Page 25 of Crawl
“Now here’s the deal, Kent,” I say. I lock the front door, stowing the key in my pocket. “The front and back door need a key, a copy of which is hidden somewhere in this rental. Tempered glass on the windows and the panes are nailed shut. But if you can find a way out,” I pause, glancing at my watch, “in the next two minutes, I’ll let you live.”
The man widens his eyes. “Please,” he begs. “I’ll do anything.”
I set the timer on my watch. “And—”
“What do you want, man?”
“Starting now!”
His mouth gapes, but he runs through the house, stumbling through each room, nearly crying when he sees the foam insulation machine, mask, and tools I have set up in the guest bedroom. Each of his footsteps is loud and erratic, shuddering through the walls, but the perks of my profession are knowing exactly how each house is tailored. Because of recent renovations, this house won’t let a sound escape.
He stumbles around. Couch cushions fly. Drawers spring from dressers. The key is hidden in the freezer, one of the most obvious places, and yet his tiny brain can’t think. One minute down. The hysteria sets in. Tears streak his cheeks. He pants like a bulldog, sniffling around for anything. Finally, his eyes widen, realizing thatIam his way out. He has to kill me. And until the timer is up, I won’t fight back.
He steels himself, rolling his shoulders, then he propels himself forward, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins makes his moves unbalanced, like a teenager learning how to fight. But not me. I jump out of the way. My pulse is steady, my dick filling with blood as he loses control. Panic. Pure fight-or-flight adrenaline coursing through his veins. Volatility. He runs full speed at me again, his bulky feet plodding forward, but I step to the side, letting him crumble into the bedroom wall, a painting of the ocean waves falling to the floor.
My watch beeps and the man gulps. I lock the bedroom door behind us and pull him into my grip. I silence the alarm. Acrid body odor swims inside my nose, and I take it in. I fucking love it. I push his neck into the crux of my arm, nearly cutting off his windpipe. A tear runs down his cheek.
“P-p-please,” the man whimpers, “I don’t want to die.”
I let him drop to the floor, and he immediately stumbles, doing his best to reach for the door, but the lock stumps him.
“I don’t want to die,” he cries again, his cheeks shining with tears. I stroke a finger along his skin, wetting my finger, then lick the salt off of my tip. Instead of the man’s colorless eyes blinking up at me, I see Remedy’s green eyes burning, her mouth open and slobbering for my cock, black tears staining her cheeks. How long will it take for her to beg me like this? How long will she last, given how depraved she is? My cock presses the seam of my pants and I step closer to the man. He cowers on his hands and knees. Is Remedy alone now? Naked in her bedroom? Touching herself so she feels safe? She wants it all—nipple clamps, knives, baseball bats—anything to help her take control of the pain, that deviance, her entire world. I pat my pocket, the chain jingling inside the fabric. I want it around her throat. Right fucking now.
My phone rings; I ignore it. Then I groan.Fuck it.I know what I want. I pull the chain out—the thick links end in o-rings. A choke chain for a large dog. Or, better yet, a human.
I slip the chain through an o-ring to form a loop, and the man cowers, tripping over his own feet as he crawls to the door. This chain is supposed to be for Remedy. It’s supposed to be for tomorrow night.
But I can’t wait.
“Put this around your neck,” I order.
“Then will you let me go?” the man asks. I rub his head like a dog. People are pathetic. Once they know their lives are on the line, they’ll doanything,as long as they can be free.
It will take Remedy a long time to reach the bottom of that desperate pit, and I intend to enjoy every second of it.
“Of course,” I lie.
Compliant, he puts the choke chain around his neck. “You’re into pet play?” he asks. “I can do that. I can bark. I can do tricks. I can suck your dick. I can—”
I grab the long end of the chain, then kick his chest until I lean my full weight on his rib cage, crushing him down, then I pull back with the chain, watching as he darkens with blood. I don’t see him anymore. Her emerald eyes swirl in his, her body twitching for release as I fuck the last breath out of her.
He pulls at the chain and I let go. His gasps fill the air. But he’s already so weak. It’s irritating.
“I’ll do a-a-anything,” he says. On his knees, he pulls at my belt and zipper. “Please. Don’t kill me.”
The zipper teeth click open like the ticking of a clock. He’s right; Iamhard, but not for him. It’s never about getting off or money. It’s about power and control. Knowing exactly what I can do.
My phone buzzes again. But this time, when I check it,Remedyflashes on the screen.
I grab the chain, shoving him off of me as I answer the phone. Spittle flies from the corners of his mouth like he’s gargling mouthwash, and I pull the chain tighter.
“Yes?” I answer the phone.
“Can you come over?” Remedy asks. “My door is still broken. And you’re right. I should learn how to do it. And the door handle on the fridge ripped off, so yeah. Things are falling apart here.”
It’s almost like she needs me.
“Be there soon,” I say.
