I need to speed this up a bit.
“I want a nail gun. Does anyone have one?”
“There should be one in the bag in the bush behind me,” Easton says sheepishly. “I may have hidden the kill bags too well.”
“Not at all,” Lyle says, pulling it from the bush. “No one who shouldn’t have found them. Ahh, yes. Here’s the nail gun.”
He walks over to give it to me, and my father begins to yap.
“I know you. Aren’t you a lawyer? Dirty fucking mouthpiece,” he snarls.
“I’m a lawyer, but not yours. Also, you’ve done very bad things the letter of the law will never be able to fully punish you enough for,” Lyle says, his southern twang getting thicker as he speaks. “Your daughter is going to fuck you up. None of us are here to save you.”
“Burn, burn, burn!” The room begins to chant, and I can’t stop grinning as I empty the nail gun into Franco’s face. He now reminds me of a horror movie I once saw with Vero.
I had nightmares for weeks, even though my day to day was reminiscent of one.
“Hi, Papa,” I say, once Franco is dead. A nail went through his eye and killed him. They don’t make bad guys like they used to. There’s just no fight in them…
I’m aware I’m loopy, and I’ll probably crash once I’m done. Kicking off my heels when my ankle threatens to give up on me, I walk barefoot through the blood on the ground toward my father.
“Vero, can you come help me, please?” I ask. I am beginning to lose steam, and this is as much my kill as it is hers.
“You fucking whore,” Papa laughs. “This is rich. You’re going to kill me? You don’t have the balls for it, dearest daughter.”
“Who do you think taught her how to kill, old man?” Verona asks, picking up the discarded bat I left behind. Swinging it hard, she yells in victory as it hits his hard head. “You did, you sick fuck. My mother wasn’t the best person, but she didn’t deserve what you did to her.”
“I forgot that cunt even existed,” he chuckles.
“Hold on, wife. He’s talking too much.”
Nico yanks Papa’s legs so he falls onto his back, and he grunts in pain.
“Did Verona give you my message?” Papa asks.
“The one where you said you’ll find a way to make my life hell?” I scoff. “The dead can’t do shit. Nico, can you strip him? Verona can beat him with a bat, but I want a hammer.”
“This is a piss poor form of torture,” my father yells, raising his head as Verona swings her bat again at him.
“I’m only getting started. I’m unfortunately also in a hurry. I have a pack to fuck, after all.”
“I raised you better than this. Fuck, leave me alone! Pervert! Nico, you’re a pervert just like your father. Stop!”
Nico rolls his eyes as he pulls off shoes, pants, and then uses the knife from his pocket to cut off the rest. He holds down my father while I use the hammer to break as many bones in his body as possible, and Vero beats the fuck out of him.
My father never stops yelling and talking shit, nor does he pass out.
“I need your knife, Nico, and gloves. I refuse to touch my father’s cock with my bare hands,” I say, wrinkling my nose.
“I love cutting off cock,” Cassidy says, finding gloves in the kill bag. “Where do you want it?”
“In his mouth, please. I want to sew his lips up,” I explain.
“I have a sewing kit,” Carter says, opening a bag to begin rooting through it. I am not surprised Easton wasn’t the only one to pack supplies.
Cassidy takes Nico’s knife and I step back with Verona as my father begins to kick and buck.
“No! I will go into the afterlife as a man. Go, you devil woman!”
