RADIOHEAD - BODYSNATCHERS #2
The congressman’s screams merged with the one that had escaped me upon the news of her death, one that echoed inside my skull as if her body had been discovered yesterday.
His and mine rioted together in my ears as I slid through each vertical slice with one long one that joined them altogether into a crown.
“The crown of thorns to mock the good Lord’s claim of authority,” O’Donnelly practically crooned.
“Why are you doing this?” Merriweather sobbed, his terror and pain easing my suffering.
“Because you need to die for what you’ve done,” I whispered, taking that knife and tracing it along his ribs.
“The blade ain’t long enough to find his heart from that angle,” Nyx muttered, ever pragmatic.
I stared at him. “That’s the final step. The killing blow.”
He shrugged, mumbling, “You religious headcases, I swear to fuck.”
“Let the boy have some enjoyment, Nyx,” O’Donnelly chided, clapping his hands together. “You saying you never had fun on a kill?”
“Only if I learned any details of what a sick fuck like this one had done to a kid beforehand.”
That had me frowning. “How did you know those details?”
“I didn’t get my kills delivered to me,” he scoffed.
“The MC had to ‘collect’ the pieces of shit. This is part of O’Donnelly’s entertainment.
” Nyx peered at the older man over his shoulder, his scorn confirming that he was crazy to butt heads with a man like O’Donnelly—the devil himself.
“Didn’t realize you’d be here to take in the show. ”
“An old man has to get his kicks somehow.”
Nyx grunted and, to me, drawled, “Well, come on then. You’ve clearly been planning this in your head for a while. Your first one’s always shaky. You never bring the right equipment—”
“You really don’t, do you?” O’Donnelly mused. “I remember my first time. I got their piss all over me.”
Nyx frowned. “Do I even want to know?”
“Stripped him. I learned to always keep the pants on.” He nodded. “Sage piece of wisdom for you there, boy.”
“I’m not a boy.”
“To me you are,” O’Donnelly retorted. “What do you need? I’ve got an arsenal tucked away in this warehouse. A whip? Christ got scourged before his death. We don’t have a lance, but I’m sure I’ve got a sword somewhere—”
“How the fuck do you have a sword?” Nyx demanded.
O’Donnelly tapped his nose. “Got it from a pawnbroker.”
Rolling his eyes, Nyx asked me, “You want a sword?”
“A sword?” Merriweather slurred. “My God, are you crazy?!”
O’Donnelly’s foot kicked back, and it lodged into the congressman’s belly. He coughed and spluttered, choking and hacking as O’Donnelly told him, “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain in my presence.”
Blinking, I just said, “I’ll take the sword.”
“Jonesy, you heard the boy. Get me that silver sword O’Leary brought me in ‘86.”
“Now, you gotta decide,” Nyx said, as if O’Donnelly hadn’t just asked for a sword like it was an umbrella on a wet day, “whether you want his mouth taped or not. If you want him to talk to you, then you’ll hear his screams—”
“Best part if you ask me,” O’Donnelly quipped.
Aside from an annoyed grunt, Nyx ignored him, continuing, “—they always make some noise. You can’t escape that. But if you don’t want them to talk, then we can duct tape his mouth.”
I swallowed. “I want them to confess.”
“Then deal with the screams you will.” Nyx peered back at O’Donnelly. “This place good for that?”
“Soundproofed better than a concert hall.” O’Donnelly raised a brow at me. “You know what he could confess to. Are you ready for that?”
“I was going to be a priest. I’d have heard worse sins in the confessional.”
“You would if you were serving in Five Points’ territory,” Nyx said wryly.
O’Donnelly quipped, “I wish I could say he was wrong, but he isn’t.
“Merriweather likes little boys, Harlow. A confession would bring that filth into the air. Does he deserve to confess?”
“Confession means nothing without atonement. True atonement and repentance,” I said softly, wondering if he knew that. Wondering if, like so many, he just thought he could say a couple Hail Marys and that was that—into heaven he’d go.
“And what if they atone?”
How could he?
Still… “Some sins can’t be atoned for,” I murmured as I sliced the sign of the cross into Merriweather’s saggy pec, unaware that O’Donnelly blanched when my attention was on the screaming man in my control. “Some sins require an eternity of damnation—”
“Look, I get that this is your thing, but it ain’t mine. Can we get a move on? You’re killing my buzz,” Nyx growled.
His words shook me from my thoughts. “Sorry.”
“Yeah, you should be. Bringing religion to my party,” he grumbled. “I’ll let you crucify the fucker, but let’s keep the claptrap to a bare minimum, yeah?”
I bit the inside of my cheek again. “It isn’t claptrap. I’m willing to burn in hell for this, Nyx.”
He appeared unimpressed. “Life’s a fuck-ton more terrifying than hell, Harlow, and demons get their ideas from humans.”
“I hope you’re wrong about hell,” O’Donnelly rasped. “It’s easy to think that when you’re in the middle of your life. When you’re approaching the end, your perspective shifts.”
“It can shift. There ain’t no god gonna tell me that we’re not in the right here.
” Nyx slammed Merriweather’s skull down against the concrete floor which stopped his wailing.
“Your God’s the one who brought this sick piece of shit into the world, and we’re doing him a favor by taking out his mistake. ”
O’Donnelly’s mouth popped open as if he wanted to argue.
But slowly, his lips sealed to a close.
His silence, I thought, spoke louder than words.