Page 81 of Alexander's Heart

I nod in acquiescence, “You did, but this isn’t going to be pretty and no female should see this shit, but I apologize for excluding you, Betty.”

“If you boys had of kept your word,” Betty is fuming and pauses to right her damn cupcake apron, “I would have told you I have the perfect fucking end to this prick, one very fitting for a scumbag like him.”

Now this I want to hear and I’m very intrigued, “What’s your idea, Betty?”

Trickle gives a semi attempt at a scream, probably not wanting to know what is coming for him. Betty’s face twists like she’s heard nails down a fucking chalkboard and marches straight over to Trickle and without a word, Betty produces a gleaming blade from beneath her apron, the metal catching the light with a menacing glint. With slow, deliberate movements, she traces the edge of the blade along the skin of Trickles chest, sending shivers of fear coursing through his body as he screams and tries to move away. Betty’s face goes blank and then she yanks at his manhood hard and slices his dick clean off, the spray of blood hitting Betty square on, then a river of crimson flows freely as Trickle wriggles like bait on a fucking hook, Fuck Me, no preamble, no words, just quick, precise and cold.

“Jackson, open this pricks mouth I’m going to muffle this cunts screams, he doesn’t deserve the air he’s breathing.”

I watch Jackson’s eyes flicker in surprise before he steps forward, yanking Trickles head up by his greasy hair then takes hold of his jaw firmly in his grasp and pulls it down swiftly and firmly, the bones snapping with the force as we hear the last scream Trickle will ever be able to make. Betty steps forward and shoves his dick to the back of his throat muting his world forever. We’re all standing here in stunned silence at the sheer brutality we just witnessed. It’s one thing to dish it out but to witness such blatant and deliberate maiming is something completely fucking different.

Betty turns back to me her cupcake apron covered in Trickles blood with a deadly calm expression she hands me the knife dripping in blood and looks up into my eyes.

“Now like I was saying before this fucking cunt rudely interrupted me, I have a heated pressure pack outside that door filled with sodium hydroxide it’s heat set to three hundred degrees, a lye solution will turn hisbodyinto tan liquid. You spray this fucker and watch him melt away to nothing, that’s how I’d do it, absolute, deserved agony and clean up all in one.”

Holy fucking shit! Betty wasn’t just CIA; this woman was a fucking assassin! There is no doubt in my mind, and I’m fucking grateful Betty is on our side and loves her cupcake.

Davies steps over and kisses Betty square on the cheek, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, This is not the fucking place, nor time, but we all have knowing smirks on our faces.

“Not now, ol’ man, I want to hear what the Chief here thinks of my plan,” Betty quips and coldly smiles up at me.

I shake my head with a minacious smile, “I like your style, Betty. You all in agreement team?”

“HOOYAH!” This time a true battle cry, because we’re all gearing up to end this fucker for good.

Betty smiles triumphantly while removing her blood soaked apron and throwing it at Trickle like he’s trash, I love her fucking plan but I also wasn’t going to continue with my plan after witnessing her cold detached move, I value my life and want to get home to my girls.

“Do you want hot fudge brownies or rocky road?” Betty asks innocently.

“Hot fudge.”

“Great! My job here is done, I don’t do clean up, have fun boys!” As quickly as Betty entered, she leaves and each one of us is staring at the door in fucking awe of our dear ol’ Betty.

“I told you brothers, if Betty was thirty years younger, I’d have claimed that woman for myself,” Jackson barks out.

Davies head snaps to Jackson and he growls, “I don’t fucking think so, Jackson!”

“Hooyah!”

I think we could all see that coming a mile away, but it’s damn good to have a front row seat to witness our Commander being taken down by a purple haired sassy lady. When the laughter dies down, we turn to our subject and watch as Trickle’s life blood flows freely from his filthy body, the room fills with a heavy silence, punctuated only by the sound of his strangled breaths. The team stands guard around him, watching with chilling satisfaction as his body starts succumbing to the inevitable. It’s a moment of grim finality, the culmination of a long and harrowing journey filled with the pain and anguish my girl, her sister and child endured.

In the quiet intensity of the room, each member of the team shares in the satisfaction of seeing justice served, albeit in its most brutal form. There’s a sense of closure, a release of pent-up frustration and anger at the cruelty Trickle has inflicted upon those we hold dear. While his passing may not erase the scars he’s left behind, it brings a measure of comfort knowing that he can no longer harm another living soul.

Davies steps out of the room to retrieve Betty’s gift, and as he walks back in his face shows serious satisfaction and he nods to me when he hands over the protective gear along with the pressure pack filled with Trickle’s demise.

“Here Chief,” Davies says handing me heavy rubber protective coat, gloves and safety glasses and I quickly shuck them on, the rest of the team found theirs outside the door and have done the same.

“Ready team?”

“Hooyah!”

I step up to Trickle and yank his head up to look him in the eyes but he’s no longer responsive, “I hope you feel every fucking agonizing burn as I send you to hell where you belong you worthless piece of shit!” Using the words he spewed at my angel gives me a modicum of satisfaction.

I turn and nod to the boys and they nod in unison standing behind me, I turn back to face this filthy fucking bastard and aim it directly at Trickle’s face and turn the heated pressure pack on. His body jerks in response to the scalding acid eating at his flesh and I look behind me at my boys, all of them showing an array of menacing smirks firmly planted on their faces. I return my gaze back and watch Trickle’s skin slowly turn to liquid sludge and find it to be a gratifying end.

As Trickle’s final breath escapes past his filthy dick filled mouth, the room falls into a somber stillness. It’s a moment of sober reflection, a reminder of the fragility of life and the weight of the choices we make. Amidst the satisfaction of seeing justice served, there’s also a sense of melancholy, a recognition of the human cost that accompanies such acts of retribution. None of us are thrill killers but we do enjoy

I’m standing under the steady stream of water, feeling the weight of Tickle’s essence begin to wash away, cleansing both my body and mind. The physical act of cleansing serves as a symbolic gesture, a purging of the darkness that clung to me in that piece of shit’s presence.

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