57. Four
Four
Iparked my truck and got out. Not caring about shit else but getting to Paul and Isaac Kilmore.
I promised Cori vengeance and heads, and that’s what she was going to get.
Did I understand why she wanted me to bring the Lidell brothers?
No, but I did what I was asked to do. I knocked on the door, stepped back, put my hands in my pockets, and waited.
Citrine opened the door and gave me a brief nod.
“Living room,” he said, stepping back. I nodded and walked into the living room.
Amethyst and Pyrite stood talking while Paul and Isaac laid knocked out on the floor.
There wasn’t a reason to talk. I grabbed Isaac by his ankle and dragged him out of the house.
One of the Lidell’s grabbed Paul and followed behind me.
We threw the Kilmores in the bed of my truck and drove to the warehouse.
“You got a plan?” Script asked once we were at the warehouse. I dropped my keys, phone, and wallet in the storage bin. I didn’t care about covering my clothes; I’d burn them.
“I don’t need a plan,” I replied. I grabbed Paul by his ankle and dragged him to the room I wanted to use.
I looked around, finally deciding on the Mustard 31/0 Giant Circle Hook that hung from the ceiling by a chain.
I let go of Paul’s ankle, walked around him, picked him up, and carried him to the hooks.
With ease, I lifted him and hooked him onto the hooks.
The points went through his underarms and out of his shoulders.
Paul screamed at the top of his lungs, and his eyes bulged from his sockets. “Welcome to hell.”
I sat in the chair across from Paul and watched as he struggled. His body shook as he tried to figure out what was going on and how to get out of it.
“Please!” Paul screamed. “Please!”
“There’s no reason to scream,” I told him as I leaned forward. “Nobody here is going to come and save you.” I stood, walking around him. Did the hooks hurt? Probably, but hell, I couldn’t feel pain, so it didn’t matter to me. “Moving is only going to make it worse.”
“Let me go,” he seethed. His eyes watered, but he stopped moving. Maybe he wasn’t as dumb as I thought. “Your father-“
I hit Paul in the mouth before he could finish his sentence.
His head snapped back then fell forward.
I grabbed his face, lifting his head to make him look at me.
“Never refer to Robert as anything but his name.” I let his face go then patted his cheek twice.
“Now, as you were saying?” Paul mugged the hell out of me, and I smiled.
“You might want to start talking before I get bored. Your brother is around here somewhere. You aren’t valuable. ”
“He said you were ruthless,” Paul chuckled, then smiled. Blood smeared across his teeth, and he swayed. “He said if you ever came after us that you’d more than likely kill us, and I didn’t believe him.”
“You should’ve,” I shrugged. “Robert knows what he created.”
“Not your father-“
I grabbed Paul’s arms and pulled him down.
The hooks cut through his shoulders, and he dropped to the ground.
Blood freely flowed from his open wounds.
His arms stayed connected to his shoulders by skin.
The muscles, tendons, and bones were visible.
Paul screamed, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he rolled side to side.
He was eventually going to go into shock and shut up.
I stepped on his right shoulder, making him scream louder and start to convulse.
“I told you not to call him my father,” I said, moving my foot from his shoulder to grab the hooks hanging from the ceiling.
“I see you a hard-headed nigga though. Which is cool.” I approached him, and when I was close enough, I set the hook on the ground and flipped him over.
Paul shook in pain, and I didn’t give a fuck.
I picked up the hook and pushed it through the side of his neck, not stopping until the tip of the hook came through the other side.
Paul gurgled on his blood and moaned in pain.
He wasn’t going to last long, but the pain I was going to inflict would follow him into hell.
I stood, went back to the wall, and pressed the button to tighten the chain, which lifted him off the ground.
Blood flowed from the hook and his mouth.
I approached him; his eyes rolled back into his head.
His arms barely attached to his body, the hook through his neck killing him.
I watched him until I was sure he was as close to death as he could be without actually dying.
I went to the control panel and lowered him until the tips of his toes grazed the ground.
Paul choked on his blood as he tried to get his footing.
I smirked, then approached him and grabbed the end of the hook sticking out of his neck and the top of his head.
I held his head in place and pulled the hook from one side of his neck to the other, cutting his head off.
His body dropped to the ground, and I carried his head out of the room by his hair.
I went to the room where the Lidell brothers were holding Isaac and opened the door. Isaac sat strapped to the chair; Script stood behind him, a scalpel in his uncast hand. Isaac's head was cut at the hairline, and his skin was being peeled back.
“Your woman gave me the idea,” he said.
“My woman?” I repeated, and he nodded. “When?”
“At the house, she said she would skin me alive if Judah got hurt on the dirt bike I bought him,” he replied, then held up the knife. “I wanted to see why she was adamant about doing it.”
“And?”
He smiled. “I see why she likes it,” he answered, then looked down at Isaac’s head and put the scalpel against his scalp.
“Stop.”
Script looked up, confused. “Why? She doesn’t want him dead?”
“Nah, she does, but I got questions first,” I said, shaking my head.
“Ask the fuck niggas brother, then.” I lifted Paul’s head, and Script kissed his teeth. “So I gotta stop having fun because your temper got the best of you?”
“I’m not mad,” I told him as I lowered the head. “And you gotta stop because I promised my woman the head of every nigga on my list and he’s on my list.”
“Can I at least see his brain?” Script asked. “I ain’t ever seen one intact before.”
“Fine,” I grunted, then dropped Paul’s head. “But first I want to see his heart stop beating in real time.”