Page 7 of Sinner: Before Rain
If I need to end them quickly or if we need to prolong the agony.
The slow burn was becoming a favorite of mine.
It goes hand-in-hand with torture. Watching the phases of realization wash over their faces. Then the begging and pleading comes next. Which always makes me laugh. People show their true selves before they die. It’s always the most pathetic version of themselves. What people would say or do to stay alive.
I had the idea just before my seventh birthday, when I added the wheel to my table which controls the restraints. With each turn, it pulls on their limbs. The pain becomes unbearable as the limbs begin to disconnect. Popping noises from it fill the space alongside the screams.
Then, I leave them like this for hours or days even depending on how annoying I find them.Only to come back later to finish the job. The limbs detach, but the body is still very much alive as they bleed out, which only results in their death.
Sometimes I play along, giving them a glimmer of hope, just to watch their faces drop once I take it away. Severing the femoral artery would cause blood to gush out rapidly. Hands and legs are restrained as they watch their own ending.
Shivers begin as they get cold from all the blood leaving them. Then the heart stops, with nothing more to pump through it.
We had just begun the hunting and kidnapping months before I left. But I was getting good at it. And I was eager to continue honing my skills. It’s part of what I crave.
This is all a piece of me now.
Never did I think the withdrawal would be this intense. Thinking about it in such detail is only torturing myself.
My body language doesn’t change while looking at him, unamused. Another skill I am very fucking good at. Even with all these vivid images floating through my mind.
The curious mind I have, I continue to observe him instead.
Come on old man, keep talking.
“I can give you what you need, but in return, you must help me. And The Chapel.”
Here we go.
“Go on.” Intrigued by his proposition.
“I am a vessel for the Devil, The Dark One, if you will. He communicates through me who is a threat and we remove them. We do not see age, race, or gender. We see good and evil. We eliminate the evil that threatens us and our work, our purpose within The Chapel. Do you understand?”
Interesting.
“The person we have now assisting in such efforts is sloppy. Because of that, curious minds have been snooping, civilians, the police. They are causing us headaches. They are becoming additional threats we do not desire. Perhaps you could work with our current member, who is failing us deeply?”
Rolling my eyes because I work alone.
“No.”
Maxton’s face distorts in confusion.
“What do you mean, no?”
His nostrils flare. He is easily agitated. Interesting indeed.
“What is your role exactly? A vessel, I heard you say that, but what the fuck does that even mean?”
“Our members confide in me. The Dark One, at the beginning, would give us blackmail to absolve our members' problems. Then as time progressed, as he began to trust us, names started to appear before me. Names of those no longer privileged to live on thisearth. I am their Master. They are my people. And together we are The Chapel.”
He is charismatic, I see why he is the leader.
“How did you meet my mom?”
His answer will give me everything I need to know.
“Online. I pursued her. She was apprehensive, naturally. But I convinced her the life she was leading wasn’t one of happiness and joy. That I could give her everything she needs.”
