Page 25 of The Devils Melody
“You ready to start talking, Frankie?” I ask, setting the canister down with a heavy clang. I squat in front of him, tapping the side with my knuckles. “Or do we get creative?”
Frankie jerks against his restraints, panic bleeding into every movement. “W-what is that?” Frankie’s voice cracks as he shifts, straining against the chains he’s trapped in.
Kage smirks, watching him squirm, savoring every second of this. “I’m so glad you asked!”
Without another word, Kage slides on his gloves and takes the lid off the canister, the strong acrid stench ofsulfuric acid filling the air. Frankie recoils, realization finally hitting him as he starts to gag, but it’s already too late. He should have thought about that before keeping his fat mouth shut.
Kage looks down at him, a wicked smile creeping onto his face. “Since you love touching shit that doesn’t belong to you, I think we should take care of that little habit for you.”
Kage unlocks one of the cufflinks freeing Frankie’s hand, but before he could even process that his hand is free, Kage plunges it into the canister. The splash of acid against his skin is deafening, followed by a sickening hiss as the acid immediately begins to eat through the layers of flesh.
Frankie’s blood curdling scream fills the room in raw, pure agony. The sounds echo in the large space, making it sound as if he’s being torn apart from the inside out. His body tenses, muscles straining against the chains, but he can’t pull away; his shackles are too tight.
“It burns, doesn’t it?” Kage yells over the screams. His voice is dark with amusement. He’s enjoying the fuck out of this.
Frankie’s screams continue to cut through the room as Kage begins to move his hand around in the canister, making the acid spread. Sizzling noises fills the air, the smell of awful fucking barbeque permeating the room. The burns are instantaneous, deep, and clearly fucking painful. His skin starts to bubble and melt in waves, the stench becoming overwhelming.
Frankie’s whole body jerks, his voice distorted as he screams for mercy. “P-please! Fuck! Please! I c-can’t!” He screams, his body jerking against the chains, muscles locking up as Kage swishes his mangled hand around in the acid as if he’s stirring a cocktail.
I glance down at my watch, bored as hell. “I don’t know, man. I feel like he hasn’t suffered enough yet.”
Kage grins, his face contorted into someone else entirely. “I was thinking the same thing.”
With a sharp yank, he rips Frankie’s hand from the acid and drops it onto his lap like a discarded rag. What’s left of it, anyway. The skin is gone, melted down to raw tendon and useless bone. It barely even looks human anymore. Frankie shudders violently as he chokes on his own sobs. Apparently the acid isn’t enough to get this piece of shit talking. Let's see how far we can push him before he finally breaks.
Heading back to the appliance room, I grab a rolling cart and pull it towards me, the wheels squealing as they scrape against the floor. I load it up with an arrangement of tools. A drill with some interesting attachments, a serrated knife, hammers, whatever I can find that’ll get the job done.
I push the cart back out into the center of the room as Frankie lets out another shuddering breath. Kage crouches beside him, studying the raw, mangled remnants of his hand as if it were a piece of art.
“You’re not looking so good, Frankie.” he tilts his head, staring right into Frankie’s eyes. “I think we should even things out a bit, don’t ya think, Nox?”
When my brother turns towards me, he has that look in his eyes, cold and void of emotion. A chill settles deep in my bones.
The devil has come out to play.
9
Kage
THE EXECUTIONER
Frankie’s whole body trembles, his breathing harsh and uneven. Every muscle is locked tight, waiting for what comes next. I love this part. The anticipation, the silent suffering, the way their mind breaks before their bodies do. It makes my dick grow hard in my pants and I fucking love it. I need my little bird to help me relieve this ache. Maybe I’ll pay her a visit after I finish playing with Frankie.
I reach for the pliers. There’s something poetic about this moment. The weight of the tool in my grip and the way the cold steel feels against my palm. Frankie already knows what’s about to happen as he fights against the chains that bind his legs and one good arm to the chair, what’s left of his other hand clutched protectively to his chest.
I grab onto the hand that isn’t damaged yet, and reach for his pointer finger. “You won’t be needing any of these where you’re going, Frankie.” I say, as I pull his finger with my left hand and use my pliers to detach the finger from his hand with my right. The sounds his bones make as they shatter between my pliers is music to my ears. Blood spurtsout like a water hose that's out of control, coating the concrete floor in dark shades of red.
I smile at the sight of the blood, feeling my cock grow harder as I watch it squirt out of his hand. It’s a fucking delicious image, one that I’ll be replaying in my head for a while.
Frankie is screaming even louder now, his pleas echoing off the walls, begging for me to leave the other fingers intact. I can’t help the cackle that rips through me. Some may think I’m unhinged, and maybe they’re right, but nothing is sweeter than the sounds of a pedophile choking on the pain they once served, getting a taste of their own filth.
The strong stench of ammonia permeates the room, filling my nostrils, and I scrunch my nose at the scent. I look down beneath where Frankie sits and notice a dark spot blooming in the center of his pants. The fucking coward, it seems as though he can dish out the pain but can’t take it.
What a fucking pussy.
“Did you just fucking piss yourself?” I scoff in disgust, as I watch the puddle beneath him continue to grow.
I knew this would happen eventually. They always release their filthy fucking fluids right before the end. I’m just surprised he hasn’t shit himself yet.
