THIRTY-SEVEN
T he dark hallway narrows on us, and Noelle stops walking. She’s not showing any reaction, and that fucking terrifies me more than seeing her enraged or scared. We’re in front of a tall, metal door that can only be unlocked from the outside, and there are three people on the inside.
I’m not making the same mistake twice with leaving that bastard unattended. I found the people who released him from my basement, and they’re no longer amongst the living. He’ll join them soon.
“Are you okay?”
Noelle’s eyes narrow, but she’s not looking at me. She’s still staring at the door, a small frown attaching itself to her face. Then, her lips purse, and she seems to be in deep thought.
“I’m fine,” she says, voice loud enough for me to hear. “I’m just contemplating how to kill him.”
I chuckle, but the situation isn’t funny, not even in the slightest. I’m glad she made the decision to get this over with, but it’s still eerie how she’s remaining cold, heartless, and stoic. This is the same girl who screamed at the mention of his name in the hospital. I’m worried that she’ll go to that dark place again and this time, she won’t return to me.
“Should we leave it for another day?”
She immediately shakes her head. “No. I need to finish this and move on.”
I nod.
My fingers move over the digital lock, and I type in the password. The lock turns green, and the door slides to the left, the small room fully in our view. Noelle takes a deep breath and steps inside first.
The two men who kept Dylan in check leave as soon as I nod at them, and the door remains open. He’s alive and in good shape. It’s not perfect. I couldn’t contain myself from beating the shit out of him over time. He is kept fed, given water often, and even his wounds are tended to.
I couldn’t risk him getting an infection and dying before Noelle decided it was time for him to die.
Noelle takes a seat on the carpeted floor, propping her elbow on her thigh and resting her head in her palm. She’s staring at him without speaking. He’s switching between looking at me and at her, the gag in his mouth preventing him from speaking.
I glance down at Noelle, and she nods. She’s not even looking at me, but she knows what I want to do. My hand grabs the gag, and I pull it out of his mouth, not giving a shit that I break his front tooth in the process.
“Hi, Dylan.”
Noelle’s voice is dry, rough, and dark. He remains silent, his lips pulling into a thin line. Noelle’s lips purse, and she sighs.
“Ah, I see. You don’t want to speak to me. Why? Because you didn’t think I’d survive? Or because there’s nothing you can say that will get you out of what you know is waiting for you?”
Dylan remains silent, and Noelle snaps.
She stands up, and she’s in front of him in a second. Her hand grips his hair, and she pulls on it roughly until the bastard screams. She gets in his face, and I’m just watching from the sidelines.
“I’m speaking, motherfucker. It’s only polite to engage in a conversation with the woman you tortured for days.”
He turns his head as far to the side as he can, considering she has a tight grip on his hair. Noelle chuckles and nods. Then, she fists her hand and slams it right into his balls.
I wince.
This serves as a reminder never to piss her off.
Dylan screams out in pain, and he immediately turns to look at her. He’s trying to intimidate her with his harsh, cold stare, but he doesn’t even come close. The woman in front of him is a trained assassin, a soldier. He caught her by surprise once, and it will never happen again.
He cannot intimidate her.
He no longer scares her.
“Noelle,” he grits out, eyes wide with fury. “You’ll regret this.”
She cocks her head to the side. “Oh, I will? I don’t think so. The list of things I regret is very, very short. This whole thing doesn’t even make the cut. So, before I end this, I just have a question for you. Did you really think you’d be able to marry me and keep me?”
Dylan remains silent.
“Because from where I’m standing, I would’ve escaped, one way or the other. Even if it meant death. So what was the plan after that? It just doesn’t make any sense, Dylan. I trusted you. I loved you as a friend, and I was going to marry you regardless.”
“No, you weren’t,” he spits out.
Oh, he’s done for. I interrupted her once, and I have a scar on my cheek because of it. He’s about to die the most painful, brutal death he could possibly think of.
“Before this bastard appeared, maybe. But after? You were trying to do everything in your power to end it all.”
Noelle nods. “That’s true. Do you think there’s no reason for that? I mean, you were acting too suspicious. Why did your mask falter? Were you that impatient?”
“Yes,” he hisses, his eyes wide and a nasty grin on his face. “I wanted you all for myself. Is that so wrong?”
“Not at all. Many men want me.” She shrugs her shoulder and finally lets go of his hair. He’s tied to a chair with chains that weigh eight times his weight. There’s no room for him to even wiggle around, let alone escape. She knows it, too, so she’s not worried about looking away from him.
“Hudson, is this the knife?”
I nod.
Lyla was smart to keep the knife he had pressed against Noelle’s neck. I cleaned it, sharpened it, and made sure it’s in its best condition. Somehow, I had a gut feeling she’d want to use the same knife.
“Now.” She grabs it and plays with it for a while, a sadistic grin on her face. My cock hardens in my pants as I see my future wife approach her target, flashing the dagger in his face. “How many women were saved from the auction house?”
“Thirty-eight,” I respond.
