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

by Garrett, Wade H.

  “We need to get rid of him.”

  “First, I need you to take my car to your house. I’ll take care of him and meet up with you later.”

  “What are you planning on doing?”

  “Something that I’ve wanted to try.”

  “Like what?”

  “It’s just something I had thought of a while back but haven’t had the time.”

  “Stop beating around the bush.”

  “I wanna grind his ass up.”

  She looked at me like I was crazy. “Why? That’s too risky. Let’s just bury him in the desert and be done with it.”

  “Too many eyes in the sky.”

  “What about acid?”

  “Aren’t you a nurse?”

  “Yes, I’ve already told you that.”

  “That would be predictable then.”

  “And you think grinding him up is better?”

  “Would you do something like that?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Exactly. And the cops would think that as well.”

  She knew that I was trying to keep her from being a suspect. “That’s fine. I would rather see this through. I’ll drive this car since Zeke is already in here.”

  “You might not like what I have planned.”

  “I can handle it.”

  “That’s fine. Just follow me and stay close. If we get separated for some reason I will pull over and wait for you. Also, don’t panic if a cop pulls you over. As long as you act normal, I will be able to take care of it.”

  “Why would a cop pull me over?”

  “Fuckin’ Murphy’s Law. Shit always happens at the worst possible time. You just have to be prepared.”

  An hour later we pulled up to an automotive garage. I opened the overhead door and had her pull in. She got out and looked around. “Whose place is this?”

  “I’m renting it.”

  “Do you think we’re safe here?”

  “More so than anywhere else.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Build a grinder.”

  “Why would you even plan on grinding him up if you don’t have one already?”

  “You’ll understand when I’m done.” At the time, Missy didn’t understand the importance of why I wanted to grind him up. There are numerous ways to get rid of someone, but I needed to do something to throw off the cops, and since Missy would be a suspect, I needed to do something that was so freakin’ strange that they wouldn’t even consider her. First, I cut a sixteen-inch diameter hole in the passenger’s side floorboard of Chris’ car, then ripped out the headliner and cut another one in the roof right above it. I cut a fifteen-inch diameter culvert at six feet, then closed one end by tack welding some wire mesh in place. I slid the closed end of the culvert in the hole in the roof, then through the one in the floor to where it was resting on the concrete. The culvert needed to be elevated so it wouldn’t drag the road, so I made a leveraging system with a handle where I could raise it up about twelve inches. Surprisingly Chris was awake and begging for help when I pulled him out of the trunk. His abdomen was very swollen and blood was oozing from between his legs. I secured the end of an eight feet piece of string around his neck for a position indicator. I dragged him up on the car’s roof, then slid him feet first into the culvert. His head was almost even with the top of the culvert and I didn’t want anyone to hear his screams, so I closed the end by duct taping some building insulation over the opening. I ran the string between the culvert and the car’s roof so I could have access to it from the inside. The culvert was sticking out of the roof a couple of feet and I needed a way to conceal it. I looked around the shop and found two car tires, so I stuck them over the culvert, stacking one on top of the other. Missy and Zeke were across the shop playing ball when I walked over to them. “Let’s roll.”

  They got into the backseat. She looked at the contraption, then at me. “What in the world is that for?”

  “My human cheese grater.” I looked back at her. “This could get real messy. You can stay here if you want.”

  She laughed. “Seriously? If I could handle what you did back at the house, then I think I will be fine.”

  “Sounds good.” I started the car and pulled out of the garage, then stopped. It was 5:30 AM and about an hour from sunup. “Where’s a rural road with little traffic?”

  “Highway 550. It’s about ten miles north from here. Turn right.”

  “We’ve got about an hour before sunrise, so we need to get rollin’.”

  Chris’ moaned when I hit a bump as I left the parking lot. The sound echoed from inside the tube. Missy leaned forward. “Is Chris in there?”

  “Sure is.”

  “Do I even want to know what you’re doing?” She looked at the culvert as it ran up through the roof. “Do you think someone will notice that?”

  “I threw a couple of tires around it.”

  “Does that make it any better? Kind of redneck, isn’t it?”

  “Someone might take notice of a large diameter pipe sticking out of the roof, but having spare tires in the desert isn’t anything out of the ordinary… Well, maybe on top of a car, but people around here have seen stranger things.”

  “You’re definitely right about that. I’ve seen some real freaks come into the hospital.”

  A few minutes later I turned on Highway 550. “Where does this go? We’re still in a developed area.”

  “About five miles down we’ll be in the desert.”

  She was right. It was a four-lane highway, but had little traffic, and because the terrain was flat, I could see if a car was coming from a long way away. I grabbed the handle that lowered the culvert. “You might want to hold your ears. This could get loud.”

  She slid over to the left side of her seat to get further away from the contraption. “I’m good.”

  Zeke was laying his head in her lap. “You should cover Zeke’s ears. We don’t want him to freak out.”

  “Okay.”

