2. Dahlia
My answerto what Drake had planned came soon after stepping into the warehouse. The front door was latched with a chain and padlock. Though, these two items looked far less aged than the rest of the building. In fact, they looked shiny and new, as if they’d been put on only a few hours before.
Drake unlocked the padlock, swung the chain aside, and opened the door. Inside, the building was shrouded in shadows and swirling moats of dust. The roof had a few holes rusted through it, and the last rays of the afternoon sunshine filtered through them as the only source of light.
The door clunked shut behind me as Drake closed it, unable to lock it again, he slid a crowbar through the handle and wedged it against the frame to keep it from opening again.
“If I didn’t know better,” I said, “I’d think you’d brought me here to do unspeakable things to me and leave my body in a ditch.”
“Very funny,” Drake said.
In the distant interior of the building the faint but familiar sound of a gagged man trying to call for help echoed toward us.
“Is that what I think it is?” I asked, turning to Drake with wide-eyed surprise.
“Come on,” he said, taking my hand.
The warehouse stank of rust, dirt, and mildew. Beneath our feet, the grittiness of the concrete floor made scratching hissing sounds as we walked. The further we walked into the building the more I noticed an electric glow at the center. Some type of lighting had been set up. Through old-world shelving, I finally caught sight of it. Three large portable spotlights had been set up. Drake led me around the shelves, and at last I saw what he’d surprised me with.
A man. He sat tied to a chair, thrashing and bucking at the zip ties and ropes that bound him. Tears, snot, and sweat smeared his face. When he saw us round the corner, he screamed, his shout muffled by a thick gag. The fabric had been tied so tight that his cheeks were pulled taut, unable to actually close his mouth.
“Who is he?” I asked, already feeling the electric tingle of excitement dancing across my skin.
Drake put a hand on my back and leaned in close. “His name is Judah Milroy. I’ve actually been looking for him for some time. An American expat who came to Europe after his crimes were discovered back home.”
I eyed the man, his intense gaze locking on mine. He wanted help, had assumed that when I showed up, I’d try and save him, try and fight Drake. Whatever he saw in my eyes must have told him his savior was nowhere in sight. After a few seconds, he flinched away, screaming out for help again, this time more fervently.
“What did he do?” I hissed, teeth gritting. My fingers ached to hold a knife.
“He was a multi-year volunteer as youth camp counselor at a Methodist church summer camp. He enjoyed girls and boys alike, and must have decided that was the best place to find his prey. By the time victims came forward, he’d molested and raped nearly thirty-two children, ages eight to twelve. His father had money, lots of it. Bought him all the best lawyers.” Drake walked over to the man and began to untie his gag. “Even Daddy’s money couldn’t stop the victims from telling their stories. Apparently our man Judah was very good at intimidation, gaslighting, and coercion. It seems that when things looked incredibly bleak, Judah’s lawyers asked for house arrest until the end of the trial. The judge agreed, but he had to turn over his passport. As you and I know, however, new passports are easy to come by when you have money.
“He ran and came to Europe. The father told the authorities that he’d attacked him; the pictures were very believable.” Drake leaned down to speak directly to Judah. “Did you and Daddy plan it out? Hit me here and here, but not there? Not too much blood but not too little?”
“You don’t understand,” the man said, mouth finally free of the gag. “Please, you’ve got the wrong guy. My name is Charles. Charles Craig. I don’t know who this Judah person is. Please.”
“Yes, yes,” Drake muttered. “Charles Craig, a pretty well-made false identity, but you’re not as smart as you think. Probably never been told no in your life, have you, Judah? Daddy’s money bought you all you ever wanted. You probably thought those kids belonged to you. Well, you fucked up when you used one of your old usernames on a porn site. You see, I’ve been looking for you, and had all those usernames set to ping me if they were used. Honestly, Interpol and the FBI more than likely were notified as well, but,” Drake shook his head sadly, “bureaucracy is a slow churning beast. Jurisdiction, cross organization planning, extradition? All things that have to be figured out. You’d have had at least two or three days before they found you. Imagine my surprise when the IP address of the username showed you were right here. Less than ten miles from where my lovely lady and I were vacationing.”
Judah stared at Drake in wide eyed horror, swallowing convulsively. There was understanding in his eyes. The dark pitiless pools of Drake’s own eyes gave the man no comfort, so he turned to me again.
“Ma’am, please? You have to help me. He’s crazy. He kidnapped me. You have to help?”
I glared at him. Drake was always right. This man was guilty of everything, and most likely more. The rich little fuck had probably raped girls in high school and molested kids for years. Cruising through life thinking he was untouchable.
Instead of answering the man, I turned to Drake and smiled. “This is the best gift ever. Thank you, babe.”
The man’s face went slack with shock, and he gaped at us as Drake walked over, pulled me close, and kissed me.
Drake’s body pressed into mine, the heat of his mouth and the thought of what I was about to do made my head spin. My pussy throbbed as his tongue slid into my mouth, and I imagined sliding a blade into the man next to us.
