by Leanne Wood
Bridget smiled. Then began to chuckle. She picked at her nails; a nervous habit she was trying to break. Relief washed over her as she rose from the toilet seat. Standing tall, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror confident the right decision had been made. There was no other option. Doubt had to be ignored. Fear had to be cast away. She inhaled the peacefulness in her decision. It was as if there was something inside her, another person completely. Moving forward was her only option. Once hunted, she would become the hunter. She would slaughter her enemy.
It was as Daniel had said, if they didn’t kill Pierre she would be D.E.A.D. Dead.
An unexpected knocking hit the bathroom door. Bridget jumped. There would be no more delays.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
D
aniel was greeted by Bridget as she reefed the bathroom door open. He gave a half smile.
“I am okay,” she blurted, before he had a chance to speak. “I just needed some space.”
He took a step back and studied her. She appeared more settled than when she had left to go to the bedroom. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re being pressured.”
Bridget nodded. “I’m positive. I just needed to think. I wanted to be sure of our next move.”
Daniel took her hands in his. “You don’t have to worry about a thing. I have it all worked out. I can do this alone if you want. You can leave, go home. I’ll come to you when it is all over.”
Bridget frowned. “I don’t want to leave. I’ve accepted Pierre should die, even thought of ways in which we can kill him. Why should I go home now? The fun is yet to begin.” She paused, laughed, messed with her hair, and raised her eyebrows. “Finally, I’ll see the bastard suffer. There’s no way I’m going to miss this show, not after missing the punishment you dealt to Samuel and Arthur. I am not going anywhere,” she snapped, “I have some plans of my own.”
Daniel huffed, rolled his eyes and shook his head. He had invested significant time and effort into his annihilation project. He did not want to give up what he thought was the ultimate revenge. “Oh, you have plans,” he sighed, as he released her hands. “But my plan is ready to go.”
Bridget stared at him, her eyebrows bunching up. “Okay then. We’ll do it your way,” she conceded. “I’m happy to be the spectator. But I am warning you, if I think your plan is dissatisfying, I have the right to tell you to stop and we’ll change to one of mine.”
Daniel smiled and nodded. He was relieved his project would go ahead, ecstatic Bridget would get to see his masterful design, and confident she would be pleased. He would prove his ultimate love for her. Bridget returned his smile. Daniel could see the excitement in her eyes, he was sure he would not fail.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
I
n the room, Daniel instructed Bridget to stand at the top of the box, above Pierre’s head. He wanted to make sure she didn’t miss a thing. He could tell she was excited. Her eyes were beaming. Her smile lit up her face. She had a spring in her step.
Pierre lay quivering in the box. He knew they were up to something. He expected they were going to kill him. He had heard them in the hallway. He had been unable to make out what they had said. He knew his situation was grim. The prospects of surviving were extremely slim. He prayed they would spare him of additional pain.
He looked up and saw a glimpse of Bridget. “Please… I beg of you. Please don’t do this,” Pierre sobbed softly, as tears escaped his eyes.
His face was filled with terror. Bridget glared at him with daggers and ignored his words. She focused on Daniel who remained cool, calm and collected.
“If you wrong me or the one I love, shall I not seek revenge? Let the games begin,” Daniel declared. His voice echoed around the room.
“No! Please No!” Pierre bellowed.
Bridget grinned, licked her lips, and clapped her hands. She began to giggle with anticipation, “Let the games begin,” she squealed.
“Let the games begin.” A smiling Daniel repeated with a nod and wink.
Clenching her hands, she watched Daniel lock the door. “No interruptions.” he said, raising his eyebrows. “No interruptions.” Bridget repeated with a nod. He walked to the corner of the room and opened the wooden cupboard. Glancing over his shoulder he caught Bridget’s stare and could tell she was curious of his plan. Bridget held her breath. Daniel removed a glass box; it resembled a small fish tank. It had four fixed glassed walls with wooden edging and one removable side. Bridget’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion. She watched his every move. He carefully carried the glass box over and gently placed the open side down onto Pierre’s stomach. The removable side sat facing upwards.
