Page 88 of Wicked

Psyko and Royce jump up on a couple of chairs, doing as they’re told. I block out everything else happening behind me when I line the nail up against his wrist, right over his most prominent vein. I draw the hammer back before slamming it down onto the heavy metal. His scream is instant and excitement grows inside my body. I hit again. And again. Blood squirts out and onto my face when I finally feel the hardness of the wood behind his hands.

Jumping off the chair, I force his feet together, pressing them against the wooden pillar and start my work.

Bang. Bang. More blood. Every hit, I feel everything that he has done to me over the years slowly seep out of my body.

I stand straight, dropping the hammer to the ground and tearing off my shirt, adrenaline cursing through my veins sowildly every demonic entity that resides inside of me comes roaring to the surface to play.

“Roy,” someone whispers.

“Leave him. This is Hangman.”

I stumble backward and watch as his blood drips down and hits the dirt. His screams turn into wails, and I know I’ve hit a main artery somewhere because he’s fading too fast.

“Fuck!” I spin around to find Royce. “He’s fading.”

“Well.” Royce smiles his boyish grin. “There is the meat grinder.” He’s right. That shit has got to be painful. I yank the nails out of his feet as Psyko and now Val takes the ones out of his wrist. His body falls to the ground in a thud and Val picks him up with Royce on the other side.

“To the back.” His feet drag across the dirt as I lead them to the back of the half burned barn, thankfully not this side, and I call out to Royce. “Light!”

He points his phone onto the heavy metal machine. “It’s manual. Satisfying enough?”

“Yeah.” The machine sits against a back wall, where saws, knives, and other metal utensils are hanging on the wall. “Who the fuck did this?”

Psyko shrugs. “It’s my play area.”

Mine and Royce’s eyes lock for a moment, before I tell them to throw him on the table that moves toward the grinder when I start turning it. “Feet first.”

The fact that he’s in pain is enough for me. Crucifixion is like lightning electrocuting you inside out. The nerves in your feet are linked to different areas of your body. It’s fucking painful, but not satisfying. I had planned to drag this out longer, but thanks to my erratic beast that lives inside of me, I got too excited and hit an artery I shouldn’t have.

I bring both hands to the metal handle as “Psychosocial” starts blasting out of the car and Psyko starts dancing aroundin circles. The chaos only adds to the electric atmosphere, and when his feet meet the grinder, the handle gets harder to turn. Royce jumps on the other side where an identical one sticks out. We both roll it forward and Skully launches up from his lying position, the whites in his eyes now bloodshot red.

Val forces him back down as we continue to roll him through. I peek over my shoulder to see the remnants of his minced corpse fill the barrel. When we hit the middle, his chest expands and his mouth opens unnaturally wide as blood and minced organs spill out between his lips.

I snicker. “Nowhere to go.”

“Love when that happens.” Psyko leans down near Skully’s face, dipping his finger into the mush exiting his mouth and drawing an upside-down cross over the center of his forehead. Royce and I keep rolling him through until finally we get to the bottom of his chin.

I stop, scanning his face. “Almost wanna take a shot of this and hang it on the wall of fame.”

“Fucking hell.” Val swipes the sweat off his forehead. “You always this messy?”

“No,” I shake my head before unrolling his neck and picking up his head, bringing it up to my face. The skin of his neck flaps against my arms as the tube from his throat dangles farther down. Tossing his head into the barrel, I look back at Val’s man.

“Jesus… you skinned him in that time?” His bare muscles are exposed, no sign of skin or even a recognizable face.

“Yep. It’s my specialty.”

“Same as Royce.” I chuckle. Stepping back, I fall onto the chair that Royce was on. The music still plays loudly, and Val taps my shoulder in passing as he makes his way back to his car.

“It gets better,” Royce says, taking the chair beside mine. “One day at a time.”

“Yeah, I just hope she doesn’t make it too difficult for me.”

“Oh, her?” Royce doesn’t hide his loud bark of laughter. “Hell nah, brother. You’re fucked with that one. I was talking about being president.”

“Asshole.”

“Brothers, though.” Royce taps my fist with his. “Through it fucking all.”

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