“How many were found dead?”
“Nine in total.”
She nods.
“That means forty-seven victims in total. Let me just tell you something, Dylan. I’m not interested in spending too much time here because I have a cruiser waiting for me once I’m done with this. So I won’t be wasting any of my time here, but you’ll remember that the last person you saw alive, the person who took your life, is the same woman you thought wasn’t strong enough to beat you.”
Noelle no longer uses unnecessary words. She grips the handle of the sharp knife, and a wide grin tugs on the corner of her lips.
Viciously, Noelle starts cutting his flesh. It’s deep enough to draw blood and cause an immense amount of pain, but not deep enough to make him bleed to death. It’s slow, and his blood starts gushing out, coating her white shirt.
“This is for every girl you laid your filthy hands on.”
Slash.
“This is for every person whose life you ruined.”
Slash.
“This is for every person whose life you took.”
Slash.
“This is for every time you hit me. For every time you fucking watched me drown.”
Stab.
“This is for daring to destroy the lives of many.”
Stab.
“Fuck you.”
Stab.
“And this one is for daring to fucking interrupt me while I was speaking.”
Another stab in his thigh.
Dylan is gasping for air, his scream filling the room. It makes Noelle’s eyes widen in satisfaction. Her usage of the knife becomes more brutal, more ruthless, and more vicious. His pleas, his desperation, feed her more than anything, and she’s not holding back.
Noelle is laughing like a maniac, his blood splashing her face and body, and the metal in her hands is no longer silver. The blood drips from it, but she wipes it against her shirt, then continues to tarnish what’s left of his body.
“Please.” He’s begging, screaming, and trying to free himself.
Noelle doesn’t let him.
“Oh, so now you know the meaning of the word ‘please’? But when it was me who begged, you paid no attention to it. When you put shackles on all those women and ignored their tears and begging, it was fun, wasn’t it?”
I can barely see Noelle’s face. It’s soaking from the blood, and some droplets are slowly sliding down her cheeks. She takes a deep breath and tilts her head to the side, staring at her work of art.
“Hm, it’s missing something.” She ponders that thought, then her brows shoot up to her hairline and another demonic grin tugs on the corner of her lips. “Oh, I know!”
Teasingly, Noelle points the tip of the blade at his dick, and he freezes. Fear washes over him, and he’s shaking his head furiously, his eyes filled with tears. It makes me chuckle, but neither of them notice me.
“No, please,” he utters out. “Please, Noelle, please.”
“Beg me more, motherfucker.”
He swallows, the pain getting to him. He’s barely keeping his eyes open at this point, but Noelle slaps the shit out of him to keep him sane and awake. She doesn’t let him close his eyes, and he snaps back to reality after she slaps him for the fourth time in a row.
“Please.” He swallows, the desperation in his voice filling Noelle’s sadistic need to see more of his blood. “Please, don’t do it. Not that.”
“Not what? Your dick?”
He nods. “Don’t do it, Noelle. If you’re going to kill me, at least let me die as a man.”
She crouches down until she’s eye to eye with him, the blade still pressed against his crotch.
“But you’re not a man.” Her eyes are wide as she whispers the words. “You’re a pathetic little bitch. You don’t deserve an ounce of masculinity because you never had it. You preyed on the weak. Used and abused them to feed into that mentality of yours. But guess what?”
Noelle inches closer, whispering in his ear, but it’s loud enough for me to hear.
“You’re not a man, Dylan. You don’t have an ounce of masculinity in you. You’re pathetic, weak, and fucked up. And the woman you tortured for days has come to kill you, ruin you, and take your last breath. Doesn’t it feel nice?”
“You bitch.”
She’s no longer listening.
Noelle pushes the blade into his flesh, and he screams. The tip of the blade pierces through his dick and I see the horror, the pain, and the desperation in his eyes. He glances down and starts crying.
My girl just laughs in his face.
“Now you’re crying? I should just cut your dick off and hang it in a museum to show people what micro-dicks actually look like.”
Oh, so she’s aiming for his ego, too.
That’s my girl.
He whimpers like a pathetic dog, sniffling. When she pulls the blade out of his cock, he screams. Noelle wipes the excess blood on her palm and then smears it all over his face with the widest smile I’ve ever seen.
Noelle looks so fucking hot. She’s covered in his blood, and it makes my cock ache in my pants. It shouldn’t be like this, not when I just witnessed her piercing a knife through another man’s cock.
Then, she positions the blade against his throat.
“Any last words?”
“Fuck you, bitch.”
Noelle chuckles. “I’ll be fucking him.” She points with her thumb in my direction, and I grin at the motherfucker.
For the grand finale, Noelle slashes his throat. It’s one of the worst deaths, but it’s not too deep. Usually, if cut deep enough, a person will die within a minute. Not this time. He will be bleeding out and choking on his own blood for a long time before he dies.
She pulls the knife away and pushes it into his chest. It’s not her first time, so she only grazes his heart.
“I hope you rot in hell, bastard.”