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

by Garrett, Wade H.

  “You got to be fucking kidding me! I said that’s enough.”

  “Alrighty then, you flesh flute prodigy.”

  “You’re freakin’ nuts. Just tell me what happened when a fuckhead went into the trailer?”

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to get your panties in a wad.”

  “I’m not gay, so I’m not worried about it.”

  “That’s the attitude I’ve been looking for. Now back to the thieves. Usually more than one thief comes to steal your shit. That’s why I designed the trailer as I did; to prevent the others from getting spooked when one of them got their ass incinerated.”

  “Did you get to watch?”

  “Of course, I did. I had cameras set up inside and out. What would be the point in doing this if I couldn’t see all the excitement that those assholes were having.” Seth looked at Wyatt with a serious expression. “But I also used them to ensure only lowlifes got burned up. The system could be shut down remotely if a kid, cop or some other innocent person entered the trailer. In fact, I had redundant emergency stop systems in place in case one failed.”

  Wyatt’s eyes got big. “Damn, that would be messed up if the wrong person went in the trailer.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Have you ever injured or killed an innocent person?”

  “No.”

  “I’m surprised with all the shit that you do.”

  “I know. Back when I was doing the long-term thing, I took my time and planned every step, reducing that chance. Now it’s more chaotic and spur of the moment and I have to really pay attention to what I’m doing.”

  “What would you do if someone did get hurt?”

  “I don’t even want to think about that.”

  “That’s odd. I thought you had a plan for everything.”

  Seth looked at Wyatt. “Of course, I know what I would do. I just don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Oh.” Wyatt couldn’t let it go. “Would you turn yourself in?”

  “Fuck no.”

  “Then what?”

  “What would you do?”

  “I wouldn’t be doing this type of stuff in the first place.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that.”

  Wyatt had a strange look. “There you go again bringing that up. You can’t say something like that and not finish it.”

  “I’m just saying if you were in my shoes you might.”

  Wyatt looked out his window. “Perhaps.”

  Seth was proud of Wyatt. He had come a long way from being the naive person he had first met back at the hotel. Seth reached under his seat and pulled out a leather holster. He handed it to him. “I want to give this to you.”

  He noticed it was Seth’s sickle. “I can’t take this.”

  “You’ve earned it.”

  “Haven’t you had this for a long time?”

  “Since day one. I cut my first throat with it.”

  Wyatt was intrigued as he looked at it. “I don’t know what to say. Thanks, wouldn’t be enough.” He looked at Seth. “I do appreciate this.”

  “It’s all good.”

  Wyatt wrote in his notebook, then set it to the side. “Go on with your story.”

  “Aren’t you going to take notes?”

  “I’m getting tired of writing down everything. I’ll remember it and write it down later.”

  “Like I was saying, I had driven the truck to Houston. I parked it in a gravel parking area of an abandoned beer joint. I couldn’t have found a better location. It was on a corner lot, and one of the streets was a four lane with lots of traffic. The side of the trailer could be seen from this busier street, ensuring it would attract as many thieves as possible. I had also left the truck’s hood open to make it appear that it had mechanical issues, and the cab had no sleeper, making it easier to notice the driver wasn’t around.

  It didn’t take long for the parasites to find it. Right before dark, a car full of thugs came driving down the street. They almost came to a stop as they gazed upon the rollin’ treasure chest. They made a few more passes, then left. As soon as the sun set, three of them came back on foot. They had blue bandanas around their heads and wore white T-shirts tucked into khaki pants. Two of them had tattoos covering their arms, and the other dude had a tattoo on the front of his neck. The trailer’s rear left door was welded shut, but the right door was secured with a padlock. Two of the punks stood watch as the third one broke the lock with a crowbar. When he opened the door, his eyes glimmered. “Yo, Cody, check this shit out.”

