Chapter 8 #2
I turn to face my wife who’s been nothing but a swinging piece of meat for the past however many hours.
“You seem to forget, sweetheart, that your thoughts and feelings on this matter mean nothing to me. You’re nothing but a used up cunt.
” My words are like blades but I simply can’t find it in me to care.
Turning on my heel to face Emily again, I yank her up by her hair and slip a pair of handcuffs out of my trouser pocket and quickly clamp them around her wrists before dragging her to another hook that’s hanging from the ceiling.
Blood trails behind her in a thin line from her sliced ankle as I hang the cuffs onto the hook, leaving her to swing aimlessly next to my wife.
It’s beginning to resemble a fucking meat freezer in here.
Emily cries and whimpers, and my lovely wife tries to calm her down. “Hey, look at me Emily. Everything’s going to be fine.” I watch the interaction between them, knowing full well that none of this is going to be fine, and that my wife is a bare faced liar.
“Don’t bullshit her, Annabelle.” I quip, then stride over to the corner of the basement where a metal table sits alone, the surface covered in various items. Grabbing a hold of the table, I drag it across the concrete floor, causing the metal legs to screech.
Both Annabelle and Emily snap their heads in my direction and immediately, Emily begins to throw herself around in the handcuffs.
“Please.. please, don’t do this to us!” She pleads.
“Shut the fuck up!” I bite back and she snaps her mouth closed.
Wouldn’t it be an absolute fucking dream if all women listened just as good as Emily does, too bad that I no longer want her around.
The buyers don’t want her and her brother was a fucking let down for my business so she’s of no use to me anymore. A waste of space.
“Ricky. Let her go, you piece of shit.” Annabelle bites out like a vicious dog and I pause, my hands gripping the metal table, causing it to creak under the pressure.
“Let her go?” I say over my shoulder. “And why would I do that?”
“She doesn’t deserve this, use me instead.” My wife pleads but what she doesn’t realise is that her words are empty, and there’s no soul in this body that has ever carried an ounce of remorse for its actions. No one ever gets to tell me what to do, and that includes my fucking wife.
I roam my eyes over the array of items that sit on top of the table.
Knives of various sizes sit together in a uniformed line, next to them is a car battery and jump leads.
Moving further along, there’s a pair of knuckle dusters, a nail gun and a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire.
Each item has my heart thumping in my chest like a battering ram, adrenaline fires through my bloodstream.
I fucking need this, I thrive in it. I can already smell the fear that’s radiating off both of the women, frightened of what I’m about to do and they should be. I’m not one to be fucked with, ever.
Grabbing the brass knuckle dusters, I slip them onto my fingers, feeling the metal bite against my skin as I flex my hand. They feel light, but weighty enough to do some damage.
I turn on my heels to face Emily and Annabelle, within an instant their eyes lock onto the brass that adorns my hand, their fear so potent as it radiates from their pores. Annabelle’s gaze burns into me as she watches me take steps towards Emily.
“Don’t do this.” She says between gritted teeth, her face still caked in dried blood from her cracked nose.
Emily begins to cry harder now as I step into her personal space and bring the brass knuckles to her face, gently dragging the cold metal down her cheek with a fake intimacy.
Fat tears spill over her lower eyelids and I can feel her whole body vibrate with distress.
“You’re so pretty when you cry.” I say with a smirk, then before she’s even had a chance to fucking breath I rear my hand back and crack the brass knuckles across the side of her face, feeling her blood splatter across my face.
Emily’s eyes widen before an ear piercing cry breaks free from her lips and Annabelle begs for me to stop.
“Stop this! I’m right here! Don’t do this to her!”
I turn to look at her with a malicious grin across my face before landing another blow across Emily’s face, this time across her nose.
The audible crack of bones has me groaning with pleasure and I can’t stop the temptation to taste Emily’s blood that runs down her face from her split skin.
She cries and wails as I run my tongue up the side of her face, then something pulls at my sick mind, some forbidden allurement that has me dipping the tip of my tongue into the open wound on her cheek bone, the flesh warm and squishy against my taste buds.
Emily cries heavily from the probing of my tongue and Annabelle’s pleas in the background create a euphoric symphony in my ears, but I can’t stop.
I’ve never really tasted blood first hand like this, yeah it’s sprayed into my mouth a couple of times but this is with intent, it’s purposeful and I fucking love it.
