by Mike Duke
“What if she had run off?” he thought. “Hell, what if she hadn’t? What did that say about her mentality? Shouldn’t she want to escape and not be a willing prisoner?” Jack’s heart pounded as he approached the closed but unsecured door and threw it open.
April startled to a seated position from where she had been lying down. Fear covered her face when she saw the mask again, her eyes locking on the stick by his side.
Jack didn’t say a word, just lunged forward and let the first swing go, striking her in her upper left arm as she raised it instinctively to protect herself. She screamed and fell over on the bed, flinching away from the attack and covering her head. He struck again, this time on the left thigh. April pulled her legs up reflexively and went fetal. Jack’s heart raced and frustration bled out through his hands. The stick fell rapid fire, one after another against her thigh and then her glutes and the backs of her legs as April rolled on her stomach when she couldn’t take the blows in the same area anymore. Her cries continued well after the stick stopped swinging and finally turned to wracking sobs, burying her face in the covers.
“Get up!” Jack yelled. “Get the fuck up! I told you, I TOLD YOU there would be suffering and you’re going to push through it and do what has to be done!”
April didn’t even look at him. A fury erupted inside Jack.
“GET UP!!!” he shrieked as he struck her ass hard for emphasis. A muffled wail escaped into the blankets bunched at her face. She was frozen in place. Jack grabbed her hair and dragged her to her feet in one jerking motion.
“Come here, dammit!” he shouted as he shoved her forward in front of him, April’s feet moving instinctively to keep her from falling as Jack drove her, head first, toward the hanging pig carcass outside.
He released her when she was face to face with Mr. Piggy.
“Alright April, you’re going to get this shit right this time! You hear me?”
April was hugging herself, posture hunched, small, bent inward and weak, bright red welts lining her legs. She turned slightly, looking over her shoulder at Jack, her face a portrait of complete dismay, a bewildered distress that cringed at the unknown terror before her, this beast who wasn’t the Jack she had known for years.
“Pick up the knife, April.” He spat it out bluntly, pointing to the ground in front of her.
She followed his finger and looked at the blade then looked back at him.
“Pick it up,” he reiterated.
She bent slowly and retrieved it.
“Now grip it with the blade pointing down, like an icepick.” He demonstrated with his Bowie knife and she imitated him.
“Now stab the pig carcass…hard.”
She looked at him, her eyes unconsciously begging him not to make her do it.
“It’s dead April, for the love of god, it won’t feel a thing. Now stab it! It’s just a dead piece of fucking meat! No different than cutting into a pork chop. Now, for fuck’s sake, stab it!”
Still she stood frozen. Jack put the knife back in its sheath and hefted the stick again.
“Or else…”
April didn’t want the stick again. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes and brought the blade down. She felt her hand thud against the pig’s body. She opened her eyes and saw the blade was nowhere to be seen, completely hidden inside. She hadn’t felt any real resistance.
“Again!” she heard from behind. She pulled the blade out slowly, raised it over her head and stabbed again, this time watching to see the metal disappear. It amazed her how easily the blade penetrated the flesh.
“Again,” Jack said. “And don’t stop at once this time. Stab it as fast and hard as I beat you with this stick till I tell you to stop…or else.”
April obeyed, stabbing the carcass repeatedly.
“Stop holding your breath. Breathe!”
April, having forgotten to inhale, sucked air in, and continued stabbing over and over.
“Alright. Stop. That’s good, April. Wait right there.”
Jack walked past the camp fire, over to the pig pen and went inside. He corralled it and let the Bowie fall on the rear back bone, paralyzing it like the one he killed the day before. Its screams filled the night air but he ignored it and dragged it by its useless back legs out of the pen and over to April, throwing it down in front of her, its screeching wails assaulting her intestinal fortitude.
“Kill it…or else”
April looked sick. The thought of either choice nauseated her, but only one ended in more pain.
“Stab it just like you did the dead one. Over and over in the chest till it stops screaming and squirming. Do it.”
April knelt on its lower body like she had seen Jack do before, breathed deep, raised the blade and held it there, trembling. After a few seconds she breathed out hard, an unconscious act of inadequacy for the task.
“Scream April. Think of it like a roller coaster ride. Just let it go.”
She breathed in again and held it.
“Dammit April! DO IT, and scream bloody murder! OR ELSE!!!” Jack struck the fence post with the stick for emphasis.
That jarred her into action, the blade falling as she let out a shrill howl that turned into guttural yelps as she stabbed the carcass again and again, breathing in and blowing out in time to the piercing attacks. The pig cried out at each thrust till its noisome protests became a light burbling sound full of froth and foam filling its mouth and throat, it’s body ceasing to struggle and merely twitch as death took it.
Jack smiled. Maybe there might be hope for April after all.
*****
Over the following three weeks, Jack put April through the paces each day, drilling techniques into her over and over till her movements were smooth and crisp and she could respond instantly to unknown attacks, whether it be empty hand, knife or gun. Every time they ran out of meat Jack would make her slaughter another pig, dress it and cook it. She seemed to be getting over her aversion to killing and was learning to be more efficient and put them out of their misery more quickly.
