41. Ashmaker #2
"Bring him. It's time we had a little chat.
" I walk out of the room and listen as Xavier drags a waking Jacques with him.
We make it back to the kitchen, and I turn on the light above the sink, allowing the remainder of the room to remain shrouded in darkness.
Xavier kicks him hard, a sharp cry filling the air, before bringing over a chair for me to sit in.
I raise a questioning brow at him, but he just nods toward it with determination.
"WHAT THE FUCK! WHO ARE YOU!" Jacques' panicked brown eyes meet mine, drool slipping down the side of his mouth as he struggles against his bonds. Xavier's heavy-booted foot lands in the middle of his back, holding him still on the floor.
I play with my blade, twisting it between my gloved fingers, the sharp point glinting in the light, and catching Jacques' attention.
"Would you say you're a man or a monster, Jacques?
" I sit daintily in the chair, a smile sliding across my lips at the abject fear on Jacques' face.
God, that look, and the scent of dread permeating through the room, is intoxicating.
I wish I could bottle it up and have it always with me.
"ARE YOU CRAZY! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?"
His tone earns him a kick from Xavier, and tears race down his face as he groans in pain. "I do, in fact, know who you are, Jacques St. Clair." I lean forward until just a foot separates us, and I trail the point of the blade next to his eye.
"I HAVE MONEY! LOTS OF IT! I'LL GIVE YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT! JUST LET ME GO!"
A harsh laugh escapes me. They are all the same.
"I don't want your money, Jacques. I want your screams." I slice through his cheekbone like it was a juicy fillet of beef.
Blood rises to the surface instantly, coating his face, and trailing down his neck.
His screams send a delicious shiver racing down my spine.
I glimpse Xavier adjusting his hardening cock and wink at him.
Of course, blood and pain turn him on, I wouldn't expect any less.
"You see, Jacques, I'm here to redeem you from your sins, and end the suffering you've caused. "
I slice his other cheek to match, and have to force my hand away before I continue to carve pieces off of him, as he screams and writhes on the floor like a lowly worm. "Tell me, Jacques, how many young women have been raped, tortured, and taken their last breaths in this cottage?"
"You're crazy, bitch! I... have no idea... what you're talking about!" The term bitch doesn't offend me. I wear it gladly with pride, if it means lesser men like these get to die at my hands, but Xavier must take exception, cause Jacques gets a rough kick to the ribs.
"Call her that again, and I'll carve out your fucking tongue, you pathetic piece of shit!" Well, fuck, that protective aggression is sexy.
"How many are buried in the surrounding woods?
How many families are missing a daughter tonight, because you took her brutally from them?
" I bring the point of the blade to his wobbly, bloody chin, as tears slide down from the corners of his eyes.
"Your tears won't save you from my wrath, since they didn't save them from yours. "
"Who... are... you?!"
I consider his question carefully. Once I would have said I am vengeance, but it's so much more than that.
Vengeance can be soothed once it's received its justice.
I know now that nothing will ever do that for me.
It won't matter how many men I kill, or how many other women will be spared a fate worse than death at their hands.
It will never be enough to douse the vicious flame within me.
The monster that burrowed deep enjoys the burn too much.
"I am furious rage, punishment, and death for the sins you have committed against your victims."
"Please... no!"
"How many of them begged you, Jacques? Did you heed their cries?
Did it stop you from taking what they wouldn't give willingly?
" Xavier fists his hair, forcing his neck to bow, as I trail the blade down his throat.
"How many of them screamed for their lives, while you cut them to pieces, after robbing them of their dignity and spirit?
" I nick his neck, until I reach the soft spot where his collarbones and neck connect, leaving shallow cuts in my wake.
"Would she have screamed and begged if I wasn't here to save her? "
I meet Xavier's intense gaze and witness approval in his storm-filled eyes.
"Let's give him a taste of his own medicine, shall we?
He's not hurting enough yet." I rise from the chair and search through the cupboards and closet until I find what I'm looking for, all while hearing Jacques' whimpers, and pleading, from the kitchen as Xavier does my bidding, and I hear flesh striking flesh.
