Page 29 of Cain
“Well …” I click my tongue. “I can help with that.”
Anger boils inside me. Swiftly, I grab the saw from his hand, seize his wrist, and pin it to the table, shoving all of my “toys” to the ground.
He screams, but that doesn’t deter me. I saw at him violently, chopping off his filthy limb in just five strokes.
Blood splashes all over me. Over my face, shirt, chest, and hair. And I’m not even done yet. I’m still not satisfied. I want him to be desperate, to curse the minute he was born. I need to see the plea for me to kill him in his eyes, because he’ll see death as redemption.
I get up, my breathing ragged.
“Please,” he cries. “I just want to go home.”
“I’m afraid that’s not an option, sugar.”
“What? But you said …”
“I said I’d let you free if you chopped off your hands on your own. And that, my friend, didn’t happen.”
“You, manipulative, sick bastard!” he screams, turning all red. I chuckle, taking the machete in my hand that had fallen on the ground. “What are you going to do with this?”
“The Devil taught me a couple of tricks to make things more … amusing. Amusing for me.” I spiral the machete in the air, playing with it.
“The Devil?”
“You know him … the so-called cruelest killer on the continent. Honestly, I think he’s a fucking amateur. But let’s try his pathetic method—just for fun.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Small letters. It’s useless to you, anyway.” I smile sinisterly, raising the knife into the air. “Let’s see if his toys work well.”
I march toward him and press the blade to his throat, feeling his flesh twitch beneath the steel. I begin pushing, slicing, and savoring each quiver and desperate gasp.
“How does it feel, Elijah?” I sneer, pushing the blade deeper, forcing a choked scream from his lips. “Knowing my face is the last thing your pathetic eyes will ever see? Knowing you’re going to die like a miserable, spineless fuck?”
Blood splashes onto me once again. My wrath is untamed, savage, uncontrollable. This knife doesn’t give me the satisfaction that I need. It’s not enough to release the fury inside me.
I kick him on the ground and grab the axe.
And I chop …
Violently.
Frantically.
Maniacally.
I chop and chop until his fucking head detaches from his body, completely coating me in his blood.
As I try to catch my breath, I can’t help but smirk to myself. I finally feel better. Like justice has been served.Justice for her name. For her dignity.
“Wrap this shit up.” I kick his head to Landon’s feet. I have a special place for these little trophies. To me, it’s the ultimate disgrace: not being whole when entering the afterlife. For their families, not having a complete body to bury and mourn means no one will ever see their worthless faces again.
A special place in my garden.
Right next to my big brother.
As I’m waiting for Landon to wrap his filthy head up, I light up a smoke and inhale a long drag. “Ready, boss.”
I exhale the smoke and grab the plastic bag with his head in. “Take care of the rest.” He nods.
