CHAPTER 21 DOWN FOR THE COUNT #2
Byrne's laughter came in wheezing bursts as he reached for the gun, fingers leaving smears of crimson on the polished metal before he flung it across the room. The weapon skittered across the floor and vanished into the shadows.
“Don't need that,” he growled, saliva and blood spraying with each syllable. “It’s much more fun when I have to work for it.” He dug his hips forward in vicious thrusts, denim scraping against the thin cotton of Maddy's underwear. “Gonna split you open until you bleed.”
Maddy's struggles became frantic—all elbows, knees, and animal sounds—then suddenly stopped.
His cheek pressed against the cold concrete, his chest heaving in quick, shallow breaths.
Tears streamed from his bloodshot eyes, running down the bridge of his nose and pooling beneath his face in dark, expanding circles.
“Don't give up now,” Byrne panted as he sat back, straddling the boy's body, his thighs clamping around Maddy's ribs like a vise.
“Things were just getting interesting.” He dragged the back of his hand across his shattered nose, smearing crimson across his stubbled cheek.
His split lips peeled back in a grotesque grin, revealing blood-slicked teeth.
Byrne pushed himself upright, his combat boots planted on either side of the boy's narrow hips, and stooped down, meaty fingers digging into Maddy's shoulders as he turned him onto his back.
Maddy flopped over like a dead fish, all fight—all life —emptied from him like water down a storm drain.
His once-bright eyes had gone flat and vacant, like clouded marbles, staring at some middle distance beyond the ceiling.
Fresh blood bubbled from his nostrils with each shallow breath, forming a sticky crimson trail that merged with the darker rivulet seeping from his split lower lip, pooling in the hollow of his throat.
“Hey.” Byrne lightly smacked his bloody, tear-streaked cheek, leaving a perfect red handprint on the pale skin.
“Don't check out on me.” The boy's eyelids fluttered like moth wings, but his gaze remained unfocused, pupils dilated to black pools.
Byrne huffed, his rancid breath washing over Maddy's face.
“Boy, I've fucked corpses still warm from the kill—playing dead won't stop me from fucking you raw and bloody.”
Byrne hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband of the kid's underwear and wrenched them down his legs with a single violent motion.
The cheap cotton scraped against Maddy's goose-fleshed thighs, leaving angry crimson welts where Byrne's ragged nails carved shallow furrows into the pale, dirt-smudged skin.
The boy lay motionless, chest barely rising with each shallow breath, eyes fixed on nothing.
A muscle in Byrne's jaw twitched as he scowled down at his unresponsive prey, thick fingers fumbling with his belt buckle, the metal clinking in the damp silence.
“Play it however you want, kid,” Byrne growled through blood-flecked teeth, spittle glistening in his stubble.
“You're still gonna get fucked and filleted—just like your pretty little girlfriend.” The zipper's teeth parted with a metallic hiss as he shoved his pants down his hairy thighs. His engorged cock sprang free, bobbing obscenely in the cold air—a grotesque purple-headed monstrosity with angry blue veins pulsing beneath stretched skin, a glistening pearl of pre-cum oozing from the slit. He stroked the inflated shaft, grinning down at his prey. “Yeah, she’s here, too. My dad’s taken a real shine to her.” He chuckled, panting.
“When my old man gets through with her, that tight little virgin pussy won’t be so tight anymore.
” Byrne nudged the boy with his foot. “Whaddya think of that, hm?”
The kid didn’t respond, just lay naked and glassy-eyed on the cold concrete.
Byrne chuffed and reached down to flip the boy onto his stomach—and the kid exploded to life.
Maddy's bare foot hurled upward with cobra-strike precision, the heel connecting with devastating force against Byrne's exposed genitals with a sickening fleshy crunch .
The impact drove his testicles up into his pelvic cavity with such force that a white-hot explosion of agony detonated behind his eyes.
His mouth stretched into a silent scream as his legs buckled beneath him as if the bones had suddenly dissolved, sending his knees crashing against the concrete with a solid crack that echoed off the walls.
Both hands instinctively clutched at his pulverized groin, fingers scrabbling uselessly against the waves of agony radiating outward from his core, every molecule of oxygen evacuating his lungs in a strangled wheeze that sprayed bloody droplets into the cold, stale air.
Tears flooded his vision in a crimson haze as the boy's knee rocketed upward, pulverizing what remained of his nose with a wet crunch that sent bone fragments spearing into his sinuses.
His head whiplashed backward, vertebrae popping like gunshots, before his heavy frame crashed to the concrete, his skull bouncing off the floor.
He curled into a fetal position, both hands clamped around his shattered genitals, each breath a drowning gurgle through the blood-choked cavern of his throat.
Through the high-pitched shriek filling his skull, he registered the frantic slap-slap-slap of bare feet, then the thunderous boom of the metal door slamming shut—the sound of his prey escaping.