Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“I don’t know, Sicko, should you?”
“You’re both terrifying, but I would like to play too.” We stop at the entrance of the barn, where Val stands with a lit cigarette between his teeth.
“Told you that you’re not doing this without me.”
I push through the entrance just in time to see Psyko and Kirby tying the last man up by his hands onto the pillar. They’re all stripped and naked, gags in their mouths.
I reach into my jean pocket for my cigar, rolling it around my teeth. “Take out their gags. I want to hear them scream.”
Psyko rips out the gags in their mouths, and I start walking around Skully. “Val, you can take one of them. I’ll have the other.”
Royce pulls a chair out, taking a seat behind us to watch the scene play out. Truthfully, I’ve waited for this moment since I was old enough to know how rotten Skully was.
“Wicked, Wicked, Wicked… Oh, what a mess you are.” Skully clucks his fingers and I continue to roll the cigar between mine.
“Psyk, got any nails? Big fuckers?”
“Yeah, I think we’ve got some in the barn for the horses. I’ll be back.” I kick the dust around my feet, the ashes of burnt Irishmen beneath the soles of my shoes.
“Roy, put some music on. Don’t want the girls to hear.” Royce walks out to the parked car, the headlights flashing through the dark barn and lighting up the bodies of all three of them hanging from their wrists above their heads. He drives the car farther in, leaving the door open and pressing play on a metal song. Making my way to the other one hanging, I drag the tip of my knife down his chest, stopping right above where his cock meets his pelvis bone.
“No. No. Please—no!” I dig the sharp tip into the base and slide it across slowly, inhaling his blood-curdling screams. As soon as I reach the curve of his helmet, I bring the handle of the knife to my mouth and bite down, rubbing my thumbs beneath the flap of skin before tearing it all the way back. “Skinless.” I laugh from around the knife before grabbing it out of my mouth and diving it into the base of his sternum. In one movement, I slice him down the apex of his chest, all the way to his pelvis and watch as his screams turn silent and his blue eyes widen on me. The clean incision on his chest quickly spreads open and blood splutters out, his organs spilling out and landing on my boots.
“Well…” I lean down and push through the tube of his intestines and liver. “You want any of these, Skully? Gotta admit, they look fucking good.” I stand back to my feet. “Roy?” I call over my shoulder. “Got a flashlight?”
Royce snickers, jogging up behind me while turning on the flashlight of his phone. He keeps it on the now empty corpse and I move his skin out of the way until I see his ribcage. Fisting both sides, I tear them apart and reach in until my hand wraps around the organ that beats against the palm of my hand. Tearing it from his chest, I toss it up in the air and catch it. Making my way to the front of Skully.
“You’re fucking crazy, Wicked.”
I smirk up at him. “I know, Skully. Especially when you mess with her.”
“What are you going to do, huh? You can’t hurt me.”
“That a challenge?” I toss the heart onto the dirt ridden ground just as Psyko jogs back into the shed.
“Found them!” He holds up four large, thick nails. “And this.” And a heavy hammer.
I falter backward, taking them from him while keeping my eyes on Skully. “Remove the ties around his wrist but hold him in place.”
Psyko and Royce jump up on a couple of chairs, doing as they’re told. I block out everything else happening behind me when I line the nail up against his wrist, right over his most prominent vein. I draw the hammer back before slamming it down onto the heavy metal. His scream is instant and excitement grows inside my body. I hit again. And again. Blood squirts out and onto my face when I finally feel the hardness of the wood behind his hands.
Jumping off the chair, I force his feet together, pressing them against the wooden pillar and start my work.
Bang. Bang. More blood. Every hit, I feel everything that he has done to me over the years slowly seep out of my body.
I stand straight, dropping the hammer to the ground and tearing off my shirt, adrenaline cursing through my veins so wildly every demonic entity that resides inside of me comes roaring to the surface to play.
“Roy,” someone whispers.
“Leave him. This is Hangman.”
I stumble backward and watch as his blood drips down and hits the dirt. His screams turn into wails, and I know I’ve hit a main artery somewhere because he’s fading too fast.