Page 20 of Run

“You have a five-minute head start. Run.” I say, pulling out my pack of cigarettes from my jacket pocket.

He stumbles when I let go of him, watching me pull out a smoke and pop it between my lips. As I cup my hands around the end of it to block the wind and light it, he takes a single shaky step back.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“And you’ve got to be stupid to still be standing there.” I laugh, sucking on the cigarette, loving the burn of the first drag.

The dogs yap and bark, making him look between them and I, and with a pained grunt, he turns and takes off out into the yard, towards the entrance to my garden labyrinth.

“Easy my children.” I say to the dogs, holding up my hand to keep them in place at my feet. “Easy. You’ll get to play.”

I watch as he runs with an exaggerated limp, the drag behind the bike having given him a massive disadvantage. It’s humorous as he stumbles in the grass, and catches himself, looking back at me and taking off again. I wave to him with a sadistic little smirk, and take another drag off my cancer stick, blowing the smoke around me like a ghostly white cloud.

When he reaches the arched opening to my favorite place on the property, I look down at my watch and give a chuckle. It’s almost nine o’clock. By ten I can guarantee he’ll be entering the pit. In how many pieces all depends on how hungry my babies are.

“Ready?” I ask the dogs, making them howl in excitement, their little feet kicking up dirt and stones from the driveway as they pace, waiting for the command to hunt.

“O????????!” I shout in my native tongue, then repeat it in English, “Hunt!” They take off into the night, their barks and cries filling the air, echoing off the Appalachian Mountains in the distance, as I grind my smoke out on the ground and follow them at a leisurely pace.

The north side of the property is all gardens and pathways. It’s a maze of hedges, trees, ornamental flowers, and topiaries that serves both as my relaxation spot, and where I hide my bodies. I know every which way through it, and so dothe dogs that patrol it day in and day out. For those unlucky enough to enter it still alive, they can get lost in it for hours. Things seem to change as you go through it with the way the wind blows branches and bushes, and how the stone walls of the center courtyard blend into the darkness.

In the day, it looks like heaven, especially in late spring and summer when the trees and plants are in bloom. But when night falls, and the breezes whisper through tree limbs, and the ghosts of its inhabitants arise, it’s more like hell. My heaven and hell. My paradise.

The last of the dogs disappears beyond the tall hedges, her barks following behind her as she tears through the front of the maze. I stroll through the grass, lighting up another cigarette, humming to myself as I cross the lawn and arrive at the large opening. It’s flanked by large stone pillars, encircled in gold snakes with their mouths open and fangs bared. They’re a warning to anyone who dares to enter my space that danger lurks inside amongst the beauty.

“You can run, but you can’t hide. They will find you!” I shout out into the night, listening to my voice echo back to me from inside the maze.

With a big grin on my face, I head into the first path, going left, then right, then left again. The edges of the bushes scrape against my leather jacket, sounding like the hiss of the snakes at the beginning, ominously announcing my presence in the labyrinth.

I’m the last of his worries though. The dogs will reach him before I do. I might even be his saving grace. If he isn’t already dead when I find him, he’ll wish he was. The tearing of flesh under the bite of a Doberman is a vicious thing, and a pack of them? Yeah, they’ll have you ripped to pieces in the mostpainful of ways. If I come along and he’s still breathing, to die at my hand would be a mercy killing. No one’s ever made it that long though. My pack is efficient at what they do.

The howling of the dogs grows louder as I near the center courtyard. Their incessant sounds telling me that they’re close to their prey. It’s beautiful the way they respond to my commands, each one such a good member of my little clan I’ve built with them. They’re the only family I’ve had since I laid my father into the pit and brushed my hands clean of the pain that he brought to my young life.

Screams fill the night air, carried on an uptick of the spring wind. Pained screams and curses that would chill a normal person to the bone, but all they do is fuel the thirst in me for more violence. He touched what’s mine, against her will, and he shall pay in the most violent of ways.

It’s a beautiful sight when I emerge from the hedged path into the center of my garden maze. The blood is already coating the walls of the stairs that lead down to the marble tiled square. The snakes on the walls flanking them hiss in the dark with their concrete scales and gold tongues, watching the feast as my pack goes to work.

The noise of the growls and the snapping of jaws almost overpowers the sounds of his pained bellows as the dogs rip into him. He’s on the ground, his body flailing and twisting, trying to fight them off, yet they come at him from all sides, pulling viciously at his limbs, tearing through his clothes just as easily as they rip through his flesh. Scraps of material float away in the wind, like little pieces of confetti as the pack continues to tear him to pieces.

“Help! Help me!” He screams, his legs kicking, his arms swinging as best as they can with jaws locked on them.

The show they put on is entertaining as I sit on the bottom step, feeling the cold marble through my leather pants, and It’s not long before the shrieks coming from him turn to wet gurgles and wheezed gasps when my prize bitch goes in for the kill.

“Good girl, Magnolia.” I praise her, clapping my gloved hands as she latches her teeth onto his neck, biting down, then shaking.

It’s like the rest of them know that it’s her place to take the throat. None of them touch the neck, until she’s had her fill. They respect her as much as they respect me, and for that, she gets to sleep with me and enjoy all the comforts of the big house. For me, it’s her company that keep me sane on the nights where the demons cackle too loudly in my head. Her soft fur, and her gentle kisses to my face are a stark contradiction to how she feasts, making her just like me.

“Yeah baby, good girl.”

I could step in and end his fight, a swift kick to the head would end his suffering, but Magnolia is having too much fun. Her head whips side to side, and suddenly, the battle is done. His neck snaps with a loud crack, and he falls instantly still.

“Woohoo! Yeah! That’s my girl.” I clap again and holler out to her, seeing her look up at me with that satisfied gleam in her dark brown eyes.

They make quick work of tearing off what each of them wants. The skin pulls away, bones crunch under their bites, and in minutes, they’re trotting off towards the gazebo with their prizes in their bloody mouths. All that’s left of him when they’re done is a mangled lump of organs falling from a destroyed torso that’s too big for them to carry with them.

“Well, time to clean up.” I sigh, lighting another smoke, and hoisting myself off the step, cracking my back as I stand.

Chapter Thirteen

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