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“Fuck you. Demonic pieces
of shit,” he rasped.
“Ouch,” Ice laughed.
“Insults aren’t necessary, Kev,” I reprimanded, giving him another swing.
I detected the telltale sign of skin splitting apart. He yowled this time, his arms flailing to get himself down.
“That’s bewitching,” Cam said, watching as the back of Kevin’s uniform became even more saturated with blood, turning the entire thing a deep maroon color.
“Every time you struggle, you make this worse. Tell me where I can find Amo, and I’ll get you down. Don’t bullshit me either. We all know he isn’t dead.”
“You’re going to kill me anyway.” He coughed, heaving and trying to catch his breath.
“I’m not going to kill anyone, not tonight. Are you guys planning to kill someone?”
“I’m not aware of any murderous mischief,” Ice replied.
“I’d have killed him already,” Cam shrugged, continuing to polish the blade in his hand.
“See? Now, I’m feeling good tonight, so I’ll count down from five and give you a chance to tell me what it is I want to know. Five…three…on—”
“Stags,” he damn near yelled. “Amo is a Stag.”
“Damn, that fits your theory perfectly,” Ice said, moving closer to our board.
“Addy was actually the one who brought it to my attention. That’s why they left so fast. They had a lead.”
“How did that come about?” Cam wondered out loud.
“You already knew?” Kevin accused.
“The fuck do you think?”
I grabbed hold of his shirt and jerked, pulling him off the hook.
The spliced end tore through his back, leaving ribbons of flesh and fabric behind. He screamed, continuing to do so as I carelessly dropped him to the ground.
“I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up.” I lifted my boot and pressed it down over his mouth, squishing his cheek. “You done?” I asked after a minute.
He nodded as best he could, and I removed my shoe.
“They’ll rip you apart boy, just wait.”
“Do you know how pointless it is to talk shit when you’re about to die? Do you somehow feel better now that you got that off your chest?” I turned to Cam, who already had what I needed in hand.
I took the chain from him and began to wrap it around Kevin’s body, flipping him when necessary.
“You said you wouldn’t kill me.”
“I’m not killing you. I’m simply helping you to an untimely death.”
I tested to make sure the bindings were secure, then hoisted Kevin up, hitching the round metal hoop over the end of the bloodied meat hook.
The chain cinched, metal digging into the raw, open wounds on Kevin’s back. I withdrew my buck blade and made quick work of him. Keeping my word not to kill his ass, I made a few deep cuts that ensured he would bleed out eventually.
I wanted it to happen slowly. His adrenaline and noradrenaline levels had to rise, and his heart would start to work overtime in a failed effort to save him. It was one thing to kill and end it quickly, another entirely to make someone feel their life slipping away.
