She stepped back for a moment, surveying her handiwork with satisfaction. The sight of Jack’s torn body, his fear laid bare, brought a vicious smile to her lips. It was a triumph she hadn’t thought possible, but there it was—a reflection of regained power, her own spirit no longer shackled by his actions.
Ignoring his pleas for mercy, she walked to the table, surveying the tools one last time. But this time, it was not just the implements of pain that caught her eye. No, she found something more sinister—a pair of pliers. A slow, wicked grin spread across her face as she turned back to him. Jack's breaths were wild now, darting around as if searching for an escape that didn’t exist.
“Please, Scarlett…” he whimpered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you…I just wanted power. I was stupid—please don’t do this.”
Scarlett chuckled lightly, the sound dark and dissonant. “Oh, ‘stupid’ doesn’t even begin to describe you,” she replied, her voice low and menacing. “But don’t worry, you’ll have time to contemplate your mistakes now.”
As she stepped toward him, she raised the pliers, the glint of the metal catching the dim light and casting reflections of madness across the walls. Jack’s breath quickened, and he squirmed against his restraints in a futile attempt to prepare himself for what was to come.
“Let’s start with something simple,” she said, leaning in closer. “Let’s see how you feel losing something that was never truly yours to begin with.”
With surgical precision, she gripped the pliers and seized his pinky toe, squeezing tightly until the sudden pain had him writhing against the hooks holding him in place. She pulled, twisting the pliers, and a sharp scream tore from his throat, echoing walls and filling the air with bitter fear.
“Is this what you wanted?” she taunted, her face brilliant with passion and vindication. “To break someone so completely? To make them suffer? Now, it’s your turn.”
The pliers snapped, and the sickening sound of breaking bone reverberated, and Scarlett’s laughter turned wild, chaotic. She twisted and broke each toe, then violently ripped out each fingernail, but she wasn't done. Each scream only fueled her zeal—a twisted dance of retribution and satisfaction that filled the room like a fine wine. She felt in control, and I couldn't take my eyes off her, mesmerized by her transformation.
The guys behind me shifted uncomfortably—some seemed pale, reflecting the horror unfolding. Jax clenched his fists, a mix of protectiveness and disgust warring within him. But through it all, it was clear none of us knew how far this would go. Scarlett was lost in her rage, transformed into a vengeful spirit, and I knew I had to step in. I took a deep breath, ready to intervene, edging forward, but her voice suddenly stopped me.
“Not yet,” she warned, eyes blazing as she turned to lock onto me with a fierceness that sent a jolt through my body. “This is my fight, my retribution. I have to finish it.”
I nodded despite my reservations, stepping back but keeping my senses sharp. I couldn’t take away this moment from her, her quest for closure—it was vital for her healing.
The rawness of her fury surged, and she dropped the pliers, her face contorting into a mask of righteous anger. She grabbedthe machete and walked back over to him to end it. Jack’s face was twisted in agony now, his cries muted but still potent, and for a brief moment, I caught the glimmer of regret swimming in Scarlett’s eyes. But it vanished, and in its place bloomed a terrifying resolve. With a frenzied clash, she lunged, swinging the machete toward his knee and completely severing his leg in half.
And there it was—her defiance, powerful and unapologetic. The lines of morality were blurred in this violent dance, and I could see the freedom she was finding within the chaos. Maybe it was something I could never understand, her pain driving her to confront her demons in the most visceral way possible.
Jack’s body went limp, blood rushing from where the blade had met flesh in a frenzy of violence, blood streaming down his face from previous cuts. In that moment, the horror of what was unfolding became evident to all of us. The massive toll this would take on Scarlett's psyche lay in the shadows—the repercussions would haunt her. But the hunger for justice was only growing inside her, and I realized this would not end until she had truly carved a path forward—a path shrouded in blood and vengeance.
“Just one more,” she whispered, looking almost euphoric, and I knew then there was no stopping her. She was going to see this through to the end, and as sickening as it was, I couldn’t blame her; I could only bear witness.
Bracing myself for what was to come, I felt the weight of this moment encompass us all, knowing it would forever change our lives—and my heart bled for her, a warrior in a battle for her soul, but one must wonder what would be left of her once the dust settled. And as she raised the machete with two hands, we collectively held our breath as she swung against his throat, decapitating him. His head rolled across the bloody floor as a sigh escaped Scarlett. She dropped the machete and walked outof the room without saying anything, and we were left to clean up the mess and make all evidence of a crime impossible to find. And of course, we did it all willingly.
20
Halloween
Scarlett
The smell of pumpkin pie and the crisp fall leaves blew threw the air outside the church as I sat on the steps and drank straight from the bottle of vodka I found. It wasn't my favorite but it did the trick, and today, I needed anything that would fuck me up as fast as possible. It was finally Halloween, and I spent the day visiting my father, and then the rest I spent alone, thinking about my life one year ago.
I was deeply lost in thought to notice the three masked men who appeared before me, shiny blades in their hands that hung down by their sides. I grinned and leaned back, taking another generous swig just as the rain began to softly sprinkle down on me.
Sucks for trick or treaters, I whispered to myself as I took my eyes off the men and glanced up at the sky, wondering if the guys were actually watching me or watching over me. I tried not to care but the memories and voices wouldn't leave me alone and I could feel myself begin to spiral with each sip of liquor I took.
"Get the fuck up, Bones," Hunter said, the three of them inching closer.
"Or what?" I fired back, enjoying the back and forth.
"Or I'll make you get up," Hunter replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Then fucking make me," I slurred, laughing as the three of them charged at me, their masks covering the expressions on their faces.
Michael yanked me to my feet and I swayed right into Kellin, suddenly noticing Jax wasn't there. I looked into Kellin's eyes and found myself quickly getting lost, and it took his hand squeezing my throat to bring me back to focus.
"Get on your knees, little monster," Michael ordered, snatching my wrist and pushing me to the soggy ground, my bare knees digging into the mud.
"You're going to be a good girl aren't you?" Hunter asked. "We're going to take turns fucking your. mouth, and you're going to relax and enjoy it."
