Page 108 of Madness Behind the Mask
“Youdidbecause David Shadow wanted to make sure you only ever saw her as a thing and not your mom.”Screech. “So how did itfeelsliding your cock into herdrycunt?”
“What do you care?”
“I want to know what I have to look forward to.”
“Fuck you.”
Holding up the saw, I look at the rounded teeth. Then smile. Dropping the rock on the ground, I step to the side to grab the first box in the pilenearthe chair.Iplace it in front of him.“Last chance to tell me,boy. Save yourself a bit of misery…”I lay the blade across his forearm. The smell of piss hits the air, and I chuckle. Whistling “Ole Dan Tucker,”I slide thedull teeth across his skin. His jaw clenches; hestarts to shake. I add more pressure,jerk it harder. He flinches away from me, then instantly stills, the knives in his wrist confusing him on what to do. A moan escapes his lips, then a screamon the next run of the blade.
“I didn’t!”
Blood squirts from both sides of the saw.
Flesh gets embedded into its teeth.
“I didn’t!” he screams again, but I know he did.
Christianmight nothave said.Nor did Kallum’ssecondbefore I drained him dry and stole the ledgerDavid had hiddenin Kallum’s officeinside a dirty magazine.But I can see the guilt on Leon’s face, the shame.
Theneedto confess his sins before he dies.
Not that I willgive him absolution.
“Did you come in her?” I ask as I rake the teeth across bone. He screams when the blade digs in, and I yankhardin an attempt to free it.It rips through his bone, snapping the radius entirely, and he slams his head back into his chair as he cries.He heaves, his headnow droppinglow, his shoulders shaking. Sweet slickens his red curls flat against his head.
“Did you come in her?” I ask again.
“Yes,” he whimpers,tears rolling down his cheek.
My fingers tighten on the saw as I line it back up with the cut.“Did you like her cunt squeezing around you?”
“Yes.” The word comes out choked and raw,and my jaw ticks as an unexplainable rage crawls at my chest.
I hack at his flesh viciously, slicing the saw across him. His arms vibrate against his binds as he thrashes. Thetoolis nearly ripped out of my hands, but I tighten my grip. His radiussnapsfrom all the force, and blood gushes free. Both of his hands hang limp, shredded so only slivers of flesh keep them attached. He’s bleeding out, dying quick.
So I bite my wrist andforcemy bloodbetweenhis lips. My blood will not save him. In fact, it will kill him, but it’ll do it slowly, much slower than the saw will, and in the meantime, it will keep him alive.
As his screams vibrate across my bedroom, I start to whistle “Badineie”. The saw meets the wood of the chair. Inudge his arm into the open box, then turn the blade to his thigh.
For three hours, I hack him into seventeen various-sized pieces, feeding him my blood to keep him alive.I’m covered in his rivers of life, drenched in the sins of mine. Licking my lips, tasting that oh-so-sweet copper,Igo to stand behind him.
Rage still clawing at my chest, I line the saw up with his throat. Lean down to whistle in his ear.The blade’s gummed up with fleshnow. It’s just my sheer speed and strength that’s cutting him. He gurgles, unable to scream but still so clearly able to feel pain.
Ihack through his skin, through his vocal chords, and spine. Gripping his hair, Istand andyank his head back to do those final cuts.He stares up at me, his dull green eyes so wide in pain and terror. “You took what was mine,” I hiss.“Tell me, was it worth it?”
But of course he can’t say.
He barely has a neck anymore.
Just a sliver of flesh.
Growling, I drop the saw,rearrangemy fingers in his hair, andpull.
The sound of a wet tearrips through the room, rips through his flesh too. I have the urge to throw his head at the wall, but instead I drop it onto his chest. It rolls down his butchered body and lands in the box placed in front of the chair.
I stare at him for a moment, the rage swirling inside me unwanted.
This isn’t revenge for her.
