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

by Garrett, Wade H.

  “Oh yeah, who were these assholes?”

  “Steve and Randy. They lived in the area. I was here visiting my friend James about nine years ago when...”

  “James? Is that the same one that had to go to the emergency room after wrecking his four-wheeler?”

  Seth looked at Wyatt with a glimmer in his eyes. “Yes, it is. I’m glad you’re actually paying attention to what I’m saying.”

  “This stuff is interesting. Who wouldn’t?”

  “The last fucker I told my stories to.”

  “Yeah, but he was on the receiving end.”

  Seth laughed. “True dat.”

  “Was the four-wheeler accident before or after this?”

  “After this when he moved to Texas.”

  “How did you meet him?”

  “Through a mutual friend about ten years ago.”

  “Four-wheelin’ or something?”

  “Metal detecting at James’ place. Back when he lived here.”

  Wyatt had an odd expression. “You’re just into everything, aren’t you?”

  Seth shook his head. “Is it still hard to imagine that I have a normal social life after everything I’ve told you?”

  “Kinda. It just seems that it would be difficult balancing the vigilante shit with the normal stuff.”

  Seth nodded in agreement. “I know what you mean.”

  “Before this trip, I had pictured you like that guy from the movie Joe Dirt.”

  Seth looked at Wyatt and frowned. “It puts the lotion on the skin dude.”

  Wyatt looked down. “Uh…”

  Seth started laughing hysterically.

  Wyatt looked up and began to chuckle. “You saw the movie I take it?”

  “Sure. But what’s fucked up is Missy said the same damn thing.” Seth smiled. “The lotion guy. That was some funny shit. I’ve always wanted to fuck with someone like that. Maybe we can do it on this trip.”

  Wyatt shook his head. “Let’s just stick to the stories. The truck driver thing almost gave me a heart attack.”

  “Okay, okay. Like I was saying, James had a place here; around forty acres. About nine years ago, I came back to visit, and while I was here James had made plans for us and his son Tyler to go camping at the campsite that he had built on his property. When we got there, we found that someone had stolen everything. The fuckin’ thieves also left a dollar.”

  “Wait a second. What do you mean they left a dollar?”

  “A fucking dollar was left under a log where the rock fire pit had sat.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “To add insult to injury. That’s how assholes operate.”

  “So, what did they steal?”

  “All his rocks, a grill and a sign.”

  Wyatt looked concerned. “Don’t tell me you went after someone for taking some rocks?”

  Seth shook his head. “You have the same fuckin’ attitude the sheriff had.”

  “What sheriff?”

  “Steve Ermus. James had called the sheriff’s department.”

  Wyatt had a smartass grin. “Over rocks?”

  Seth took out his wallet and pulled out a dollar. “Do you have two hundred dollars on you?”

  Wyatt shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah.”

  “Give it to me.” Seth held his hand out.

  “For what?”

  He motioned with his fingers. “Let me have it.”

  “Uh, okay.” Wyatt pulled out his wallet and handed Seth two hundred dollars. “Why do you need it?”

  Seth handed him the dollar, then put the two hundred in his wallet. He put his wallet back in his pocket. Wyatt sat dumbfounded while holding the dollar. “What the fuck is this for?”

  Seth shrugged his shoulders. “You don’t have a problem with someone taking James’ rock and only paying him a dollar for them, so you shouldn’t have an issue with me swapping you a dollar for your two hundred bucks.”

  Wyatt was a little irritated. “They were fucking rocks!”

  “They were Austin stone and large flat rocks and James paid two hundred for them.” Seth looked over at Wyatt. “I didn’t even charge you for the grill or sign, or James’ labor when he hauled them in and set ‘em up.”

  Wyatt was still holding up the dollar. “You didn’t say he bought the rocks. I figured they had been lying around and he picked them up.”

  “That’s what you get for figuring. And it doesn’t matter if he bought them or just picked them up off the ground—they were still his.”