  I lowered the culvert to where the wire mesh was barely grinding on the asphalt. Within seconds, the tack welds broke loose and the mesh ripped off and went sliding across the highway. Chris was screaming at the top of his lungs as his feet were being dragged along the road at seventy miles an hour. I had no way to see what was going on, but I knew his flesh and bones were being ground into tiny particles. I made sure the bottom of the culvert was dragging on the asphalt to prevent him from being jerked out from under the pipe, but it was also causing a lot of sparks. The string was slowly being pulled upwards as his legs were being turned into a bloody trail on the asphalt. Chris’ screaming was almost as loud as the grinding sound of the culvert as it dragged along the road. There was also a lot of banging coming from inside the tube; he was beating the metal with his fist.

  Missy had a grimace of horror as she looked at me through the rear-view mirror. “Oh my God! He’s being torn apart.”

  I lit a cigarette, then slightly rolled down the window. I had to speak loudly so she could hear me over the noise. “He’s actually being ground up. All that will be left of him is a bloody trail with some teeth and hair.”

  “Won’t that be noticeable?”

  “Sure. It will look like something was spilled on the road.”

  “What if the cops are called?”

  “There will be nothing for anyone to collect except for blood, tiny flesh particles and metal fragments, but the blood will quickly turn dark and it will look more like a long oil spill.”

  Chris was now making a strange howling sound. The string had risen about two feet, indicating his legs had been disintegrated up to his knees. A few minutes later, the string had moved up another twelve inches or so; his lower torso was now being dragged. He had stopped screaming and banging—he either passed out or died from blood loss. The very bottom of the culvert was now glowing red and I was concerned it was going to come apart or start bending, so I slightly raised it to where it was barely dragging.

  Missy was
covering her mouth—the inside of the car was filled with the smells of burning flesh and metal. “My eyes are starting to burn.”

  I rolled down the windows. “We’ll be done in a few minutes.”

  Five miles down the road an odd thumping sound started coming from the culvert. Missy tapped me on the shoulder. “What is that?”

  “His head is bouncing around on the road and it’s hitting the inside of the tube.”

  She shook her head. “This is some sick shit.”

  “It’s almost like music to my ears.”

  “You’re nuts.”

  “And it takes one to know one.”

  She laughed. “I trained you well.”

  A few minutes later the sound stopped, but I left the culvert in place for another two miles or so. When I determined Chris’ head had been ground up, I pulled the culvert upwards and locked it in place. I quickly turned the car around and shined the headlights on the road to see if any part of his head was left. I didn’t see anything, so I drove back down the road the wrong way to locate the end of the blood trail. About a mile down, I finally saw the end of it as it faded away. “We’re good, let’s get out of here.” I crossed over the median, heading back to town.

  “I’m glad that’s over. The noise was driving me and Zeke crazy.” She slid back over to the center of the seat, then leaned forward. “You sure the cops won’t figure this out?”

  “If for some minute chance they find his DNA stretched out along this road, the act that caused this would be so bizarre and unusual they wouldn’t suspect a rational person.”

  “Wouldn’t they think someone could have simply dragged him behind a car? I could be accused of doing that.”

  “Dragging causes large section of body parts to be torn off. What we did is ground the fucker into the asphalt; crime scene investigators will know the difference. And most of the smaller particles will be eaten by insects, and if anything larger slipped through, they will be eaten by birds or animals. In a few days, there will be nothing left of the rapist.”

  “Why didn’t we burn him? That would have done the same.”

  “Wasn’t this more exciting?”

  “I guess. But this was my first time doing anything remotely bad. Anything would have been intense.”

  “Yeah, and this will be your last. You don’t want to have to look over your shoulder for the rest of your life, worrying if you’re going to get busted.”

  “I would have never thought that I would have participated in something like this. But the bastard did get what he deserved.” She leaned forward and grabbed my shoulder. “Thanks. I couldn’t have done this without your help.”

  “Makes for an interesting first date.”

  She smiled. “It did.”

  I dropped Missy off at her house, then went back to the shop. I needed to do something with the car. I had a few choices; I could take it to a recycle center, but first I would have to drain all the fluids, repaint it a different color, remove all the identification numbers, then make it look totaled. I could also patch the holes in the roof and floorboard, clean all the splattered body fluids from the undercarriage, then leave it in a bad area with the keys so a lowlife would take it. Another option was for me to dope show it out like his house and leave it on the side of a highway. Or I could just dump it off in a lake.”

  Wyatt held his hands out, palms up. “Well, what did you do with it?”

  Seth smiled. “Packed it full of explosives and blew it into a million pieces.”

  “Really? Why would you do that?”

  “They did it on Myth Busters to a concrete truck. There was nothing left of it.”

  “Yeah, but that must have been loud.”

  “It was, but I had taken it way out into the desert.”

  “Are you worried that someone could still find the pieces and link it to Chris?”

  “Not really.”