I dig my tongue deeper into the slit until my teeth find the thin flaps of flesh like cuts of deli meat, the texture is chewy as I nibble on it, the taste of copper bursting in my mouth like a rare wine.
“Fucking stop!” Annabelle screams, and as I pull my face away from Emily’s, I yank the thin piece of skin away with me, leaving it dangling in between my teeth.
Emily screams in agony from having her skin torn away from her face, and immediately her eyes begin to roll to the back of her head from shock.
That simply won’t do. I need her awake for all of this.
I spit her skin into the floor then send the brass knuckles into her stomach, causing her to heave and writhe in pain from the heavy blow, all the while my wife is throwing her limp body around in an attempt to free herself to stop me, but she’ll never stop me.
“You’re fucking sick! Everything about you disgusts me.” She spits out, her ocean eyes burning with an anger that I’ve never seen before yet there’s no tears, not even a trace.
I step away from Emily who’s still dealing with the aftershocks of having brass knuckles fired into her abdomen by my fist, then I stand in front of Annabelle.
I look at her face, starting at her lips before landing on her blue eyes. “That’s funny. I didn’t disgust you when I had my fingers knuckle deep in your virgin cunt the first time we met. In fact, I remember you begging me for more.”
Her jaw ticks with fury. “And what a fucking mistake that was.”
“You really are a piece of work aren’t you. Let’s see if I can break those tears free.”
Sweat drips down my back, sticking the shirt to my heated skin.
Emily’s life hangs on by a thread from the onslaught of abuse I’ve thrown at her.
Her skin bleeds profusely from the gashes I’ve sliced across her body, the serrated blade on the knife bit into her skin like a wild animal, revealing chunks of flesh and yellow fat.
She put up a good fight against the electric shocks from the car battery, her body flopped around like a fish out of water every time the electric current fired through her nervous system.
But did my wife cry? No. She didn’t, but I’ve one last thing that I know will break her, that will have her begging and pleading.
“Emily, Emily? Look at me.” Annabelle begs, but Emily stays hanging limp from the ceiling, her head hanging low between her shoulders. “Emily please. Please stay with me.”
It’s cute really, to see this bond between them but, what? Who the fuck am I kidding? This bitch will die just like her brother did, and my precious wife will fucking cry for me.
“Ready for one last party trick?” I say with a sudden burst of energy.
“Fucking stop this, now. She can’t take it anymore!” Annabelle spits out, her eyes darting over to Emily who’s mumbling incoherent words.
“Don’t.. don’t beg for me Ana. I’ll be okay. I promise.” Emily whimpers as blood drips out of her mouth before landing on the floor, adding to the ever growing puddle.
“See! She said she’ll be fine. Lighten up sweetheart.”
Annabelle’s face pales as I wrap my hand around the baseball bat that’s covered in barbed wire. I swing it a couple of times before bringing it to my side. “We’re gonna play a little game of hit the pinata, only Emily here,” I nod towards her, “is gonna be our prized donkey.”
“I wonder if little sweet treats will fall out of her. I’ve always had a bit of a sweet tooth haven’t I, Annabelle?”
“I fucking hate you.” She rasps.
“And I love you too, sweetheart.”
The room falls silent, a heaviness wrapping around us as Annabelle speaks softly to Emily.
“I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.” Emily manages to lift her head and turns towards Annabelle, her brown eyes bursting with tears.
“No, this isn’t your fault at all, Annabelle.
Don’t you dare blame yourself for something you haven’t caused.
You’ve been the biggest light in this dark place, and I’ll cherish you forever. ”
How very emotional, it makes my skin crawl.
My eyes focus on Annabelle’s face to gauge her reaction. Her jaw ticks and tears begin to well in her eyes, maybe I’ve broken her before the party has started but she proves me wrong and swallows harshly.
“Don’t.. don’t say that, please. I’ll get us out of here, I swear.” My wife whispers, and I can feel my patience wearing thin. With frustration sizzling in my bloodstream, I tighten my grip around the handle of the bat and swing it straight into Emily’s stomach.
“No! No! Please!” Annabelle screams like a demonic creature but I simply continue to pull the bat out of Emily’s stomach before swinging it again, each time the barbed wire embeds itself into her skin, the bat tears it away every time I pull it out, quickly creating a hole in her stomach.