It was time for something more significant, Jack thought. Something to test her mental fortitude and will to power.
*****
Jack locked April up during early afternoon then drove into town and cruised around once it was dark looking for a crack addict who looked hard up for a fix. As he creeped down a backstreet and approached an intersection he saw a skinny black male wearing tattered jeans, muddy shoes and a wife beater shirt standing on the corner. Jack eased to a stop and rolled his window down, waving the guy over.
“I suck your dick for a rock, man,” the guy blurted out before Jack could say anything, hooking his hands over the car door and leaning in. Up close, his lips were cracked and white spittle was dried in the corners of his mouth. His face was gaunt, eyes desperate, and his index fingers and thumbs had significant scarring, repetitive burns from holding a crack pipe. Jack leaned away slightly, the guy completely disregarding any concept of personal space.
“I don’t want you to suck my dick, man.”
The guy looked as if he was getting ready to beg but was cut short by Jack.
“But I do need something taken care of. I’ll buy you two rocks and you can have one now and one after you do what I need. Deal?”
“Fuck yeah man. I’ll do whatever you want for two rocks!”
“Alright. I need you to beat a girl’s ass. My girlfriend. Needs to be someone she doesn’t know. You good with that?”
The guy stared at Jack, wide eyed, unblinking.
“I’ll fuck her up, man. I’ll fuck her up. You just say how much and I’ll do it.”
“Alright. You ain’t got no weapons on you do ya?” Jack asked.
“Naw man. I ain’t like that.”
“I’m just gonna pat your pockets to be safe before you get in. Deal?”
“Yeah, man. Sho nuff. Jus hurry up. I want dat rock, yo.”
He put his hands on the car roof as Jack got out and walked around. Jack did a quick p
at down. The guy didn’t have anything but a crack pipe, lighter and a tube of lip balm in his pockets.
“Ok,” Jack said. “Hop in. Let’s go buy those rocks and get to work. What’s your name anyway, man?”
“Latrelle,” he answered, climbing inside.
“You can call me JJ, Latrelle.”
They shot down a couple of blocks, found a dealer and bought the rocks before heading back to the barn.
*****
Latrelle smoked his first rock in a fury and leaned back in the seat, ignoring Jack and focusing on nothing but the high. Jack knew it wouldn’t last long and he would be craving the other rock. It would motivate him to attack April for real just in case he had any second thoughts.
Once at the barn they exited the vehicle.
“Wait here Latrelle while I get my girlfriend. When she comes outside I want you to walk up to her like you’re going to introduce yourself and then let her have it. You got it?”
“Fuck yeah, man. I’ll beat her ass good. Jus, jus tell me when to stop.” Latrelle rubbed his mouth and nose anxiously, his head twitching sideways slightly.
He’s perfect, Jack thought, of single minded purpose and intent. Getting the crack rock was all that mattered. April would simply be a resource providing the desired end. Nothing was valuable but the rock. All else, both objects and individuals, were expendable.
Jack disappeared into the barn and opened up April’s room. She stirred and sat up, rubbing her eyes and trying to wake up.
“What time is it?” she reflexively asked.
“It’s around 8 pm and dark. You hungry?”
“Yeah. I am,” she said and let out a big yawn.
“Alright, come on outside,” Jack instructed her and then turned on his heel and walked out.
April put her shoes on and ran a brush through her hair. As she exited the barn door she didn’t see Jack, but instead saw a complete stranger standing there. The sight of him instantly stopped her forward progression. His eyes were weasel like. Predatory and disconnected. April could feel she was not a person to him.
Her brain was processing all this as he began to move forward, talking to divert her attention from him closing the distance.
“Hi missus, my name is Trey. Your boyfriend JJ brought me here to help out with some repairs. Pleased ta meet ya.”
April froze in place even though her mind was screaming at her that something was wrong. The man extended his hand half-way, waiting to see if she would do the same and get closer. Social programming took over, right arm reaching of its own accord, reducing the distance further. Once in range the man turned slightly to his left and let the backhand fly, smacking her right cheek solid and snapping her head on a swivel.
The world momentarily lost its center. She stumbled and fell to the ground, winding up in a seated position. Latrelle was on her in an instant reaching down to grab her shirt, right palm up in the air, open and ready to fall. April grabbed his hand to anchor it to her body and kicked out straight into his knee, hyperextending it.
Latrelle lost his balance and fell on his side but was otherwise unphased as he scrambled on all four over to April. She tried to get to her feet but he shoved her down and pounced, his right fist rocketing toward her face. She brought her left elbow up tight to her head and soaked the blow, his body falling into place between her legs as his arm retracted and proceeded to viciously rain down heavy punches back and forth between her face and ribcage, a relentless barrage threatening to overwhelm her. April continued to cover multiple blows to her head but ate the body shots, getting the wind knocked out of her until she felt an opening and immediately raked Latrelle’s eyes with her thumb. He closed his eyes and shook his head side to side to prevent her from digging her thumb in.