“A job for you my love,” he smiled towards Bridget. “If you could just hold it in place.”
Bridget jumped to his side. She placed her hands where he pointed. Her excitement was building. Daniel reached into the right side of the wooden box. Pierre struggled to see what he was doing. He flinched as Daniel’s hand touched his side. Daniel retrieved two thin red straps that had been hiding in the darkness near the right side of Pierre’s torso. He flipped them over the edge of the wooden box. Then he moved to the left of the box and completed the strap retrieval process. Bridget remained silent. Daniel retrieved two ratchet spindles from the cupboard and threaded the top right strap through two links on either side of the glass box closest to Pierre’s head. He threaded the bottom right strap through links on either side of the glass box closest to Pierre’s feet. The box sat perfectly across his torso. Then Daniel moved to the left side of the wooden box. He pulled the straps through both ratchet systems. He left a small slack in the straps. He grabbed the ratchets then pumped the handle. A loud repetitive clicking and clacking sound rang out. The straps became tighter. The glass box was firmly secured against Pierre’s torso. Daniel closed the ratchet handle to lock it in place.
“Thank you, my precious, you have been a wonderful assistant,” he smiled, as he grabbed and kissed the back of Bridget’s hand. “You may resume your viewing post at the top of my torture chamber.”
Bridget dashed back to the top of the wooden box.
“Please, it's not too late… please, I am begging you,” Pierre begged. Daniel and Bridget ignored his words. Daniel focused on his plan; Bridget appeared enthralled by his actions. The anticipation on her face sent tingles through his body as he returned to the wardrobe. This time he retrieved what looked like a small reading lamp, with a flexible arm and red globe. He clamped the lamp onto the wooden chamber then bent the arm on the lamp so it stuck over the glass box. He plugged the lamp cord into the power point. Bridget watched with her mouth open wide. Daniel gave no clues about his intention. “I promised I will make Pierre pay for the pain he had caused.” he said. Bridget nodded and held his gaze, her eyes brimming with tears. Again, he went to the cupboard. This time he picked up a cardboard box. Small holes were pierced in its sides.
***
Bridget’s chest began to pound. She became tingly with anticipation. Something was inside the box. She could hear a scratching, grinding and hissing sound. She wanted to know what Daniel had planned. He was meticulous. She had always admired his attention to detail. He looked towards her, smiled then winked. She returned his smile as she watched him gently place the cardboard box on the floor then carefully remove the top off the glass case. All the while Pierre continued to scream. He continued to plead for forgiveness and beg for his release. His words meant nothing.
Daniel retrieved the cardboard box from the floor and carefully opened the end. He tipped it over. Bridget jumped. Four large brown rats fell out and into the glass box. Daniel quickly replaced the lid. The rats scurried around searching for freedom. Daniel fumbled in his pocket and retrieved a roll of tape, which he used to tape the glass lid. The rodents were trapped. There was no way for them to escape. He turned on the power point. He adjusted the direction of the light. The red globe emitted an intense heat. Bri
dget could feel the burning incandescence. The rodents’ natural instinct was to flee. Their glass prison was impenetrable. To escape they would have to burrow. Their claws would have to penetrate Pierre’s torso.
The action commenced. The rats began to freak out. They began to scratch. They began to dig. Pierre screamed. His eyes bulged. He thrashed against his restraints. He began puffing and panting, squeezing his eyes closed.
“Let me go, fucken let me go! You bitch from hell! You fucken cunt,” he spat, as his face reddened.
