “Why would you have something like that?”
“When you do what I do, it’s smart to set up other lowlifes, or plant so much false evidence that any credible evidence found will be inadmissible in court. It also confuses the shit out of the police.”
“Okay… But where did you get it?”
“It’s a very old habit. Anytime that I find a stray hair from a scumbag, I take it for just such an occasion.” I pulled out another bag. “This one has hairs that I’ve taken from barbershops from all over the country.”
“You know that’s weird?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s not like I make fucking dolls out of them.”
She laughed. “We’ll have to talk about that one later.”
I had to save face. “Seriously. I use them so I won’t get busted after I mess someone up.”
“We’re going to talk about that too.”
I felt stupid. “I’m going to go finish up.”
“Hold up. Are you going to dump all of those? That might look suspicious and backfire on us.”
“I’m only going to leave about ten from each bag. That way if this turns into a crime scene and one of your hairs is found, no court will convict you over it when there were so many others planted. Basically, it would be inadmissible as evidence.”
She looked at her watch. “Then get after it, cowboy.”
She was right; time was ticking. I went into the living room and slid the couch back in place. I removed all the items from the coffee table and dusted it with cocaine. To make it more realistic, I took a razor blade and made some scrape marks in the powder. I did the same thing on the kitchen table and kitchen countertop. It was important for the police to find some LSD. Chris had the liquid form. I sat out a punch bowl, poured in a little bit of orange juice, added some of the LSD, then swished it around to get the entire inside covered with the residue so it would appear that it had been full. To make it look more believable, I dipped plastic Dixie cups in the juice, coating their insides, then left them lying around throughout the house. Next, I scattered around small pieces of marijuana, ensuring they were embedded in the carpet and couch. It was important that I didn’t go overboard leaving too many drug particles; first, it would look suspicious, as if someone was trying to do exactly what I was doing. Secondly, dope heads don’t waste their dope. And speaking of dope. You can’t have a dope party without people having the munchies. That’s why I took all sorts of food from the pantry and refrigerator and made a complete mess of the kitchen and living room, leaving empty packages and spilled food everywhere.
I needed to do something really strange, like what a drugged-out person would do, so I put on some gloves and grabbed a piece of Chris’ intestine from the trashcan, then I drew fucked up pictures all over the walls with his shit. I rubbed shit all over the restroom walls, toilet, tub and sink, then grabbed every door knob, cabinet handle and majority of the food containers. I found a can of spray paint in the garage and spray painted stupid stuff on the walls, like big dicks, pussies and stick people having sex. I even wrote so and so was here and other bullshit sayings, including how cops suck.
During my cleanup, I had found a vacuum cleaner in a closet, so I took the collection bag and squeezed it over and over, slightly puffing out dust, lint and hairs all over the house. I did it in a fashion where it wasn’t obvious what had happened, but allowed just enough of the particles to be spread around, causing an enormous amount of evidence to be collected and analyzed along with the hairs that I had brought. The bag looked as if it hadn’t been changed in a long time, if ever, and no telling how many people had come and gone over the years, and now their DNA was spread around overshadowing anything that Missy or I might have lost. Chris had a stereo system in the living room with an assortment of CDs stacked on a shelf. I skimmed through his music, finding Marilyn Manson. I put it in his CD
player and played the song, The Dope Show. I set it to repeat so it would play over and over, then adjusted the volume where it wouldn’t disturb the neighbors, but loud enough to irritate the cops. I did this and all the other weird stuff just to throw off the police, knowing this type of unusual behavior wouldn’t be linked back to someone like Missy.
Before I left, I slid the stove back in place, picked up my sensors and unlocked the front door. When I got in the garage I put the trashcan, vacuum cleaner, the vacuum bag, and everything else that I had used to fuck up Chris, in the trunk, plugged in the overhead door, then Missy and I drove away.”
Wyatt was writing in his notebook. Seth lit a cigarette, then looked over at him. “I wouldn’t document anything about Missy.”
He looked up. “I didn’t use anyone’s real name or the details that would link her to Chris.”
“Good.”
“That was an interesting story. I see what you meant about having more to y’all’s relationship. I can’t believe she didn’t freak out.”
“You have to realize she had a lot of anger towards Chris for what he had done to her sister. At that time, she was willing to take the law into her own hands, knowing she would lose everything if she was caught.”
“Did she regret it later?”
“She knows he got what he deserved.”
“What did you do with Chris?”
“After we left his house I drove over to my car. Fortunately, there were some vehicles remaining from the party, meaning no one had probably noticed it.”
“How do you know the cops weren’t staking it out?”
“First off, there would be no reason for that, and secondly, I had sensors that would have alerted me if someone got close to it.”
“I should have known you had something set up like that.”
“Of course. I do a lot of things to reduce the chance of getting busted. After I drove by and noticed it was clear, I pulled over about a block away. Missy seemed a little worried as I looked over at her. “Just stay calm and everything will be okay.”
The complete “A Glimpse into Hell” series - 5 books, 195 chapters, 1700 pages, 600K words of pure gore Page 75