  Wyatt waved the dollar. “What about my money?”

  “What about it?”

  Wyatt shook his head as he put the dollar in his front pocket. “This is fucked up.”

  “When you admit that these fuckers got what they deserved, you might get your money back.”

  “They did.”

  Seth looked at Wyatt. “You haven’t even heard the story. You might think I went overboard.”

  Wyatt crossed his arms, pouting. “Then say it.”

  “Not if you’re going to act like a baby.”

  “Okay, so they took some rocks and a grill. What happened next?”

  “Don’t forget about the sign.”

  “Oh yeah, the freakin’ sign. What was so special about it anyway?”

  “It wasn’t anything special monetary wise, but James had made it for his son. In fact, he had made the campsite for him as well.”

  “So, what did the sheriff do?”

  “Nothing. Just took a report. He acted like he really didn’t give a shit.”

  “Did the sheriff ever find out who took them?”

  “No, but James did.”

  “How?”

  “Later that day he found some ATV tracks, so he followed them from his property, down the road to a house where he found his stuff. His rocks, grill and sign were set up just like they had been at his place.”

  Wyatt interrupted. “By the way, what did the freakin’ sign say?”

  Seth shook his head, sensing Wyatt was still pissed about the money. “Camp Sasquatch.”

  “That’s stupid.”

  “I reckon it is.”

  “You know what I mean?”

  “Sure, buddy. A father spending time with his son is stupid.”

  “That’s not what I meant. I meant that it was stupid for someone to steal it.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “Just drop it. I know what I meant. Just get on with the story.”

  Seth shook his head, knowing Wyatt was just being pissy. “James went to the owner’s house to talk to him. He figured some teenagers had done it and was simply going to ask for the stuff to be returned. The owner of the property, Randy Wilcox, told him to get fucked. James didn’t want to get in a confrontation so he called the sheriff’s department. When Steve came back he was aggravated at James for wasting his time and told James there was nothing he could do.”

  Wyatt seemed a little aggravated. “That’s bullshit!”

  “Yeah, it is. It even gets better. James asked around and found out some interesting stuff about Steve and Randy.”

  “Like what?”

  “They had been friends since high school. And Randy was a known thief.”

  “What about Steve?”

  “Most of the locals liked him. That’s why he was elected sheriff.”

  “He sounds like a dick to me.”

  “He was, but most of the locals had been born and raised in the area like Steve, so he pretty much left them alone. Just like with Randy; not only was he a thief, but he was also a poacher, and Steve just looked the other way.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Sure, it does.”

  “No, it doesn’t. If Randy was stealing from the locals and Steve wasn’t doing anything about it, they would be upset with him.”

  “Randy only stole from the ones who had moved here. He knew not to mess with the locals.”

  “I take it James wasn’t a local.”

  “Right.
He had moved here a couple of years prior to this.”

  “They all sound like a bunch of assholes.”

  “Now you’re catching on.”

  “Did James ever get his stuff back?”

  “No, but he did file a complaint against Steve with the county board.”

  “Good. The bastard deserved to get in trouble.”

  “That didn’t happen. In fact, it only fueled the fire. Over the next few months, someone stole James’ four-wheeler, scratched his truck, threw nails in his driveway and vandalized his house.”

  “Did James ever find out who did all that?”

  “Yeah, it was Randy, and maybe Steve.”

  “How did he know that?”

  “He had set up a game camera and caught Randy fucking around his yard the night his house was vandalized. There was another person, but James couldn’t tell who it was.”

  “What did they do to his house?”

  “Threw oil base paint all over it.”

  “Did he turn them in, or at least Randy since he had been caught red-handed?”

  “He tried to talk to Steve about it since he was the only law enforcement around.”

  “What did he do?”

  “Nothing to Randy, but he did tell James that it sounded like he had made some enemies and that he needed to watch his back.”

