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“Please no, please no, please no.” He whimpered, begging.
“Did those kids you fucked beg?” I asked, not even trying to hide my disdain.
“They…they…I didn’t hurt them,” he finally managed. “It was just sex, for fuck’s sake,” he shouted.
“Oh.” I nodded. “Well, if it was just sex, then no big deal, right? Not like they won’t carry the fucking scar of what you did to them the rest of their lives, right?”
“My dad will pay you,” he said, new and fervent hope in his eyes. “He’ll pay you so much, just let me go.” Snot hung off his nose, and tears glistened on his cheeks.
I shook my head, giving him my best fake sad face. “Judah, this is the day you learn that money can no longer buy you out of trouble.”
Before he could respond, I reached forward, placed the cutters on the soft spot below his kneecap, and squeezed the handles closed. The blades worked perfectly, tucking into the flesh, sliding in and behind the patella tendon, and with a sound like scissors through wet pasta, the tendon sliced in two. Blood pulsed from the wound, and I could see the yellow white of the tendon, along with the meaty gristle around the knee.
Judah’s eyes went wide, jaw hanging open, a gagging gasping sound issuing from his mouth, like he’d fallen and had the breath knocked out of him and couldn’t catch it. Finally, as the blood pooled at his feet, a scream burst from his lungs, guttural and shocked, laden with agony and surprise.
He leaned forward vomiting on his own lap. I jumped back in surprise before the puke could splatter my shoes.
“Fucking gross,” I muttered.
Judah sat, vomit hanging from his lips in strings, staring at his ruined knee. Drake appeared a moment later, dragging over an old hose with a sprayer attachment. He pressed the trigger, and hosed the man off, making sure to angle the stream right at the knee wound at one point. Judah howled in pain again, but that devolved into watery choking sounds as Drake blasted his face with the hose. Once the man was again clean, Drake turned the hose off and smiled at me.
“I don’t want you getting messy,” he said with a shrug.
“You’re so considerate, Drake. Thank you.”
“You’re crazy,” Judah moaned. “You’re both crazy.”
“We’re crazy?” I asked with a bitter smile. “We aren’t the ones who fuck children. We aren’t the ones who ruined innocent lives. That’s you. All I’m doing is giving those children the vengeance they couldn’t have.”
Images of my own childhood flashed through my mind. Man after man stripping me naked, and brutalizing my young body. Slapping, pinching, and biting me as they thrust their filthy cocks into every orifice I had. For years, I’d daydreamed about a time when I’d be strong enough to make them pay. Now, thanks to Drake, I did have that strength.
“Did you ever like to dance, Judah?” I asked.
“Huh?” he said, looking at me with pain-dulled eyes.
Without answering, I knelt on the wet ground, placed the cutters on his left Achilles, squeezed the handles together, and watched with pleasure as that tendon parted, the calf muscle rolling up toward the back of his knee like a shutter being drawn. The man jerked, spasming in torment, trying to pull his leg away, but the binds kept him in place.
“If you did like to dance, you never will again,” I said, suppressing a slight giggle.
I snapped the other Achilles as well, then tossed the tool aside. Bored of it. Judah alternated between crying, screaming, and dry heaving, while I walked back to the table and picked up the hammer.
“You are so fucking hot,” Drake said from the shadows. “A magnificent creature. My very own Lady Death.”
With a flick of my wrist, I brought the hammer head down on Judah’s collarbone. Not hard enough to break skin, just enough to burst the bone beneath. More screams, more begging, more tears. Drake held eye contact with me as I broke the second collarbone. There’d never been a time in my life when I’d been so horny. All I could think of was having Drake, but there was still some work to do.
“Have you started to see the error of your ways yet?” I asked, leaning down to get a look at Judah’s eyes.
The man’s chest was swelling like crazy, and beneath the skin, I could see the malformed bones. Soon they would vanish beneath the swollen flesh. The hammer slid from my fingers, clattering to the floor.
“You fucking bitch,” Jonah sobbed. “You fucking bitch. Do you know who my father is?”
“He manages a hedge fund,” Drake said. “Far from a terrifying persona. We aren’t dealing with the son of a gangster here. Just a rich prick who raised a rich prick pedophile.”
The screwdriver grated on the metal table as I picked it up, dragging the metal tip, drawing out the sound. His mewling sounds ceased when he saw the tool in my hand.
“What are you gonna do?” he asked. His feet were almost totally obscured by the blood pouring from the wounds in his legs, pools forming around his toes.
“I’m gonna make sure you remember exactly why you’re here.”