When he pulled away from me, I moaned, wishing we could continue. That thought was pushed aside when he went a few feet and pulled an old dirty tarp off of a table. What I saw there filled me with excitement. Several knives, a hammer, a screwdriver, and what looked a bit like a bolt cutter, but the blades were curved rather than straight.
“Do you approve?” Drake asked, gesturing to the items.
“They’re beautiful,” I said, and anyone listening might have thought I was talking about some diamond jewelry.
“No,” Judah screamed and thrashed harder. “Please.” His shout echoed through the building, but I’d seen the area we were in. There was no one around to hear him.
Drake beckoned me over, and I joined him, running a finger across the bolt cutter-like tool. “What is this?”
“Cable cutters. Made for cutting through copper and steel cables. Up to two inches thick.” He shrugged. “It was what they had lying around here. I was in a hurry and couldn’t get any fresh tools for you.”
I caressed his cheek. “They’re perfect.”
My body thrummed with energy and excitement. It had been so long since I’d punished. So many days and weeks since I’d been able to bask in the cacophony of suffering. I felt like an addict who’d gone cold turkey and now a dealer had shown up with exactly what I needed.
Lifting the cable cutters, I held it out at arm’s length. The twenty-four-inch handles ended in two wickedly curved blades. When I opened and closed them a few times, I heard and felt the rust and dirt inside grinding. These had not been used in a long time. They needed to be oiled. Maybe blood would be a good lubricant?
Judah looked like a cornered animal as I stepped toward him. The acrid smell of piss hit my nose, and a stream patterned to the ground beneath his seat.
“Ugh,” I said. “Why do they always piss themselves?”
“Please no, please no, please no.” He whimpered, begging.
“Did those kids you fucked beg?” I asked, not even trying to hide my disdain.
“They…they…I didn’t hurt them,” he finally managed. “It was just sex, for fuck’s sake,” he shouted.
“Oh.” I nodded. “Well, if it was just sex, then no big deal, right? Not like they won’t carry the fucking scar of what you did to them the rest of their lives, right?”
“My dad will pay you,” he said, new and fervent hope in his eyes. “He’ll pay you so much, just let me go.” Snot hung off his nose, and tears glistened on his cheeks.
I shook my head, giving him my best fake sad face. “Judah, this is the day you learn that money can no longer buy you out of trouble.”
Before he could respond, I reached forward, placed the cutters on the soft spot below his kneecap, and squeezed the handles closed. The blades worked perfectly, tucking into the flesh, sliding in and behind the patella tendon, and with a sound like scissors through wet pasta, the tendon sliced in two. Blood pulsed from the wound, and I could see the yellow white of the tendon, along with the meaty gristle around the knee.
Judah’s eyes went wide, jaw hanging open, a gagging gasping sound issuing from his mouth, like he’d fallen and had the breath knocked out of him and couldn’t catch it. Finally, as the blood pooled at his feet, a scream burst from his lungs, guttural and shocked, laden with agony and surprise.
He leaned forward vomiting on his own lap. I jumped back in surprise before the puke could splatter my shoes.
“Fucking gross,” I muttered.
Judah sat, vomit hanging from his lips in strings, staring at his ruined knee. Drake appeared a moment later, dragging over an old hose with a sprayer attachment. He pressed the trigger, and hosed the man off, making sure to angle the stream right at the knee wound at one point. Judah howled in pain again, but that devolved into watery choking sounds as Drake blasted his face with the hose. Once the man was again clean, Drake turned the hose off and smiled at me.
“I don’t want you getting messy,” he said with a shrug.
“You’re so considerate, Drake. Thank you.”
“You’re crazy,” Judah moaned. “You’re both crazy.”
“We’re crazy?” I asked with a bitter smile. “We aren’t the ones who fuck children. We aren’t the ones who ruined innocent lives. That’s you. All I’m doing is giving those children the vengeance they couldn’t have.”
Images of my own childhood flashed through my mind. Man after man stripping me naked, and brutalizing my young body. Slapping, pinching, and biting me as they thrust their filthy cocks into every orifice I had. For years, I’d daydreamed about a time when I’d be strong enough to make them pay. Now, thanks to Drake, I did have that strength.
“Did you ever like to dance, Judah?” I asked.
“Huh?” he said, looking at me with pain-dulled eyes.
Without answering, I knelt on the wet ground, placed the cutters on his left Achilles, squeezed the handles together, and watched with pleasure as that tendon parted, the calf muscle rolling up toward the back of his knee like a shutter being drawn. The man jerked, spasming in torment, trying to pull his leg away, but the binds kept him in place.
“If you did like to dance, you never will again,” I said, suppressing a slight giggle.
I snapped the other Achilles as well, then tossed the tool aside. Bored of it. Judah alternated between crying, screaming, and dry heaving, while I walked back to the table and picked up the hammer.
“You are so fucking hot,” Drake said from the shadows. “A magnificent creature. My very own Lady Death.”