  “That sucks.”

  “James was aggravated as well. He filed another complaint against Steve with the county board.”

  “Did anything come of it this time?”

  “Yeah. The next day Steve pulled over James’ wife and harassed her.”

  “That’s not right.”

  “You have to remember this was a rural area, and Steve and all the other fuckers watched each other’s backs. It’s the same political corruption that plagues every aspect of our government.”

  “There must have been something that he could have done.”

  “Not without causing more problems for himself or his family.”

  “That’s bullshit!”

  “It gets worse. James thought everything was over, but a few weeks later when he came home from work he found his dog gutted and hanging from a tree by the neck.”

  Wyatt was very upset. “That’s crossing the fucking line! Was it the two assholes?”

  “James didn’t have any proof at the time.”

  “What about his game camera?”

  “They had taken it.”

  “Fucking pricks. So, did he ever find out who it was?”

  “Yes. About a week later while he was in town, he noticed Randy’s truck was parked next to him when he came out of a store. His dog’s collar was hanging from Randy’s rear view mirror. James went nuts and found him in a hardware store. They got into a heated argument, then a fight.”

  Wyatt was sitting sideways, facing Seth with wide eyes. “Who won?”

  “Neither of them. It was broken up as quick as it got started. But Steve did arrest James for disorderly conduct.”

  “Of course, he did. What a piece of shit”

  “While he was in jail, Steve not only confessed to killing his dog, but told him if he filed any more complaints that he would make sure something worse happened.”

  Wyatt was gritting his teeth. “So, Steve admitted to killing the dog?”

  “Sure did.”

  “Why did Randy have the dog’s collar?”

  “Who knows why assholes do what they do. Probably to rub it in James’ face.”

  “What did James do?”

  “Moved.”

  “That’s bullshit! There must have been something he could have done.”

  “He thought about filing a complaint with the attorney general, but he was worried that Steve would do something to his family.”

  “Do you think Steve would have done something like that?”

  “Anyone that is sorry enough to do what he did to that animal has already proven to me that their capable of doing anything.”

  Wyatt had an eager look. “So, what did you do to the fuckers?”

  “Around seven years ago, I came back to visit James as I was passing through the area, heading to Oklahoma. This was right after I left the Bayou.”

  Wyatt interrupted. “The Bayou? Is that when you had the run in with the fat guy?”

  “Yeah, Earl. After I burnt up his shit I decided to head to Oklahoma to visit this fucker named Barry Muller, who had blamed me for some shit that he had done.”

  Wyatt held his hand up to get Seth’s attention. “Wait a minute. Who’s Barry Muller? And what did he blame on you?”

  “I’ll tell you about that fucker later. Like I was saying, I had planned on stopping on my way through to visit James, but he had moved away. Up to this point, I hadn’t made any plans to go after Randy and Steve because I didn’t want to cause any more problems for James, but I had kept the fuckers in mind, knowing if an opportunity arose I would take it. I had Skip with me, and when I thought about what happened to James’ dog, I decided it was a perfect time to get some payback.”

  “Skip was Earl’s dog, right?”

  “No. My dog.”

  “Is he the same dog that was at Missy’s?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you found him at Earl’s place.”

  Seth looked over at Wyatt. “Yeah, but he didn’t like that fucker and chose to come with me.”

  “Oh… So, who did you go after first?”

  “Randy. I snuck up to his house and dragged his ass out of bed at two in the morning.”

  Wyatt looked eager. “What did you do to that sorry fucker?”

  “First, I cracked him over the head with a club, then secured his arms behind his back with handcuffs. I didn’t feel comfortable fucking him up at his house, so I decided to take him somewhere else.”

  “Why did you feel uncomfortable at his house?”

  “I had a gut feeling.”

  “Was he married or something?”

