Page 32 of Shades of Red

I demanded ten thousand euros be hand delivered at nine to a location that would be disclosed fifteen minutes before. If he doesn’t arrive by five minutes after nine or if he brings anyone else, the photos will be blasted everywhere. The ten thousand is enough that Blaise will take me seriously, but not nearly enough that he’ll need to consider his decision. A few thousand is pennies to pricks like him. And like a fucking idiot, he agreed to my terms.

It’s five minutes till, and my body trembles with adrenaline as I wait for him to walk through the door. The last time I did this, it was unplanned and messy. I didn’t consider how much effort it would take to subdue someone who was bigger and stronger than me. This time, I plan to be meticulous.

I twist the metal mallet in my hand, loving how something so small can feel so powerful. I could have procured something injectable to knock him out. Ketamine, fentanyl, morphine—you can find most anything on the streets of Paris if you know where to look for it. But drugs mess with the mind and the quality of the meat. And I want him to be lucid enough to understand exactly what is happening to him. The meat mallet will be enough to render Aurélie’s husband unconscious so I can drag him to the meat locker in the back and hang him up with the rest of the pigs.

At two minutes till, I hear rustling at the front of the shop. The fucker is early. I’ve left the door unlocked and all the lights on so thatthe atmosphere is inviting. No one wants to walk into a dark butcher shop at night. Who knows what dangerous things could be lurking in the shadows.

“Gavin Greyson,” an angry voice calls, followed by the slamming of a door. “Where are you,salaud?”

The cunt knows my full name. It seems he’s been doing his research too, not that it will save him now. “Back here,” I answer. “I thought our business would be best conducted in the office.” I’m not in the office. I’m in the storage closet across from it waiting to knock Blaise the fuck out.

“You callchantagebusiness,connard?” he shouts as he gets closer. “I’m surprised Aurélie stooped so low this time. She’s had her indiscretions before, of course. But never with a common rat who likes to hide out onthisside of Paris and blackmail his betters for money.”

The prick kicks in a door—I’m guessing the one to the butchery room. “You should be exterminated like the rest of the vermin scurrying through the city living off our scraps, spreading your filth and disease.” Another door slams. He’s got two more before he reaches the office. Either I’ll hit him in the back of the head when he walks through the open office door, or I’ll hit him in the balls when he opens the door to my hiding spot.

“It’ll take a great deal of time to cleanse Aurélie of your infectious touch. I’ll have to bleed her long and slow until her blood runs pure again. Only then will she be fit for the punishment I have in store for her.” There’s another burst of a door hitting the wall. One more left. “Her fickle cunt has been causing me problems for far too long. I think it’s time I made some permanent modifications to keep her whoring in check.”

I clench my fists so hard that my nails cut through my palms. I was going to make this fast. In and out so I can be rid of his miserable existence as quickly as possible. But now, the evil fuck is going tosuffer one fucking slice at a time until he’s paid for his sins with a pound of flesh.

“I hope her cunt was worth dying for,connard.” A door slams before I hear footsteps right in front of where I’m hidden. They stop for a moment before I hear him take the bait and walk into the open office.

Deciding on speed rather than stealth, I spring from the storage closet and close the four steps between us before the fucker even has a chance to turn around. I hit him in the side of the head with the mallet, and his large body drops to the floor within seconds with a satisfyingthud. When I lean down to drag his body down the hall, I see the metallic glint of a firearm tucked into his belt. The bastard brought a gun to a knife fight.

“I guarantee you won’t think her cunt was worth dying for by the time I’m finished with you,connard.”

Even if he is unconscious,it’s not an easy task stringing up a well-built man of over six feet. After I stripped him naked, I tied his hands behind his back and secured his ankles together with rope. I didn’t bother gagging or blindfolding him. I want him to watch as I bleed him slowly, just like he planned to do to Aurélie. And hearing his screams will make it even sweeter.

It takes me a few tries to finally get Blaise hanging upside down from the metal butcher hook, his hair just barely touching the ground as his body sways from side to side while he knocks into the dead pig carcasses beside him. He can get a little preview of what he’ll look like in another hour or so when I relieve him of his skin.

