Chapter 15
I could have fucked her after putting the blade inside her, but that would be too cruel, I reasoned.
No, for now, I needed to take care of her little ‘sister’ problem in the barn. The problem she still had no clue of.
Walking over the gravel path, I headed to the barn and shut the door behind me, locking it. It’s soundproof in here, so no one should hear her screams. I’ve made certain of that.
I was going to handle this tomorrow, but then Amy disobeyed me, and I was disgusted after that. She had to be punished, and her even going against my word just ruined the mood. I can’t sleep knowing such insolence is inside her.
Maybe you might think I’m overreacting, but I think I’m handling this quite well, actually. I’m remarkably calm.
Her sister, on the other hand, well…
When she sees me, she starts crying. Sobbing, really. It’s pathetic. Just like Amy when she gets upset, she turns into a blubbering mess.
Hanging from the rope around the wooden beam, her forearm is gone, with just a sad little stump left. After cauterizing the wound, it stopped bleeding, which should give us more time to chat.
“I thought we needed to speak a bit more this evening. It’s been a little while, so surely, you’ve thought more about your repentance, mm?” I drawl.
“N-never,” she spits, still crying. “You can’t force me to believe what you believe. I… I can’t…”
“Can’t what? Can’t just give in so you can be with your sister?” I scoff. “All this can end, Amelia.”
“You’re sick,” she blubbers.
“And you’re not in a position to be insulting people, are you, Amelia?” I roll my eyes, walking over to where my saw lay in a pile of hay. Picking it up, I come to stand beside her. “Now… shall we resume, or are you ready to confess unto the Lord?”
Her eyes widen when she sees the blade already covered in her blood. “Please don’t. Please?—”
“I don’t have to, Amelia. If you’d just give in. You’re the one making me do this. I’d much prefer to be with my soon-to-be wife, and yet I must be here taking care of a little problem.”
“Wife?” she sputters, a sheen of sweat breaking out on her forehead. “You plan to marry my sister?”
“Oh yes,” I confirm casually. “I was thinking we’d have a nice little ceremony this week. I can officiate it, you know. You’re welcome to come, of course, being family.”
Amelia just shakes her head, beginning to sob harder. “Please just let me go. Let us go.”
I tut. “Now, you must know I won’t do that. I can’t, dear Amelia. I have a beautiful woman who carries my child in that house, and you’ve already threatened to call the cops.”
She cries, “I won’t tell. I promise.”
“See, the problem is, I don’t believe you.” I raise the saw, and she flinches, but I merely use it to cut her down. This would be easier on the floor.
Falling down with a thump, unable to hold herself up on her legs, she gasps in pain when she hits the ground.
“I won’t, I promise. Please…”
I come to sit over her, straddling her backwards as I hold her leg with one hand and use the other to hold the saw.
When she realizes what I’m doing, she struggles, but it’s useless. I’m stronger than her.
“Say you’ll repent, Amelia.”
“I… I won’t be a part of this.”
Very well. She’s made her choice.
“Then this is your own fault,” I say simply, lowering the saw to begin cutting into her thigh.
She screams, a blood-curdling sound that would make any other person flinch, yet for me, I just smile wider. I revel in this.
Blood has always been something I was fascinated by. Blood and dead things, the loss of life and how after death, the Lord takes us into his arms for Judgement. How we’re all so very, very mortal, and yet we live to be judged by the immortal God.
And every time I kill someone, to send the sinner to Judgement, I’m taking part in God’s greater plan.
I keep cutting, but my mind is far, far away.
He first spoke to me in a vision a long while ago; I can’t remember precisely when. But it was in a dream, and I was certain it was the Lord because I saw Him in His glory before me.
I couldn’t possibly describe the beautiful creature I witnessed. Couldn’t possibly put it into words.
And yet this being, this heavenly host, whispered to me that God would use me as a vessel on this earth. That I would be the flesh he’d use to change the terrible way sinners lived in this world.
My mother was a prostitute. My father was a drunk. Both of them were good to me and did everything they could to give me a pleasant childhood, and yet I grew to resent them the more I learned from the Bible.
My mother lived in sin, bedding a new man every night. My father made liquor his god and looked past my mother’s many ‘husbands’ in the flesh.