With a flick of my wrist, I brought the hammer head down on Judah’s collarbone. Not hard enough to break skin, just enough to burst the bone beneath. More screams, more begging, more tears. Drake held eye contact with me as I broke the second collarbone. There’d never been a time in my life when I’d been so horny. All I could think of was having Drake, but there was still some work to do.
“Have you started to see the error of your ways yet?” I asked, leaning down to get a look at Judah’s eyes.
The man’s chest was swelling like crazy, and beneath the skin, I could see the malformed bones. Soon they would vanish beneath the swollen flesh. The hammer slid from my fingers, clattering to the floor.
“You fucking bitch,” Jonah sobbed. “You fucking bitch. Do you know who my father is?”
“He manages a hedge fund,” Drake said. “Far from a terrifying persona. We aren’t dealing with the son of a gangster here. Just a rich prick who raised a rich prick pedophile.”
The screwdriver grated on the metal table as I picked it up, dragging the metal tip, drawing out the sound. His mewling sounds ceased when he saw the tool in my hand.
“What are you gonna do?” he asked. His feet were almost totally obscured by the blood pouring from the wounds in his legs, pools forming around his toes.
“I’m gonna make sure you remember exactly why you’re here.”
Drake had tied Judah up naked; the scrawny man looked nearly as gaunt as a skeleton. Not from lack of food as my body had been for so many years. It was just the way the piece of shit was built. His pathetic cock lay shriveled in his lap next to his balls. My days of being squeamish were gone, and when I reached down and grasped his cold and contracted member, I didn’t bat an eye.
Judah’s eyes went wider than ever. “What are you doing? Let me go,” he yelped, doing his best to try and thrash away from me, but Drake had bound him well. He couldn’t move an inch.
His breathing turned into ragged and panicked gasps as I laid the tip of the screwdriver at the entrance to his urethra.
“No, no, no, no…” A single word repeated over and over.
“You know what comes next,” I whispered.
Before he could react, I slid the tip into him. Sliding into his body, down the full length of his cock. He threw his head back, heedless of the other injuries, and howled like a maniac. The screwdriver slid in easily, then met a bit of resistance, something deep inside. The prostate? The bladder? I wasn’t really sure about anatomy. Regardless, I pressed harder, grinning when I felt a gentle pop as it punctured whatever was in there.
Judah could no longer howl. Instead, a gasping, rasping sound barked out of his throat, like he was choking a dog. Finished, I yanked the screwdriver out, a stream of blood, like red piss, squirted from the tip and joined the puddle on the floor. Judah convulsed, shock finally setting in. Honestly, I was surprised it had taken so long. He was almost gone, but I needed something first. I had an idea, and the mere thought of it nearly had my pussy dripping.
Walking around behind Judah, I pulled my shirt over my head. “Fuck me, Drake. Fuck me from behind while he dies.”
Drake’s eyes glowed with a fiery intensity that let me know I’d returned the favor. I was giving him a gift now. He strode forward, unzipping his pants. He pulled his already throbbing hard dick out, and I turned away from him, wrapping my shirt around Judah’s neck. I twisted the fabric, tightening it, as Drake pulled my jeans and panties down. The cool air of the warehouse whispered against the heat pulsing from between my legs.
I tugged the shirt even tighter, pulling Judah’s head back so I could see his face. Some coherence had returned to his eyes. His face was pasty pale from blood loss, but I was happy to see that he still had enough awareness to be afraid. Drake’s hands clasped my hips and pulled me toward him. My hands tightened around the shirt as all of his cock slid into me. A moan escaped my lips as he began slamming into my body.
Judah gagged, and gasped for breath as I choked the life out of him. The sight of the blood and the horror in his eyes only inflamed my desire.
“Harder, Drake,” I breathed. “Fuck me hard.”
He grunted and crashed into me harder and faster. With one hand, he reached around me, sliding his fingers across my clit, and still I gazed into Judah’s eyes, waiting for what I knew was coming.
“Die, you little fuck.” I groaned, feeling my climax building, getting close.
Drake’s free hand slipped up my stomach, grabbing my nipple, twisting it hard, hard enough to draw a gasp from my lips. Still, he thrust into me, every inch of him, deeper with each movement until it was like the two of us had become one.
Judah’s eyes widened further, and the gasps stopped. No sound, only his lips opening and closing like a fish taken out of the water.
“I’m gonna come,” Drake moaned, resting his forehead on my shoulder.
Judah’s eyes, with a single final flicker of terror, went blank as death ripped him from the world. Watching him die, being the last person to see the light flicker before death, sent a wave of pleasure over me. A strangely sexual sensation jolted through me.
“Oh, fuck,” I hissed. My own orgasm crashing across me.
Wave after wave swept through my body, as Drake grunted his own climax. Shoving my hips back toward him, I released the shirt, steadying myself on the chair back, unable to take my eyes off the body. His cock twitched and spasmed inside me, his thrusts growing slower. My skin tingled and sweat coated me as he at last pulled himself free. I used my shirt to wipe myself clean and tossed it onto Judah’s dead, sightless eyes, pulling my pants up after.
I tilted his head forward, and it sagged onto his chest. “Good riddance.”