Delilah only laughed, as she pulled her clothes back into place.
“You know for years I pictured what I would do to you if I ever got the chance. It was a miracle you lasted as long as you did. Truly. Do you even know how many times I was ready to smother your smug face with a pillow? Or considered poisoning your food? But that was too easy. You needed to suffer. You needed to pay for the hell you put me and everyone you’ve ever known through.”
She came over to me and grabbed my phone, flicking to the camera footage.
“If you liked the little show we put on for you, just wait until you see what we’ve done to the house you love so much.” She shoved the camera in his face, and he watched the screen, unable to move or look away. And then he saw it. The explosion. I could see the orange reflection of the flames dancing in his cruel eyes.
Tears ran down his cheeks and then I saw a splotch of what could only be urine, drenching his pants. I felt a sick sense of satisfaction seeing him so degraded after the hell he put us through. He cared more for that pile of bricks than he did human lives, filling it with meaningless trinkets that could easily have fed thousands of people in need. But John was all pompous talk and didn’t give a shit about helping others.
Delilah held the tip of one of her knives at the base of his throat, so he didn’t dare look away from the beautiful destruction we had caused.
“What do you say we tell him what we have planned for him, angel?” I asked, arms crossed over my chest. She was in her element, and I wanted her to have this moment. To draw it out or cut it short— however she saw fit.
Delilah beamed at me with a devious smirk, flipping the knife in her hands.
“Remember at Kingston? How you raped me and then blamed Cain for your crime? Well, I thought what better way to get back at you than to punish the appendage that started it all. What’s that biblical saying about cutting off the hand if it makes you sin? Well…” she raised the knife into the air and he watched horrified and she brought it straight down into his crotch with a sickening crunch that tore through his pants and left a large, gushing splotch of blood.
He screamed into the ball gag, and whatever Delilah saw in his face made her laugh. “Oh, John. Does that hurt?”
Her hand wound back up again and she stabbed him, this time in the gut. He heaved over and she cackled. “Don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon. Maybe big old sky daddy will take pity on such a humble servant like yourself.” She kicked him hard and he fell at an awkward angle on his tied-up hands. She stepped on his chest and ripped the ball gag off his face.
“You fucking bitch!” he screamed.
“Shhh. That’s not very pastor-ly of you, John.”
Then she bent down as he wheezed from the blood loss. He was really losing a lot of blood now, and his face was beginning to pale.
She undid his pants and found his still semi-hard dick ripe for the plucking.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” he yelled, but she was beyond listening to his commands anymore. She made her own decisions.
That’s when I saw her take out another knife. With both knives in hand, she slashed across in an ‘x’ figure, cutting him at the base with enough force that had his dick spraying blood all over her chest and face. She didn’t stop. Not through his screams and not when he passed out. She sawed it off then held it in her hand, looking at it like it was a cockroach.
“For such a small little thing, this sure caused so many problems,” she said, slapping him with it across his face. “Wake up, John. It’s time to die.”
His eyes went wide, and he gasped when she gripped him by the jaw, forcing his mouth open. He was far too weak and still tied up.There was no way he could fight her. Blood from his severed dick smeared all down his face and throat, staining his crisp white shirt as she pushed the tip of his own dick past his lips. John’s gag reflex kicked in, but she was stronger, shoving it all into his mouth and down his throat. She held his jaw there in place with a snarl on her lips.
“Fucking eat it, John,” she said through clenched teeth, blood running up the length of her arms. She was thoroughly drenched in it and would need a long hot shower once all this was done.
“Now be a good boy and swallow,” she said as he gagged around his own disgusting penis.
“This is for every time you raped me. Every time you beat me. For all the terror and trauma you put me and countless others through. It’s time to pay up for your sins, asshole,” she said, all controlled rage and seething hatred.
It didn’t take long for him to succumb to his injuries, and I would sleep well tonight knowing that he got the kind of end that was coming to him—with his own dick stuck in his throat.
CHAPTER 37
DELILAH
John’slifeless body laid in a puddle of blood, dick hanging out of his mouth looking like a stuffed pig. His corpse pushed it out, which surprised me. My hand sat by my side holding onto the knives that ended him, blood dripping off the tip. Red and blue lights illuminated the arched ceiling of the church.
Movies don’t prepare you for the sounds a dead body makes. Or the smells. The squelching that happens when you sink a knife into another human’s flesh. These felt like brand new facts that lived in my brain now.
“Delilah,” Cain said as I stared down at what I’d done. A surge of relief shot through me, but it was cut short by the siren’s wail echoing off the walls.
“Baby, please. We have to go.”
I blinked slowly. If the police were already outside, where could we go? I was distantly aware that we were in danger, but my brain was still processing what I’d done. If there was a heaven, I certainly wouldn’t be getting in now. I’m pretty sure murder was a no go. And especially one that I didn’t feel any sort of remorse over.