I drag the metal bat behind me as I return to the kitchen, to find a naked Jacques now flipped over on his back, his hands and feet still tied behind him.
"Do you know who the Erinyes were in Greek mythology?
" When he only wails in response, I trail the end of the bat up one of his hairy thighs, until it's positioned between his legs, and just below his disgusting, puny cock.
"They were terrifying and relentless deities, who hunted down those who escaped human justice, until they paid for their sins. "
I pull the bat back and slam it into his testicles, as he howls in pain and tries to fall sideways, but Xavier's hold on him keeps him exactly where I want him.
"Like you did, when that court found that there wasn't enough evidence to convict you the first time you hurt a woman.
That emboldened you to do it again and again, didn't it? "
I slam the bat down on one thigh, and then the other, as he shakes and screams. "You began to believe you were invincible.
You taught other men how to hurt women too.
" I bend down, grabbing his sweaty, bloody face, and forcing him to meet my gaze.
"Until you met an Erinyes. I'm here to serve you justice, Jacques St. Clair. "
I tighten my fingers, squeezing his rapidly swelling flesh. "How many women? I know that you know the number, Jacques. You're a planner, and you take trophies from them, don't you?"
"Please! Mercy!" Mercy, is this fucker kidding me?
What mercy did he show his victims? There will be no mercy granted.
I slam the bat against the side of his chest and hear ribs crack.
Xavier grits his teeth, but continues to hold him firmly.
If he disapproves of my methods, he's staying silent, and that makes him the smartest man I've ever encountered.
I swing the bat again, this time on his other side, and then slam the end into his stomach. "FUCK! KILL ME, JUST KILL ME!"
"HOW MANY WOMEN! HOW MANY LIVES DID YOU RUIN!
" My side aches with my exertion, but I refuse to give in to the weakness.
I drop the bat next to him, and grab my blade from the top of the counter.
There's a darkness inhabiting me, turning all my emotions off, until the only thing I can feel is the red-hot inferno of my rage.
I slice across his abdomen, blood weeping from the shallow wound.
"I will cut you into a thousand pieces, and flay your flesh from your bones, all while he keeps you alive. How. Fucking. Many."
Sobs cause his body to shake as I strike out again, this time cutting him much deeper.
The red ruby drops glisten on the surface of his hairy flesh, before drawing an abstract painting.
Still, he refuses to speak, to atone for his sins.
A wave of exhaustion blankets me. This will never end.
There will always be a Jacques hiding his sinister deeds in the shadows.
"Give me the blade, Spitfire." Xavier's deep voice breaks through my melancholy thoughts. My first reaction is to deny him, but as we stare at each other, something passes between us, and I release my hold.
He pushes Jacques down, his boot landing harshly on his stomach, as he bends over and presses the tip to the base of Jacques' cock.
"You were asked a question." When his only answer is ugly sobs, snot trailing down Jacques' face, he uses the sharp blade to slice open Jacques' nutsack like one does a ripe peach.
"I have all night, and your cock is next. "
"ELEVEN! ELEVEN! KILL ME! PLEASE KILL ME!"
Eleven women died at this monster's hands.
Eleven futures were taken and destroyed, just because he lusted after their bodies, and wanted to feel control over them.
Eleven souls who have screamed for justice, and cannot rest until I've delivered it.
"Did you listen when those women pleaded for death?
" Xavier questions, as he begins slicing at Jacques' cock with the precision of a high-end butcher, his gloves soaked in red.
Wretched moans are his response, and his finger yanks on the offending lump of flesh, as he continues to carve through the tissue and nerves. "Where are the trophies you kept of them?"
Jacques is going into shock, but we can't have that.
I want him awake so that he can answer our questions, and those women can finally have some peace.
I reach into my pants and pull out the syringe of Epinephrine, slipping the cover off and slamming it into his blood-drenched thigh.
His ragged gasp is music to my ears. "Confess your sins, Jacques.
Tell us what we want to know before you meet my father, the devil. "