Bridget did not flinch at his words. Her focus was on the rats. At last they had cut through his skin. Their razor claws sliced. Her eyes darted. Her heart raced. Sickening though it was, it was also exhilarating, and she was compelled to watch. She didn’t want the rats to stop. She willed them to keep going. She silently cheered as their claws ripped into his flesh – their digging and gnawing frenzied. Determined to escape the heat, the rats burrowed deeper. Their squealing and shrieking clashed with Pierre’s agonising screams. She didn’t care about his screams; he deserved everything he got. Daniel had excelled. She glanced up; he was fixated on the carnage within the box, his cheeks flushed, and his pupils dilated by clear pleasure.
The rats dug deeper. Bridget’s eyes darted back down to the powerful show. There was no turning back. A large rushing and roaring filled her ears. She swallowed hard and inhaled deeply. Bellowing cries filled her ears. Her eyes were glued to the barbarous show. Her body stiffened. Her jaw clenched. She grabbed the side of the box. An enormous rush burst through her body. Her hands tightened on the box.
Pierre’s body began to convulse with the pain. The ferocious biting and scratching was relentless. The rats tore and ripped. They burrowed deeper. They began urinating and defecating. They gnawed into his guts. They buried into his warm flesh, trying to escape the scorching heat. Bridget stared into his pleading eyes. She wanted him to see her face. At last he was suffering. Soon Pierre Rainer would be D.E.A.D dead. The bastard would hurt no one else. He would speak no more evil. Blood gurgled in his throat and spewed from his mouth, splattering against the walls of the glass box. The brown rats were now covered in thick redness.
Pierre’s eyes began to flicker. His thrashing slowed. The rats were winning. Bridget had seen enough. She could watch no more. Pierre released a heaving howl. Blood sprayed from his mouth. Bridget turned her back and calmly walked away. Daniel took her hand and walked by her side. He closed the door behind them.
Pierre would die a miserable death. He would die alone and in the dark. Outside they could hear his moans as he became weaker. He knew it was over. Struggling was futile. The end was near. His heaving breaths danced into the darkness. Blood seeped out from the torture chamber coffin. His agonising groans fell silent. Pierre Rainer was at last D.E.A.D. Dead.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
B
lood. There was so much blood. Liquid crimson soaked through the base of the wooden box. It pooled on the black plastic. Around the edges it congealed. Some parts appeared thick and sticky, on others, a skin had formed. The scene was horrifying. Bridget peered into the box as Daniel removed the glass case. Euphoria surged through her rigid body. There was no doubt Pierre Rainer was well and truly dead. Sucking in a large breath, she smiled. Freedom at last.
Gone were all those bottled up fears that had churned from deep inside. Clenching her jaw, she began nodding. Her decision to kill was far more than just pleasing. Murdering Pierre was the ultimate release. Through violence, she was able to relieve her pain. Prolonging his suffering had given her a sense of power. She had been in control; it was Pierre who had been weak. It had been her decision whether, and how, he would live or die. Bridget had dreamed of the day she would be free and now she was. She had fantasised about getting revenge and about meeting the love of her life. Daniel had proven his ultimate love; he offered a special kind of spark. Gazing across the box towards Daniel, she felt complete bliss. Warmth. Butterflies in her stomach. Goosebumps covered her body, as she became tingly and wet. Rubbing her thighs together provided a pleasurable sensation. Chewing on her bottom lip her thoughts drifted to her next target. There was no need to stop now. Improvements were possible. With Daniel by her side, they would be unstoppable. She would right all the wrongs. Together they would snuff out all evil.
Looking down into the box she licked her lips and smiled. Seeing Pierre dead was the ultimate turn on. His abdomen had been ripped apart. The stench was gut churning. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the delectably wicked smell of success.
A strange noise snapped her back into the now. Her eyes sprung open. Fear replaced elation with the realisation that the rats had escaped. Bridget nervously scanned the room. Where the hell were the rats? She hated the things. They terrified her. They could be anywhere. The sound of scratching and scurrying feet amplified in her mind. Focus. Focus on the job.