  Cody was the punk with the tattoo on his neck. He seemed to be the leader. He pulled the guy out of the way. “Go fuckin’ keep an eye out with Matt.” Cody couldn’t believe his eyes as he stood there, looking in the trailer with amazement. The corridor on the right side of the trailer was dimly lit, but the area on the other side of the Plexiglas wall with the goodies was well lit; it was like a huge display case filled with everything a punk would want, and more. He noticed the Plexiglas divided the trailer in half down the center, separating the boxes from the side he was on. He noticed the second door. The yellow one with the NO TRESPASSING and PRIVATE PROPERTY signs. That door must allow access to the other side, he thought. He looked at the punk that had broken the lock. “Nick. Go see if anyone is in the truck.”

  “K.” He took off around the corner of the trailer. A minute later he came back. “It’s empty.”

  “That’s odd. There’s no way someone would leave this unattended.” He hit the floor with his fist a few times. “Hey, anyone here?”

  Matt walked over. “What’s the deal? We goin’ in, or what?”

  Cody climbed up in the trailer and squatted down. “You two keep an eye out and let me know if someone comes.” He eased down the corridor, then slowly opened the yellow door, revealing another corridor. At the end, he noticed there was a ladder that went up to the deck, and to the left of it was a red door that appeared to go into the side with the merchandise. He ran back to his buddies. “I didn’t see anyone. There’s a door that goes to the other side. I’m going to go check it out. Shut this door and hide under the trailer so no one can see you.”

  “Don’t take too long.” Matt shut the door.

  When Cody went through the yellow door, it closed automatically. He quickly opened it, fearing he could get locked in. Relief overcame him when he noticed there wasn’t a locking mechanism. He eased up the ladder and looked around, making sure no one was there. It was clear. Now all he had on his mind was getting to the other side. Anger overcame him as he examined the red door—it was made of steel and had several heavy-duty locks. He started kicking it out of frustration. Then out of the corner of his eye he noticed there was a small safe in the wall. How in the hell did he miss something like that, he thought. Above the safe was a sign that read, PLEASE DO NOT STEAL. YOU WILL GO TO HELL IF YOU DO. He laughed when he read it. To his surprise, the safe was unlocked. His eyes glimmered when he saw a large shiny medallion hanging in the back of the safe. He didn’t think twice about taking it as he reached in. When he grabbed it, he noticed it was secured to a short piece of cable. He jerked the shit out of it, but it didn’t budge. Suddenly, the sound of a guitar playing startled him. He noticed it was the intro to AC DC’s Highway to Hell when the drums kicked in. The door to the safe slammed shut on its own, causing him to jump. He ran to the yellow door and tried to open it, but now it was locked. When the lyrics started, flames came shooting out from the bottom of the door. He stepped back, then stood in confusion. As the song continued, another row of flames came shooting out of the floor and forced him backwards, then another, and another. He tried to yell for help over the music, but it was too loud. Rows of flames continued to ignite as they were timed with the music. He climbed halfway up the ladder and stood, staring in horror. When the chorus started, a huge fireball erupted in the corridor, forcing him up to the top of the ladder. To his horror, flames began to shoot out the bottom rung on the ladder, then the next rung, then the next. He crawled into the corrid
or on top of the deck to escape the flames, but they followed him as he heard, I’m on the highway to Hell. He took off on his hands and knees down the dark corridor. Suddenly the floor gave out and he fell into the drum. He screamed as he laid on a bed of spikes. He could still hear the music as he laid horrified.

  Nick and Matt could also hear the music from under the trailer. Matt was worried. “I wonder where that’s coming from.”

  Nick was mad. “That fucker is checking out the stereos so he can get the best one.”

  “That’s about fucking right. All we get is the leftover crap.”

