Bhodi⛓
A shadow passes the doorway of the isolated warehouse. Sliding on my leather gloves, I don’t bother looking to the person standing a few feet away. As the material slides over my skin, I flex my fingers, stretching the fabric. I don’t want a fucking audience; I just want answers. I know Alex will sing like a fucking canary. Pieces of shit always think they’ll get away with their underhand actions unscathed, but this time he won’t.
“I’ll do this alone.” I say, moving from the old, abandoned workshop and into the main area. The only noises around are the slow dripping from a nearby pipe and Alex’s pathetic whimpering as he sits bound to a chair in the center. Rolling my eyes, I slowly approach, watching with amusement as his head darts all around, trying to locate the source of the footsteps.
“Please, I didn’t do anything…. you have the wrong person!” His snivelling pleas of innocence echoing off the walls.
Without hesitation, I backhand him hard enough that he falls, falling to his side with a thud as he continues.
“Please, I’ll tell you anything.”
I smirk again, pulling the chair upright and ripping off the blindfold. Crouching down, I study his face for a moment as he looks at me, his eyes widening in fear.
“Who…Who the fuck are you?” He stutters as the sweat forms on his brow.
“I want to know why you called Harry Maine today?” I ask calmly.
His chest heaves and his eyes wander to the bench a few feet away filled with tools. As his eyes land on a large meat cleaver, his fearful gaze is snatched back to mine.
“Are you….Are…..Are you going to kill me?”
“Should I?”
Tears begin to fall, and his face contorts as the snot begins to pour from his nose. “He came to the bar the other day. He said he’d pay anyone five grand if Summer came by. All we had to do was keep her there long enough for someone to come and pick her up…. but I swear I had no idea why.”
Gripping his chin tight, I lean in close, spitting venom as his lies pour out.
“You had no fucking idea? Are you that fucking thick, you didn’t think maybe he was a dangerous man? Seeing as her fucking father was just murdered?” Shoving him away, the snivelling continues.
“I didn’t know he was going to hurt that cop!”
“How’d you know he was a cop?”
“Harry was talking about it when I asked him for my money.”
“So, you even went after him for payment, even though you didn’t fulfil your end of the deal?” I ask sarcastically. “You really are a special kind of thick cunt aren’t you?” Cocking my fist back, I land one right on his jaw, causing the chair to fly back.
Before he can react, I pull the chair back up and continue the assault over and over. Once the blood begins to slide down his cheek and his eye bulges, I momentarily step away. Moving to the workbench filled with tools, I glance over the array of steel and blades. Allowing my fingers to glide over each item, I find my hand landing on a pair of secateurs. Lifting them into the light, I study the item as my lips curl into a half smile.
“Oh god…NO! PLEASE…..FUUUUCK!”
Turning back to Alex, I shake my head. Throwing my hands in the air, I can’t help but laugh.
“No one can fucking hear you, why else would you be here?”
As his eyes drop to the floor, he finally spots all the dried, smeared blood that’s soaked into the concrete over time. I watch with joy as the cogs turn in his tiny incompetent brain, piecing it all together.
Moving back towards him, I look into his eyes. He sits like a rabbit in the headlights, and as I reach for his hand, he tries to fight me, but there’s no point. As I manage to get the first finger between the blades, I halt for a moment, holding his gaze before squeezing tight. The crunching of bone pierces my ears, followed by a satisfying shriek of agony.
“Next time, when you try and make a quick buck, don’t hitch your wagon to a cunt like Harry Maine, do you understand?” I lean in, almost whispering in his ear as his entire body convulses in pain.
He nods through the pain, squeezing his eyes shut as the sweat and blood pours from his body.
“Right, so we’ll try this again.”
His eyes snap to mine once again.
“Wait…What?” The panic spreads across his face, but I squeeze hard on the second finger before he can register. This time, vomit sprays from his mouth, spattering on the floor as I take a step back.
“Now, what did we learn today, Alex?”
His shrieks of pain continue to echo as his garbled words begin to morph into incoherent shit.
“If you can’t remember, we’ll only have to do this again.” I warn him.
“Don’t trust Harry Maine.” He cries out.
Cocking my head to one side, I shake my head.
“No, no, no, you see, I said, ‘Next time, when you try and make a quick buck, don’t hitch your wagon to a cunt like Harry Maine’, you’re not very good at this, Alex, and you only have eight fingers left.”
“NO…NO…. NOOOOOO!!!!!!” As the third finger lands on the cold concrete floor, followed by more vomit and other bodily fluids, I shake my head in disapproval.
“I think you need a break. You clearly really have a bad fucking memory” Pushing myself back up, I move back to the workbench, drowning out the retching and sobs coming from behind me.
“She’s just some dumb fucking slut! Let him have her!” he spits out. Clearly, adrenaline is beginning to kick in for him.
Turning on my heels, I stalk over. Leaning forward, I quietly ask. “What was that?”
“If he wants her so fucking bad, let him have the dumb slut! She fucking ..” Before he can finish the sentence, I drive the butcher knife into his throat. His eyes go wide, and his entire body shakes as he struggles for breath. Pushing the knife in further with great force, I feel the blade cutting further through his flesh and windpipe. Studying the sight before me as the life begins to drain from his eyes, I lean in close.
“I didn’t ask for your fucking advice.”
Slowly pulling the blade out, I watch with intent as his face changes from red to purple, blood pooling down his shirt as his pathetic attempts for breath continues. Shaking off the blade, the thick crimson liquid spatters along the floor, and I wait patiently while the warehouse returns to its previous silence.
After a moment, I toss the knife back down onto the bench. Throwing the gloves into the metal drum nearby, I slide my phone from my back pocket. Pushing open the heavy doors, I take in the night sky as the phone rises to my ear.
“Yeah, I’m done.” Before hanging up.