Chapter 39
Saint
monsters - shinedown
It’s been hours, and I can still hear Indie’s screams in my ears.
I don’t think I’ll ever unhear that, just like I can’t unsee what he fucking did to her.
Every bit of her pain comes from the same fucking rat.
Chains rattling has the flame to my fuse snuffed as the man before me shifts in his new throne.
Wind whips wildly through the Pit’s basement as the air finds its way down to the depths of the cells.
I lean against the bars of his open cell door, silently and patiently waiting for him to come to.
I’ve only just managed to get Indie to sleep, although the exhaustion and heartbreak likely won against her defiance to stay awake.
I’ve got Regina and Jenna in my bed with her, left the three of them curled up together whilst I come down and give this piece of shit a warm welcome.
Indie insisted on being here, but her emotions are too high; they’re practically all over the fucking place. I don’t want her to make any rash decisions.
I want her to let them simmer, get a clear head on exactly how she’s going to take this fuck’s life. She’s got one chance, no space for regrets. I want her to make it fucking glorious.
My back straightens as Conrad’s head rolls backwards, his unswollen eye blinking open into the faint light of the ceiling.
He can’t see me, I’m standing where the light doesn’t touch, but he knows I’m here.
The evil rolling off my presence could be felt across the entire globe.
The chains yank against the wooden podium his outstretched arms are connected to, panic soaring in his eyes as he darts his frantic gaze off every inch of the cell.
I’ve been watching him since the moment he got thrown in the chair, wanting to make sure whatever shit he had in his system cleared before I had my way with him.
Unfortunately, it won’t be the kind of alone time I’m really after. Rex needs his turn after me. Jenna too, if she’s up for it.
His bloody nostrils flare, charry gaze following the smoke coming from my cigarette, and every one of his muscles tenses.
I emerge from the shadows, my boots thundering as I make my way closer. “Welcome to hell, Conrad. You’re about to feel the wrath of a man who’s waited a long six years to get his hands on you.” I flick the still lit cigarette at him.
He morphs into a wild animal, using up his strength as his arms yank wildly, bucking in the seat, yet not getting far. I’ve got him stripped down into his briefs, his ankles chained to the metal chair that’s bolted to the floor. He can’t lift his ass with the belt I’ve had him locked into.
He can’t even expand his chest enough to take a panicked breath.
I step in closer, his hysterical breaths filling the room as his jaw wires together with pressure, staring up at me as I approach the wooden podium before him.
My evil knows no bounds for her, nor does the creativity. “Enjoying your stay so far?”
“Fuck you,” he grits, fighting to hold my stare, darting it up to the ceiling when the intensity gets too much.
I knock on the wood with my fist. “Do you like what I had made for you? Been sitting here a while, waiting for your arrival. It’s a podium by the way, quite similar to the one Daddy Judge would sit at and hear people’s crimes.”
His throat bobs as his eyes flutter closed, snapping open when my voice hits a new depth. “I’m here to listen to yours.”
“You’ll get nothing from me.”
A laugh rumbles deep in my chest. I lean an elbow on the dark wooden surface before stabbing my knife into the top, the metal splitting through the wood as the crack fills the cell. “You will confess them all, Conrad. I’ll have you fucking chanting them like a hymn for me.”
His head vibrates as the panic takes over his body, giving away his true feelings that his face is trying so hard not to convey. “And just in case you’re not well rehearsed in religion. My favourite part is the deadly sins. Of course, I like to put my own spin on them.”
I go to speak again, but his scream pierces through my ears. “FUCK YOU! And your fucking whore!”
Metallic fills my mouth as I bite down on my tongue.
Not yet, Saint.
“You interrupt me again, it only prolongs my time with you. You insult my wife, I’ll have your balls shoved so far up inside you they’ll replace your fucking tonsils.”
“You’re fucking deranged.”
My laugh sends goosebumps over my own flesh. “Compliments won’t get you anywhere.”
I shove my hands in my pockets, pulling out the seven metal blades as I preach. “First up, we have pride. Well, I practice that every day. You get quite creative when you exhaust all the ways to kill a man. I’m quite proud of how many new ways I discover.”
He watches as I place the razor down in front of me, repeating it with the next. “Greed. I’m going to spend every breathing minute with you, and I can’t wait to hear your cries for mercy spill through these cells.”
I place it down, watching as his eyes have widened so much, his swollen one has managed to open. “Lust. Mine’s for blood, for my soon-to-be wife. A woman you thought you could turn into a victim, but in the end it’s her that decides how long you live.”
The razor pinches between my fingers, and I let it clatter against the metal, the facade he’s managed to keep up breaking as he yanks on the restraints. “Envy. I’m jealous that it’s Indie that gets to cease your existence. Or maybe it’ll be Jenna. Fuck, maybe the two of them will fucking gut you.”
“You’re fucking crazy! LET ME OUT OF THIS FUCKING CHAIR!”
“Gluttony. I can get quite carried away with myself down here, so there’s that.” I shrug my shoulders as I place the razor down.
“Sloth…” My throat growls a hum, curling my lip as I stare down at the pathetic excuse of a human being trembling in his seat.
“That one’s on you, Conrad. My hunger for the hunt has never known fatigue.
You, however? You got too comfortable thinking no one would come for you, a perfect example of being lazy in power. ”
When I go to pinch the last razor, I hold it up into the light, rotating it as the metal winks against the light with the sharpness. “Wrath. That was already mentioned in our little introduction, wasn’t it? I prefer to show it, rather than tell.”
The fight picks up in him again as I scoop all the blades back up into my hand. “You’re fucking weak, Saint.”
My head throws back at his attempt at insult. “Go on then, Conrad. Entertain me for a minute.”
I stalk around the podium, scooping the razors up in my palms as I lean against its side.
Sweat trickles down his forehead, despite the coldness down here, his matted hair sticking to his forehead as he flashes me the smile I’m responsible for.
“Love makes you pathetic. You’ve given yourself a target on your back for a worthless piece of pussy.
My people will come for her. I’ll make sure of it. ”
Hold. It. Together. Saint.
There’s a roughness to my voice. “That’s where you’re wrong. The right woman by your side, you can conquer the world. Just look at what me and mine did to yours.”
He bares his teeth as I push off, seething violence he can’t inflict as his eyes glass over with every step I lazily take towards him. “That’s it, Conrad. Cry for me. I fucking love it when they cry.”
“Fuck you! Fuck you! FUCK Y—”
I grab his jaw, yanking him forward as much as his restraints will allow. I pry open his mouth, shoving the blades in and pulling the leather dangling from his seat to cuff the gag in place.
His eyes go savage as he thrashes.
It won’t kill him, not unless he swallows any. I’ve got my medics and Kyle on standby in case I get carried away. His mouth though? Yeah, that’s going to hurt like a bitch when I next let him speak.
A tear finally rolls down his cheek as his shoulders convulse, and I eventually undo the gag and smack his back so hard the blades tumble from his mouth, blood and drool dripping down onto his bare chest.
“P-Please,” he finally slurs, and aggravation rolls through me. I didn’t think it would be hard, not many people survive my mind games, but this was too fucking easy. I wanted more.
My hand dips into my back pocket. I have so many sharp objects on me that I’d have a metal detector needing its wiring redone.
I flick the switchblade up with my thumb, an unreliable noise coming from the trembling, pathetic excuse of a man before me. “Let’s hear you sing some confessions for me.”