  “I figured you would have gotten rid of the evidence better.”

  “Well, I did. I didn’t just take the car out there like it was. I had removed the culvert and cut the roof and passenger’s side floor board out, then cut them into smaller pieces, disposing of them separately. I also removed all the identification numbers. And before I blew it up, I burned the car so all the combustibles would be destroyed, eliminating all incriminating evidence.”

  “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

  “I don’t always explain everything. But remember, everything I do has already been calculated, and I try to plan for all the possible scenarios that could play out.”

  Wyatt looked confused. “How in the hell did you get home?”

  “An enduro bike. I had strapped it to the top of the car.”

  “Of course, you did.”

  “I sure in the hell wasn’t going to walk or call a taxi.”

  “Did they find Chris’ remains?”

  “Nope. It all went without a hitch.”

  “Did you ever hear anything about Chris?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like when they realized he had come up missing? Or what happened with his house when they found it in a mess? Did the police ever question Missy?”

  “Missy never heard a word about it. Nothing ever came up in the news.”

  “That’s strange. I would figure they would have questioned her.”

  “Chris was a troublemaker and a known drug user. It’s typical for pieces of shit like him to disappear. Plus no one missed him, so there was no one to press the issue. If the police had been called, they probably figured he moved away since they didn’t find any evidence of foul play.”

  “When did she find out who you are?”

  “I told her the next day.”

  Wyatt had an eager look. “Really? How did she react?”

  “Didn’t care.”

  “That’s hard to believe.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because of the stuff you do.”

  “I didn’t do it to her.”

  “Still, I would have figured she would have been scared.”

  “Are you scared?”

  Wyatt frowned. “Of course, not.”

  “Then why would she be?”

  “I was thinking it would be different since she’s a woman.”

  “You’re right though. Most people, male or female, would freak out, but the way we met obviously had a big influence.”

  “Do y’all talk about the things you do?”

  “Not really.”

  “But she must read about the stuff in the paper.”

  “I’m sure, but I try to keep my personal life separate from the vigilante shit.”

  Wyatt shook his head. “You have been doing this shit for so long it’s as if it’s a freaking job.”

  Seth smiled. “Yeah, but without benefits. I need to see if there is a union for vigilantes.”

  ********************

  Jim and his team had flown to Dubois, Idaho the following morning after the diner incident. They met with the local Sheriff, then rode with him to a small cabin in the Opal Mountains where Rick Warren lived. Jim went in first, noticing the cabin was full of hunting equipment and animal hides. “It’s clear.” He holstered his firearm.

  Ron made an observation. “There hasn’t been anyone in here in quite a while actually.”

  Jim was shining his light around the room. “I want every square inch of this placed searched.”

  Thomas was looking at some mounted animal heads. “What are we looking for?”

  “Anything out of the norm.”

  Ron yelled out. “Jim, over here.” He had found a box under the bed. He had a disturbed look as he handed it to Jim. “I didn’t expect to find something like this.”

  Jim noticed there were pictures of the contraption that John was in as it was being built. He looked at Thomas. “Go on outside—Skull has been here and the place could be booby-trapped.”

  Thomas was walking out the door. “I’m not an idiot.”

  “And do
n’t mess with anything out there either.”

  The sheriff laughed. “I have a damn rookie just like that.”

  Jim pulled out some drawings. “These look to be the schematics.”

  Ron looked confused. “This doesn’t make sense. I would have figured Skull would have hidden those better.”

  “He wanted us to find it.” He held up the papers. “I need to get these to the hospital—they might be John’s only chance of getting out of that thing.”

  “They could also be bullshit. Skull might have drawn those up just to mislead you.”

  Jim shrugged his shoulders. “I’m running out of options.” He looked at the sheriff. “Take us to your office—I need to fax these to St. Frances hospital in New York.”

  After Jim faxed the drawing, he and his team took off for St. Frances.

  Serrated Steel Cock Ring

  Seth turned off the highway onto a rural road. Wyatt noticed the area was real wooded. “I haven’t been paying attention. Where are we?”

  “Close to the Sabine Wildlife Management Area.”

  Wyatt noticed a body of water. “Is that a lake?”

  “It’s Toledo Bend Reservoir.”

  “Where’re we going?”

  “About fifteen miles to the west of here I fucked up some assholes in the woods. I want to see if their remains are still there.”

  Wyatt’s eyes opened wide. “Is that smart?”

  “It was four and a half years ago. If the cops found them I highly doubt they’re still hiding out and waiting to see if I’m going to return.”

  “Who did you kill?”

  “I didn’t kill anyone.”

  “So, they’re still alive?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Then you did kill them?”

  “No, I left them for dead.”

  “Then how did they die?”

  “They most likely killed each other.”

  Wyatt looked confused. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would they do that?”

  “You’ll understand when I tell their story.”

  Wyatt opened his notebook and wrote down a few things. “So, who were these people and why did you bring them out here?”

  “Assholes.”