Chapter 26 #2
Carter holds down Elio’s upper body as I hit his legs over and over, until the wire is embedded so deeply into his flesh, there’s no way it can be removed. Laying the bloodied hammer aside, I pick up a finger cutter with glee.
“You got lucky with your fingers being reattached,” I remind Elio. “This will never get old for me.”
Carter shoves Elio’s meaty hand at me, while my uncle screams for mercy. If he’s looking for someone to come and give it to him, he’s going to be waiting a long time. My uncle is moving slower than usual, and I give him an evil grin as I shove his finger into the tool.
“Did you drink milk with your coffee this morning, dear uncle?” I ask.
“No,” he grumbles. “I’m cutting back on caffeine. What the fuck did you do to my food?”
Squeezing the tool, I watch as his finger drops to the ground. Elio begins breathing harder with panic, but doesn’t scream or yell. Maybe he’s learning I don’t care for his theatrics.
“I didn’t do a thing,” I grin, removing the tip of another finger. I’m going to make him watch me burn them all, along with his dick. “You simply appear ill.”
“If you didn’t drink the milk, then it’s not our fault,” Carter smirks.
“I had milk with my cereal two hours ago. I was hungry,” Elio growls.
“Then there you have it.”
Getting bored, I pull down Elio’s boxers and measure it to see if the finger cutter will work on it.
“No. No! You sick bitch, get away from me.”
“It’s just slightly too big,” I sigh, annoyed. Ciro crouches down beside me, returning from being upstairs, and hands me a nail and my trusty hammer. There are streaks of blood on his gloves, telling me things got a little interesting in the bedrooms.
There’s blood lust in his eyes, and I’m glad for the double layered panties I’m wearing. I get aroused while murdering people, and I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable if I perfume.
“This will work.” I hold eye contact with Ciro as I say the words, and he presses down on Elio’s pelvis to keep him still while Grant joins us to hold down his legs.
“Everyone is dead outside of your uncle in this room, and the guards are still being dispatched,” he tells me. “I’ll keep an eye out while you do your thing.”
Grant is giving me permission to lose control of my emotions if I need to. Elio is one of the boogeymen who follows me into my nightmares. I never wake up from them, they simply chase me from one scenario to the next, and sometimes my uncle does rape me before pissing on my body.
It’s the ultimate form of degradation. Some omegas crave cum on their skin, but I’m not sure if this will ever be something I want. My family has ruined many things in my life, and a healthy sex life may be one of those things.
“Thank you,” I rasp, grabbing Elio’s dick.
“I can hold it down if you promise not to hammer my fingers,” Ciro says softly.
When I agree, he grabs Elio’s shaft at the base and begins to pump it to get it hard.
“This erection will be your last, asshole. Limp dicks are more difficult to torture. A little blood in it goes a long way toward making it easier to hammer a nail into.”
“Are you speaking from experience?” I ask, oddly enamored by his shrug.
“My brothers and I have had our fair share of teaching people the importance of respect. Now you’re going to teach your uncle a lesson in keeping his goddamned dick away from you.”
Elio has hardwood flooring in his home, and it appears elegant and beautiful.
“Can we burn his house down?” I ask, pressing the nail into Elio’s mushroom tip. He’s half hard now, and although sixty isn’t considered old, his cock certainly is feeling every one of those years.
“I have a flame thrower in the bag, a branding kit, and a grenade with a launcher. You can do whatever the fuck you want, Rosalia.”
“I really like that answer.” Adjusting my grip on the handle of the hammer, I bring it down on the nail.
It sinks into the wood, making me internally squeal with excitement, and my grin is wide as I continue to work.
“I honestly didn’t think it would be this easy.
I expected to miss the nail the first time. ”
“My fingers are glad you didn’t,” Ciro chuckles, making me shiver.
“It’s completely normal to get turned on during torture,” Carter says, amused.
“I’m trying to be discreet about it,” I hiss.
“Help!” Elio screams.
“Ugh, shut up,” Carter groans.
“My voice is still fucked from my screams,” I say, lost in my memories as I bring down the hammer over and over until my uncle’s cock is a part of the house. “Let him scream.”
“Rosalia! Rosalia, please. Look, I’m sorry! I’ll back you and help you take over for your father. Just stop!”
I’m unimpressed by Elio’s screams, and move on to begin burning the hair off his hairy legs. The guys release him, enjoying the way he writhes. His cock pulls on the nail every time he jerks his hips, causing his screams to grow louder and his coughing to get worse.
“Ah, uncle. You need to learn to stay still or I’ll have to use another nail further down your shaft,” I croon sarcastically. I chose to start high, knowing I was going to force him to jolt with pain.