It’s not freezing in the meat locker, but it’s cold enough to be uncomfortable in my thin, white button up shirt while I stand around and wait for Aurélie’s husband to come to. I twist the stainless steel inmy hands, loving the way the sharp blade catches the light. I’ve picked a lighter, less threatening looking knife rather than one of the heavier cleavers. This one won’t cut through bone, but it will separate skin from muscle like cutting through butter.

On the ground beside my feet, I’ve got a mechanical dial scale used for weighing meat. Which is exactly how I’m going to use it.

Blaise groans as he starts to gain consciousness. He’s got a large lump on the side of his head that’s seeping blood. The red streams down his temples, just narrowly missing his eyes. My cock hardens a little at the sight, and I’m reminded that it’s not just the pain of the willing that gets me off. Sometimes it’s the suffering of those who deserve it too.

“Wakey, wakey, fucker,” I greet in a singsong voice, kicking my leather boot into the middle of his bare stomach. The blow sends him swaying in the air, the pain and the disruption of his balance causing him to spew and cough as he chokes on his own vomit. I grab him by the leg to steady him. “Easy there, Blaisey boy. We can’t have you asphyxiating and taking the easy way out.”

I bend down low so I can stare into his gray eyes; they’re starting to bulge in his puke covered face from being hung upside down. “We still need to get to know each other better.”

“Va te faire foutre,” he gasps out before spitting a mixture of saliva and bile in my direction.

“Still kicking, I see.” A devilish smile pulls at my lips as I let him gaze upon his own destruction. “Good, I always like to see someone fight before they break.” I slide the thin carving knife over his cheek, sighing with pleasure when his skin splits open and starts to gush red. “Now, are you ready to scream?”

His French profanities turn guttural and unintelligible as I slip the knife under his skin at his jaw and gently scrape and pull up until I’ve removed the top layer of skin from cheek to nose. Blood drips into hiseyes while I cut off the skin completely and throw the warm slab of meat onto the scale. The mechanical dial moves down as it measures the weight of the chunk I’ve cut off Blaise’s pretty face. Well, not so pretty anymore.

“You’re looking flushed,” I taunt, careful not to get blood on my shoes when I reach down and grab his raw face. “Does being bled long and slow not agree with you?” An animal-like whimper is all he can manage in response. He looks half-monster, half-man at the moment. When I’m done with him, he’ll look exactly like the disgusting, rotting creature he is on the inside.

I slide my knife to the other side of his face, prepared to skin him down to the next layer of muscle before his eyes start to flutter shut. “Now, now, don’t wimp out on me so quickly, tough guy.” I slap the flat of the knife against his face until his eyes are wide and alert. “There you are. No passing out, do you understand? I want you tofeelthis. If I see your eyes close again, you’ll be waking up without one.”

To his credit, Blaise barely bats an eye as I peel off the other side of his face and toss it onto the metal pan at the top of the scale. The arrow dips down further, but he’s nowhere near paid his debt. I look down at him thoughtfully, deciding where to harvest from next. His face is a pulsing, fleshy mass of red with a thin strip of skin left in the middle along his forehead, nose, and lips. The small remainder of skin laying against his bare muscle makes him look even more grotesque.

“What’s next, Blaisey boy? Should we see if you have a heart in that chest of yours?”

His weak moans are the only sign that he disagrees with my plan as I get on my knees and hold him steady with his peeled face wedged tightly between my thighs. I’m sure the rough material of my jeans chafes at his exposed nerve endings, but he’s just going to have to live with it for a moment. I point my knife at the left side of his chest and press the tip in slowly until his skin breaks. Then I drag the bladestraight down the edge of his sternum before jerking the knife left and sliding it underneath his skin at the curve of his breast bone.

If I’m being critical, this isn’t my best work. It’s not as smooth as skinning off his face, and I can feel I’ve accidentally slipped beneath the skin and into the tissue and muscle. There’s more blood; it coats my fingers and makes my hands slippery around the handle of the knife as I try to saw back and forth over the skin of his chest. When I finally rip the flesh from his chest, he screams before going deathly still.

“Goddamnit,” I swear, chucking the hunk of meat onto the scale. “I told you not to pass the fuck out.”

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