  “I don’t think so—there wasn’t any evidence of a woman being around. He had a lot of hunting stuff and animal hides everywhere. In fact, his house looked like a fucking hide processing plant. It also seemed to be more than just a one-person operation and I was concerned that if he had a partner or two, that they could come walking in at any time. Before I left I went back in his house and rummaged through his shit, taking items that I could use to torture his ass with.”

  Wyatt was writing in his notebook. “Like what?”

  Seth was pleased that he was being so attentive. “Unfortunately for Randy, he processed his own hides, so he had all kinds of things that interested me, such as ropes, winches, skinning knives, animal traps, pulleys, branding irons and hay hooks. Things like that.”

  Wyatt laughed. “I bet you were excited. Sounds like you hit the jackpot.”

  “I sure did.”

  “So, what did you do next?”

  “I drove way out to a secluded place in the woods. It was nighttime and I didn’t feel like fucking around in the woods in the dark, so I took a nap until the sun came up. It was a cool morning, and when I checked on Randy, he was laying in the back shivering. I could see in his eyes that he had been plotting ways to kill me. I lit a cigarette, then blew smoke at him. “Mornin’, pal.”

  Even though his mouth was duct taped, he was still able to mumble as he stared at me with wild eyes. “You are so dead.”

  Now that it was light, I finally was able to get a good look at him. He was an average sized man, but looked like your typical backwoods asshole. His hair was long and greasy and he had an unkempt beard. His skin was dark from the sun and leather-like. He was still wearing his dingy long johns since I had dragged his ass out of bed in the middle of the night. I dragged his ass out of the truck onto the damp ground, then I knelt and shoved my knee into his chest as he laid on the ground glaring at me. I slapped him across the face. “Listen here, fucker, I need you to cooperate. I don’t know these woods, but I know you do, so we can do this the easy way or hard way.”


  He raised his head off the ground and mumbled through the tape. “Fuck you!”

  I thumped him on the forehead. “Please pick the hard way. I really, really want to try something.” I pulled the tape from his mouth. “Go ahead and make my morning, asshole.”

  He went nuts. “You motherfucker! I’m going to kill your ass! You messed with the wrong…”

  I stood up and kicked him as hard as I could in the face. While he rolled around on the ground yelling I went and grabbed a small leg hold trap and several ropes from my truck. He was still bitching as I walked back up to him. “Hey! I’ll give you something to gripe about.”

  “Screw you, motherfucker!”

  I cut off a rope that was securing his legs, then ripped off his long johns. He was now only being secured by the handcuffs. At first, he just stared at me with uncertainty as he laid bare ass naked on the ground, not really knowing what to do in such a fucked-up situation. I smiled at him. “Hey, stubby, you have the deer-caught-in-headlights-look.”

  He gritted his teeth as he tried to stand up. “Fuck you, weirdo! I’ll cut your fucking throat!”

  I shoved him back down on the ground. “You’re gonna think weirdo when I get done with your ass.”

  He began kicking the shit out of my legs to fight back. I grabbed one of his legs and tied a rope around his ankle while he continued to kick me with his other foot. I tied the other end of the rope to the back of the truck’s bumper, then grabbed his other leg and tied another rope around it. I pulled the rope over to a nearby tree, then tied it off after I stretched his legs in the spread-eagle position. He was absolutely hysterical as I stood over him. “Hey, fucker, you ready to cooperate?”

  “You can go fuck yourself!”

  I kicked him in the ass. “Watch your tongue, fuckhead!”

  He became so angry that his body turned red. “What the fuck! When I get loose I’m going to tear you a new asshole, you son of a bitch!”

  I knelt between his legs. “I bet this thing could crush someone’s nuts.”

  He calmed down when he noticed that I was holding a leg trap. His eyes were filled with fear and his voice was shaking as he said, “Hold up there, partner. There’s no need for this. I will do whatever you ask.”

  “Cool. Then tell me how this thing works?”

  He looked at the trap, then me. “Why?”

  “I want to clamp your dick and balls in it.”