She had to impact his throat and breathing. She shot her cover hand out and clinched the back of his neck, pulling his head down to her chest with all her body weight and strength as she turned her other hand palm up and “C” clamped all four fingers and thumb around his larynx, hugging his head to her chest. She tried to make her thumb and fingers touch. The man started gagging and pulling away, she held on and his movements became frantic, trying to stand up but she wrapped her legs around his upper back, hooking her ankles. He couldn’t get up off his knees, but he finally managed to lift her up off the ground. Wrapping her face with both hands he slammed her into the dirt, both her back and head bouncing off the hard ground beneath them. It rocked April and her legs released, but his hands were holding his throat, his face wide open. She retracted her right leg as far as she could and let her heel shoot out and up, striking him right on the chin and taking him off his feet.
Latrelle fell over onto his back, trying to breathe but unable, his eyes confused but mind still focused on the crack rock. He gagged and wheezed, trying to get air into his lungs but only finding mild success. He struggled to his hands and knees, just in time to get kneed in the face by April. The drugs were giving him unusual resistance to feeling any injury. His face soaked the knee and he stood quickly, grabbing April’s hair and snatching her head around. April grabbed his hand with both of hers, connecting her body as a whole to his arm so he couldn’t pull her off balance. He tried punching her some more but her forearms were covering much of her head.
She started punting him in the groin repetitively, actually lifting his body up off the ground with each one but if it hurt he didn’t show it. April changed tactics and began stomping the outside of his left knee over and over till it started folding inward. One final, powerful stomp and her foot went to the ground along with the inside of his knee.
Latrelle let go, falling on his side to hold his leg, head arched back. April took a step, loading her rear leg, and followed through with a shin kick to her attacker’s jaw. A satisfying crack resounded across the clearing.
“Keep kicking him April!” Jack yelled. “Right in the solar plexus.”
April listened and obeyed and let multiple soccer kicks rip into Latrelle’s midsection, taking all the wind out of his lungs and breaking some ribs. She lost herself in the glory of a violent indulgence for several seconds then suddenly stopped, realizing the man wasn’t moving and gathering just how bad she had hurt him.
“Oh my god…” she muttered.
“Who is he Jack?” she asked, bent over and breathing deep in between words to catch her breath. “What the hell was he doing here and why did he attack me?”
Jack looked right at April and answered her, blunt as could be.
“He’s just a crack addict. I brought him here April…and I paid him to attack you.”
April looked up, surprised for a moment and then realizing she shouldn’t be.
“You fucking bastard,” she grumbled and sat down a good distance from Latrelle. “You need to take him to the hospital. He’s hurt bad.”
“April. Nobody gives a fuck about a crack addict like this guy. He’d beat his own mother if you gave him a rock. Hell he tried to beat your ass for a rock!”
Jack extended his arm palm out towards April, indicating exhibit A in his argument.
“You have any idea how many people a guy like this has fucked over or hurt to get what he wants?”
April shook her head.
“He doesn’t deserve any mercy from you. He was trying to beat your ass for one rock. One rock! That’s just a measly $20! People like him are a blight on society. Only worth being used and discarded, just like they would do to you.”
Jack grabbed Latrelle by his pants cuff and dragged him over to the pig pen, then hefted him like a ragdoll, heaving him in with the pigs.
“Jack!” April yelled. “What the fuck are you doing? They’ll kill him!”
“I know,” Jack laughed as he said it. “That’s the idea. And eat him too. Like hoover vacuum cleaners. They’ll consume every bit of evidence.”
April stared at Jack, incredulous, speechless, unable to fathom the lack of humanity in someone she had grown up with and cared for so much. Jack stared back, undaunte
d and unashamed by her response.
“Don’t you dare feel sorry for him, April. Don’t you dare.”
His eyes burned with a conviction she could not grasp or bear, forcing April to bow her head, not wanting to even look at him any longer.
The blood drew the pigs right away and they went straight to eating. It took a little while for Latrelle to die. He tried screaming but his larynx was swollen enough he couldn’t make any loud noises.
April was thankful for that.
*****
Jack led April back to her room and provided dinner before locking the door. He walked back out to the grill, basted the leftover pig with some more barbeque sauce then cracked a cold beer he retrieved from the cooler.
The first one he chugged, then grabbed a second one for sipping as he stabbed pieces of pork with a fork, devouring them one by one.
“It’s time,” he thought. “Time to bring this to a head and force the final exam.”
He finished wolfing down the meat, gathered his go bag and hopped in his vehicle to head into town.
*****
It was 10 pm when Jack arrived at the Crazy Horse. He cruised through the parking lot looking for Brad’s Grand Marquis. Jack spotted it and parked nearby with a view of both the vehicle and the front door. He walked over to Brad’s car, laying his hand on the hood. It was still warm, which meant he hadn’t been in there long. Probably was going to be a long time before Brad left the bar. Jack returned to his own vehicle and climbed inside, settling in for the wait.
Time passed slowly as he scanned back and forth across the lot, watching people as they went in and out, most of them oblivious to their surroundings. The wannabe Alpha Males strutted like peacocks with a pretty woman on their arm to impress, looking for a weaker male to bully and thereby prove their superior social status. He watched some of his fellow students at the MMA gym walk in, relaxed, non-confrontational, confident in their own Alpha status and possessing no need to prove otherwise to anyone.