Page 51 of Remorseless Sinner

Saul raised a hand and pulled me beside him on the platform.

“This is wrong,” Pastor Mickelson screamed. “Stop! Eyes, I command you!”

But the arms swirled around his body, and then I saw them strike, the first metallic Eye knocking into his skull with a loud clang, the other long tubes begin to wind around him, faster and faster, squeezing and squeezing.

And deep in my vengeful soul, my heart gave a little leap.

All those years of submission to the Eyes, to inspection, to trying to prove my worthiness and purity. And it was all done so some dirty old men could grip their wrinkly cocks.

The Eye had always said it was good to show mercy to your Elders, to respect and to cherish them.

But my cunt clenched as I remembered that night senior year.

And I remembered there had been one chance.

Once chance to stop him.

I could have said,don’t do it.

Don’t kill my bullies.

Let them go.

But I didn’t.

He had looked back at me, that dark, brutal, wrong boy, to see what I wanted. To see what I thought.

To see if I approved.

And I had given it to him.

I even remembered my face splitting in a horrible wide grin as those tight, clammy fingers gripping me suddenly loosened and the other senior fell with a gurgling thunk, the years of bullying and torment melting away as his blood leached into the ground.

And I hadapprovedof it.

CHAPTER 14

Saul

Ihoped my wife appreciated her gifts.

As I watched Dr. Meier spin around like a rat in a trap, all I could see was Gracie. That image of how she looked when I first met her at 18 is always in my memory.

The years I was in jail.

The fucking grind to figure out an angle on some of the criminal enterprises I learned in jail, which other ex-felons to trust, what territory to claim, to make sure none of it would affect Gracie at all.

At first, all my earnings went to making Honeywood, giving Gracie a safe place to live. And then to pumping the gentle vitamins and supplements from the ceiling that would make her body ripen and her tits swell with milk.

I looked at my wife.

The morning light slanted down from the high stained-glass window, surrounding her with a soft, ethereal light.

She looked like an angel up there, the fabric of the dress clinging to her little round bump.

My innocent, angelic, unspeakably dirty and wet wife.

If they hadn’t done her wrong, I would have sat next to her and had my junk measured by the Eye for the rest of my natural born days.

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