  While Nick and Matt discussed who was going to get what, Cody was stuck to the bottom of the drum. He tried to get up, but the spikes were embedded in his flesh. Some of them were sticking out of his legs and one of his arms. He tried to shout for help, but the music drowned out his pleas. Fear overcame him when the drum started slowly turning. When he was upside down he slid off the spikes, falling onto the ones below. After a few rotations, he had puncture holes all over his body. One of the spikes had torn into his right eye, and another had severed his penis. He screamed at the top of his lungs as he was pulled to the top of the drum again, then allowed to fall back, causing more and more puncture holes. His body was being tossed around like a rag doll as the spikes jabbed holes in his flesh. He was screaming at the top of his lungs as he was being tenderized like a piece of meat. The pain was almost unbearable, then to his horror, flames began engulfing the inside of the drum. He burned to death as the song ended.

  Nick noticed some smoke. He crawled out from under the trailer and looked at the exhaust pipes. He was scared as he stared at Matt. “Someone started the truck.”

  Matt looked in the passenger’s window. “There’s no one in there.”

  Nick had a confused look. “Then why is there smoke coming from the stacks?”

  “Fuck, I don’t know. That’s what engines do.”

  “But the engine isn’t running.”

  “Who gives a fuck? There’s no one there.”

  “We need to check on Cody.”

  “Yeah, he’s probably taking all the good shit.”

  The two punks ran to the back of the trailer and climbed inside. They ignored the signs as they went through the yellow door. They forgot about Cody when they saw the safe mounted in the wall. Matt tried to open it. “It’s fucking locked.”

  Nick noticed the sign above the safe. “Hey, check out this creepy shit.”

  “That’s fuckin’ weird.”

  “What do you think it means?”

  “Someone’s way of telling us not to fuck with it.”

  Nick was nervous. “You know, it could be a setup.”

  “You’re right. Go wait outside and keep an eye out. I will try to get this open.”

  “What about the sign?”

  “Fuck it. It’ll take more than a few words to keep me from getting mine.”

  “Where do you think Cody is?”

  Matt tried to open the red door. “He probably went through here after he took what he wanted.”

  “Yeah, the bastard probably took off on us.

  “Go on outside and keep an eye out.”

  “Alright, but get something for me too.”

  When Nick went through the yellow door the safe unlocked. Matt heard the click. He opened the safe, then stood in amazement as he gazed at his treasure. “Fuck Nick and Cody. This shit is mine.” He said to himself. He was already thinking of all the stuff he could buy as he reached for the medallion. When Highway to Hell started playing, Nick came running to the yellow door, but it was locked. He beat on it and yelled, “What the fuck dude, let me in!” All he could hear was the music. “Turn that shit down and let me in!” He became angry and kicked the door. “You sorry mother fucker! I said let me in!” He sat down and rested his back against the wall. He was so angry that he was shaking, thinking how he had been screwed.

  A few minutes later the music turned off, then he heard the door click. His feet couldn’t move fast enough as he hurried through the door and over to the safe. He was relieved when he found it unlocked. His eyes opened big when he saw the gold medallion. “Fuck y’all motherfuckers. This is mine.” The drum was still hot when he fell into a pile of smoking body parts.”

  Seth looked at Wyatt. “One wave of punks came after another until the cops found it fourteen days later. It was an absolutely pathetic sight to see how many lowlifes tried to take advantage of someone breaking down.”

  “No one was broke down. You parked it there.”

  “Duh! But they didn’t know that.”

  Wyatt made a face. “Duh! How many punks got burned up?”

  “Twenty-one.”

  “No shit?”

  “I should have figured out a way to move it before the cops were notified. That way I could have parked it somewhere else and caught more scumbags.”

  “Why didn’t you move it?”

  “Some freakin’ thief stole parts off the engine. I couldn’t risk fixing it myself and get busted.”

  Wyatt laughed. “That’s some funny shit. But why didn’t you have it towed?”

  “A tow driver would have noticed some of the modifications on the exterior and alerted the police anyway. The next time I will booby-trap the engine.”

  “The next time? I thought they were too expensive and took too much time to build?”

  “Yeah, that’s why you’re going to help me with the next one.”