I haven’t spoken to either of those fuckers in ten years, and I have no regrets.
Sometimes I wish I could go back and cleanse them too, but I have no clue where they live now, what their numbers are. Perhaps it’s better this way; they’re nearing old age. God will judge them soon.
But Amelia, however…
She screams again just as the saw reaches bone. God, I can’t deny how much I enjoy that sound. I think that’s the only sick part of all this, that I enjoy it. But then again, I’m doing the Lord’s work.
Maybe I should enjoy carrying out the work of God. It’s probably for the best that way.
For the Lord has said, “If you are willing and obedient, you shall eat the good of the land.” Isiah 1:19. He desires willing servants.
And I am anything but unwilling.
Sawing through the bone, I feel a little give, but I finally manage to slice through. Blood spurts like a faucet has been turned one, squelching under my boots and soaking my pants.
Her flesh is palpable under my hands, and when I pull the leg away, cutting through any remaining tendons and sinew, she passes out from the pain.
I cauterize the wound just like I did the previous one. But honestly? After Amy disobeyed me? I’m not really giving a fuck about her feelings right now.
Who cares if her sister dies?
Letting out an annoyed sigh, I leave her body lying in the hay and dirt, sprawled out and oozing.
Two limbs down.
I’ll have to cut these into pieces as an offering. Hell, maybe we can make use of this meat. Using my smaller knife, I get to work cutting into her thigh meat, making fillets with my blade that can be savored by the Lord.
I’ll do a burnt offering instead of merely burying the limbs. God will appreciate that.
But more on that tomorrow. For now, I set the meat to the side for later, feeling exhausted from a good night’s work. Besides, Amy is waiting for me. She’s probably asleep, despite being tied up.
Leaving the barn, I give one last glance to Amelia’s dismembered form. Pathetic , I sneer.
I return to the house, locking the door behind me, and head to the bedroom where I left Amy. She reminds me of Melissa at times, and I don’t like that. Same hair color, same sass.
It’s something that ignites the rage in me at times. Perhaps that’s why I’m so hard on her. For we all sin and fall short of the glory of God, even me, and maybe I shouldn’t punish her so harshly.
In the bedroom, beyond the shadows I left when I turned out the light on my way out before, she lay still tied up and stretched by each limb, the way I left her. I grin at the sight, at the blood I left in my wake through my cuts to her flesh.
I’ll show her there’s nothing to fear.
Undoing my pants, I release my cock and start stroking, getting it hard within seconds. She’s asleep, just like I figured she’d be, and that’s how I prefer things.
“I’ll show you my love,” I whisper. “The love of a Father,” I add, climbing onto the bed between her legs. There’s still blood, and I know this will hurt, but she’ll feel pleasure too. I ensure it, as I grab a vibrator from the bedside table.
Turning it on, it buzzes softly in my hand, and I maneuver it to rest over her clit. She stirs slightly, moaning in her sleep, but otherwise she doesn’t move. Good girl.
Then I slowly, ever so slowly, enter my cock into her sliced-up pussy.
Her eyes shoot open then, and she cries out in pain from the pressure on her inner wounds. But I rub the vibrator in circles, and soon that pain and pleasure mix in abundance.
“Good girl,” I croon. “Very good.”
I pump in and out slowly, not wanting to hurt her too much from friction on the wounds.
But damn, this pussy feels so good. Even sliced by a blade.
She begins to hump against the vibrator, the buzz in the air positively electric. And with each thrust of her hips, she cries out in pain and pleasure.
Soon, she’s coming on my cock, and then I’m spurting my seed inside her.
“That’s right, you good little whore,” I praise, my chest rapidly rising and falling in need, in wanting, in euphoria from both of us that tangles headily in the air. “You perfect fucking slut.”
She stares at me as I unsheathe myself from her pussy, setting the vibrator on the bedside table covered in her juices. Her blood glistens in my cock, along with cum, and I reach down to swipe a bead of my cum from the head of my cock, mixing it with the blood before tasting it.
Amy shudders as I whisper, “Delicious.”
I fix my pants, then move to undo her bonds with the rope. She sits up on the mattress with a wince, rubbing her wrists and ankles.
“We’ll be getting married tomorrow,” I decide, my voice holding finality. “Be prepared, dear Amy.”