Page 50 of Charity's Torment

I scanned the backyard before I lifted the window the rest of the way and climbed inside. The tip of my boots hit the old creaking wood, and my eyes locked with Jose’s. His eyes widened.

I rushed him before he could get up from the ground and slammed his head against the floor, stunning him into submission. If this was a cartoon, I know he’d be seeing stars and birds spinning in front of his face. Cutting the TV cord, I bound his wrists together behind him and stuffed a used cloth in his mouth. I quickly glanced around the room for anyone I might have missed, then locked the door—I didn’t want any surprise guests.

Jose lay on his belly, looking like a hog with his hands tied and his mouth stuffed. I tugged on my mask, revealing my face. His brows knit together, then he shook his head. He recognized me now, even with all the fake tattoos covering my face and neck. “You must be wondering why I’m here? Am I right?”

He nodded.

“Well, at first, it was because I needed to find my missing brother, Josh. You said you remembered him.” I held a picture in front of his face of my brother. It was side by side. One side had Josh, the addict, with his tall frame, thin and frail. Jose should recognize this man. The second picture was a more recent healthy image and more like himself, although not to his full potential.

He nodded adamantly.

“Good. Has he been around?” I pulled the cloth from his mouth.

“No. I haven’t seen him in years. I fucking told you that, you motherfucking—.”

My head pulsed as I shoved the cloth back into his mouth, silencing his gritty words. Agitation coursed through my veins and fueled a beast in me that thirsted for violence. Why did answers have to be so scarce sometimes? I grabbed a filthy pillow from the couch, and the torch they used to light their bowls of dope. Placing the pillow over the side of his face, I muffled his shrieks as I charred the tips of his fingers.

His body thrashed around as much as he could with me sitting on top of him until I turned off the heat and let him sizzle. The stink of burning flesh infused the air, stinging my nostrils with a stench that would hang around for days. There was nothing more painful than a burn. It sent all the nerves firing—no pun intended—to the brain all at once. Overworking it and making it all unbearable.

I pulled the pillow from his face and the cloth from his mouth, allowing him to speak. “Want to try that again, Devil Worshiper?” He cried out, and I shoved my gloved hand over his mouth. “Keep your voice down if you wish to keep your tongue. Understand?”

He whimpered as he nodded. I remove my hand. “I haven’t seen him for a long time. I swear. I swear. Honest to God.Please, stop.”

“Shh. You don’t believe in God, so why would I believe your cries?” My gaze flicked across his scared features, detecting any trace of truth or lie.

“I-I… fuck. I haven’t seen him.”

I shoved my hand over his mouth again and burned the upside-down cross off his face. His body bucked against mine, trying to throw me off, but I held fast, leaving boiling ink across his cheek.

Maybe Josh didn’t go to his old stomping grounds. What if I waited for so long, relying on this one lead only to come up empty-handed? Where the hell was he? Maybe he isn’t doing drugs. What if something horrifying happened to him?

What if Nico was right, and he owed people money, and those people have him? So many equations tore their claws through my mind. I couldn’t settle on one. I was stuck, but it didn’t matter now. I ran out of time, and I needed to leave.

“On to other things. You fucked up Devil Worshiper. You ran drugs in Moreno territory.” I didn’t allow him to respond. My hand clamped down harder onto his mouth, muting his protests. It didn’t seem right to end the interrogation so soon, but they gave me express instructions to do him here. I didn’t want to press my luck, so it needed to end.

I dropped the torch and pulled out my Karambit. His eyes widened with fear as the realization struck him. He was going to die. I pressed the curved blade to his throat and pressed hard, then sliced across the tendon and artery. His skin gave way, parting like the Red Sea, and a river of blood flowed freely from his sliced arteries.

He gurgled as I removed my palm from his mouth, no longer needing to worry about him making a sound. I sliced down his shirt, tearing at the material and baring his grotesquely tattooed chest. I carved into his tattoo of the devil’s head between a woman’s thighs. Her head was tipped back in ecstasy, allowing her hair to cascade over the throne she was draped over.

The crude crown with three spires streamed blood for the short time his heart was still beating. Morgan, a loudmouth for such a young girl, yelled at someone downstairs. I wiped his blood on the pillow and lit the torch, tossing it onto the couch. I watched the flames lick across the dirty material, entranced with its beauty. I ripped my gaze away and slid my mask into place.

I hopped out the window, careful not to tumble down the roof, slid down the trellis, and peeked in the window to see why Morgan was shouting. The girl held a woman by her hair, high on God knows what, with a knife to her throat.

The woman’s glazed-over eyes and calm expression proved she wasn’t aware of what was about to happen to her or really anything in this version of her reality. My fingers itched to grab my pistol and put an end to the fucking brat. Morgan tossed the woman to the floor, her throat still intact, and I watched as she ran for the stairs. It was time for me to leave.

A tall hooded figure stood in the shadows with his hands hanging by his sides—observing. I only assumed it to be a man, judging by the size of the silhouette. I stalked towards him. Josh?

His height and figure matched Josh as well as one could in the dark. But why would he be here? Did he know I was looking for him?

The man pivoted on his heel and hopped the fence. I ran after him, fumbling over the top, nearly tumbling onto my face. He can’t escape. If it wasn’t Josh, then that meant I had a witness, and I couldn’t let that happen either. The police were already looking for a girl with my description. There was no way I would give them another.

This was a familiar setting. Didn’t I just do this a few days ago? Only this time, I was the predator. The shadow man put distance between us with his long legs and quick pace. He turned around a partially collapsed shed and threw a ladder into my path. I leaped over with ease and continued the chase. I turned the corner, following him into the dimly lit street, when a car barreled towards me with tires screeching. My body went airborne, landing on the hood of the vehicle. The minute impact caused my breath to rush from my lungs. I watched the witness run away as I rolled off the car. It was Max’s. I held my sore elbow and limped, getting into his car.

“What the fuck was that?” Max asked as I shut the door, and he sped away.

“A witness,” I said, sucking oxygen into my deprived lungs—they burned like fire. “Or my brother.”

“Shit,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road.

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