The lighter in my hand gets warm, and Grant pulls out a torch with a grin.
“Ooh. That’s so much better. You really like your fire,” I say, trading with him.
Nico and Dario return to the living room, and Nico appears to be sweating. I can feel his anxiety, and I pat the ground next to me for him to sit. I’ve been lost in my own pain and memories, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been feeling his growing discomfort.
“Thank you. All the rooms are clear upstairs,” he whispers. “Ah, except the attic. I couldn’t bear to be away from you anymore.”
“He needed help with the stairs. I’ll go check it now,” Dario says, turning to head back up.
“I’ll go with you,” Carter says. “I doubt we’ll find anything, but you never know.”
As they disappear upstairs, I tug off one of Nico’s gloves and pull the back of my shirt out so he can lay it on my skin. He slowly begins to relax, watching as I burn the hair off Elio’s legs.
“Go for his knot,” he whispers in my ear, the Devil on my shoulder it would seem. “Then we can start all over again with the nails.”
“Wonderful idea, husband.”
I shove the torch’s flames underneath Elio’s wrinkled knot, enjoying every second of his misery as he completely tears the crown of his dick from his struggles.
“Oh no, guess I need to nail the middle down now,” I grin.
Ten minutes later, he’s missing more fingers, his asshole is scorched from the torch, and I’m ready to start tenderizing the rest of his body.
“How do you feel about nailing his hands and feet to the ground?” Ciro asks. “Then you can use the fancy flamethrower to finish him off.”
Not once has he winced or gagged. He and Nico just offer quiet support and suggestions. It’s yet another reminder that we’re all pretty fucked up.
“The attic is secured, and Easton says no one has called the police yet. He’s listening to dispatch while he works outside,” Grant explains as his heavy boots hit the steps. “What’s next?”
“We’re nailing down body parts,” Carter grins. “Mind if we help out with this, Rosa?”
“Not at all.” I’m starting to feel dizzy from the amount of adrenaline and emotions coursing through my veins. Nico sits me firmly in his lap, his lips pressed against my neck as we watch the guys nail my uncle to the floor.
They choose to drive nails through his feet and wrists, and Elio begins to finally lose his voice.
“Is it wrong that I want to brand him as a rapist so the words follow him into the afterlife?” I ask softly, my eyes on the brand on the ground.
“Labels are powerful,” Nico murmurs.
“How does the brand work?” Dario asks, fixing his glasses. There’s a drop of blood obscuring his vision and I pull off my bloody gloves and reach for them. Taking them off, he grimaces as he sees what I did and hands me his glasses to clean.
“It’s wireless,” Grant explains. “I click it on after I arrange the letters the way I want, and then you can burn them wherever you want. I bought it online. It’s meant for wood burning, but works in a pinch for flesh as well.”
“I want to do it,” I confess, checking Dario’s glasses for any hint of blood before handing it back to him. Nico helps me put my gloves on, glancing at the bits of fingers on the ground.
“He passed out, Rosa,” Grant mutters, starting to put together the branding kit. “Stabbing or fire will help him wake up.”
Since stabbing the bastard is sure to be a good time, I pick up my discarded knife and dig it into Elio’s hip. I make sure to rock it back and forth for maximum effect, singing, “Wakey, wakey, hands off snakey!”
“Fuck you!” he yells. “Leave me alone!”
His alpha bark attempts to roll over me while Ciro punches my uncle in the face for his audacity, and I feel…nothing.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” I ask cheerfully. Well, I pretend to be cheerful because all I can hear is the blood roaring in my ears from the remembered terror of my father’s alpha bark. My hand shakes as I pull my knife out only to stab him again.
My eyes flutter as I force myself to breathe. I cannot have a panic attack while killing my uncle. Absolutely not.
“Alpha barks don’t seem to have the same effect as they once did,” Dario grunts, idly picking up some pliers and beginning to tear off Elio’s toe nails. “All the same, it’s disrespectful as fuck to use it against her. At least have the courage to die with some self respect.”
“The drugs were supposed to keep you pliant. Renzo promised he could keep his monster contained!”
“Do I look contained, or demure?” I ask, scoffing as I stab the fucker again to get my bearings. Nico squeezes my hand, taking my knife as he kisses my temple.
“A monster’s ability to serve its master ends when she slips her leash,” he says conversationally, digging the knife into Elio’s thigh. He does it in between the wire accents to his skin, watching as the blood runs down it.
Nico sends understanding and adoration through the bond, and I take a deep, shaky breath at how he sees me.