Pierre’s body needed to be removed and wrapped. A gnawing sound came from behind. Bridget squealed as she spun around. She slipped, in the blood, pin-wheeled her arms as her feet flew out from under her. She tumbled forward, reaching for the side of the box to stop her fall. She missed.
Her hand fell deep into the wet, tacky, mush. A sickening stench blossomed around her – blood and guts mixed with rat urine and faeces. Her hand pushed into Pierre’s ruined gut. Slippery innards wrapped around her wrist. She screamed. Daniel raced to her side and pulled her to her feet. He began removing the chunks of flesh then told her to go shower. He would finish packaging Pierre.
Bridget sobbed as Daniel led her to the bathroom. Her body shook uncontrollably, and her blood-covered hands trembled. She couldn’t stop crying. In the bathroom she stripped, then placed her bloodied clothes in a bag Daniel had given her. In the shower she let the water flow over her body. Her shaking eased. As she looked down her naked body, her panic returned. Blood covered the floor of the shower. She gagged. The smell of blood and innards was sickening. She snatched the soap, and lathered her body in the lavender suds. She scrubbed her body with the nailbrush, the movement becoming frenzied. Red streaks covered her skin, and she feared she wouldn’t be able to rid herself of Pierre Rainer. Would someone be able to smell him on her?
Daniel knocked at the door. “Bridget… are you okay?”
She turned off the water and grabbed her towel. She wiped her face then checked her hands. They were clean. Thank goodness they were clean. She smiled and released a sigh. “Yes I’m okay. I’ll be out in a minute,” she said as she stepped out of the shower.
“I don’t mean to hassle you but we need to get a wriggle on. We need to get rid of these bodies.”
“Okay.”
Daniel waited at the bathroom door while she threw on fresh clothes and flung the door open.
“Sorry about that, I’m feeling much better now. So what’s our next move? How are we going to get rid of their bodies?”
Daniel looked at her, his head tilted to one side as if he was deep in thought. He tapped his pointy finger against his chin and raised his eyebrows, “What do you think we should do?”
“I don’t know.” She paused then grinned. “Oh, yes I do.”
Daniel nodded and smiled.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
T
he clock was ticking. They had no time to stop and rest. One by one they collected the bodies, battling to maintain a grip on the slick black plastic. They dragged and they pushed, pulled and kicked. Moving three dead weights was harder than anticipated. They slid them down the stairs, Daniel and Bridget gasping for breath as they watched the bodies thump their way down. But they couldn’t rest. The new water tank was scheduled for delivery the following day.
They dropped the bodies deep into the hole. At last, they were laid to rest. Phase one was complete with no major incident. The packages had remained intact. Daniel gave Bridget a high five. Bridget wiped her brow and looked towards the bush. She thought she heard a noise, but she could see nothing. Her instincts told her otherwise
. A cold shiver ran down her spine. Turning around she was alone. Daniel had vanished. Her heart began to pound. She took a few steps closer to the bush and raised her hands over her eyes. She held her breath. She focused hard. Nothing. Was her mind playing tricks? She dashed into the house.
Upstairs she remained silent, keeping her niggling worries to herself. Daniel’s place was secluded. To think they were being watched was ridiculous. It’s only my mind playing tricks. Daniel will be pissed if I start losing the plot now. She took a deep breath and focused on him. He was always a welcoming distraction. His muscles flexed, as he moved forward to phase two of the operation. He dismantled the wooden box, then asked her to fetch them both drinks. When she returned, he was dumping the now dead rats into the glass box. Blood soaked timber and the bludgeoned rats were doused in fuel and thrown into the old rusty drum outside. The bag of Bridget’s bloodied clothes was tossed on top. Daniel flicked a match, and the two of them watched as flames leapt high into the air. Within seconds the evidence was disintegrating before their eyes. Moments later, the air was filled with a charred barbecue smell. Bridget nervously sipped on her drink. Her eyes continued to scan the bush.