  Wyatt nodded. “That might be fun doing something like that. Of course, I won’t participate when it’s done.”

  “Would you at least watch the cameras?”

  “I don’t know. Seeing something recorded is one thing, but live, that’s another. For now, I would like to help build it. I’ve never done any kind of mechanical project and it would be a great learning experience.” Wyatt looked at Seth. “You said the cops found the rig fourteen days later. What caused them to investigate it in the first place?”

  “Because…”

  Wyatt interrupted. “I want to see if I can guess.”

  “Okay, but it’s probably not what you’re thinking.”

  “Some of the punks had been reported missing, so the cops were out looking for anything suspicious.”

  “Nope. No one gives a shit about scumbags.”

  “Their cars. The cops must have seen all the abandoned cars parked around the area?”

  Seth laughed. “That’s not it either. Most of them had been stolen by other thieves.”

  “You got to be fuckin’ kidding me. How bad is this place?”

  “Bad. That’s why I picked Houston.”

  Wyatt pointed. “The smell. I should have said that first.”

  “Yes and no. But it wasn’t the smell from the incinerator—the exhaust ran through a filtration system, removing most of the odor. It basically smelled like someone was having a barbecue.”

  “Then from what?”

  “From this fat fucker. He got stuck in the trap door. His body started decomposing after a few days.”

  “What fat fucker?”

  “He came in on the tenth day.”

  “If he was stuck, why didn’t one of the other assholes find him?”

  “The system is automated and has sensors that detect movement. It won’t allow access through the yellow door when there’s a fuckhead on the other side, or what I refer to as the thug chute. Also, the safe will not open when there’s more than one in the thug chute. I designed it that way so each asshole had the choice of being a thief without being influenced. If they made the wrong choice, they would then have to face the music on their own.”

  “That’s fuckin’ twisted; facing the music, literally.”

  “I’m glad you caught that.”

  “That’s messed up. So back to the fat dude. How did he die?”

  “Smoke inhalation.”

  “Why didn’t you get him out?”

  “I tried. I remotely activated the drum, rocking it back and forth, but he was t
orn in half instead of being pulled into the incinerator. His ass end was blocking the passage way and there was no way in hell I was going to drag what was left of him out of there. I would have had intestines and guts strung from one end of the trailer to the other.”

  “Why would you have to drag out his remains? Couldn’t you have forced him through the trap door?”

  “You do not understand how big this guy was. His ass almost filled up the corridor. The trapdoor to the incinerator was smaller. The only way to get him in the drum was to cut him up with a chain saw, and that wasn’t going to happen either.”

  “Why would that bother you, considering all the sadistic shit that you do?”

  “He was dead.”

  “And?”

  Seth looked at Wyatt. “When have I ever mentioned that I like to fuck around with dead people?”

  Wyatt thought for a moment. “I guess you’re right. I can’t recall anything.”

  Living Zombie

  Wyatt noticed the sun was starting to rise. “What a nice morning.”

  “Sure is. And we’re about thirty minutes from the reservoir.”

  “I’m curious about something.”

  “About what?”

  “Did any more punks come after the fat dude got stuck?”

  “Of course.”

  “What did they do when they couldn’t get through the door?”

  “Beat on the Plexiglas wall until they finally broke it.”

  “I bet you were pissed when they stole all that merchandise.”

  “Not at all—the boxes were empty. What pissed me off was this fuckhead got mad when he found the boxes empty and went and cut the tires on the truck and broke out the windows.”

  “Why would you care? The cops confiscated it anyway.”

  “That’s not the point. His attitude was. The fucker was already a thief, but then had the audacity to destroy someone’s property when he didn’t get his way. I think I get more irritated at assholes like him than the ones who steal.” Seth thought for a moment. “I take that back. Before the fat dude fucked up my rig, this scumbag brought her young child with her to steal some shit. She was one of those people that thinks the world owes her lazy ass even though she has never worked a day in her life.”