Page 8 of Pucked Around and Found Out

They sate him and make him easier to handle. I see clearly now. I can focus. This is me. This is who I’ve become in order to restore justice and I have no regrets.

When he has nothing left but nubs, I stand and drop the cutters on the cart then pick up the scalpel. I look down at the infamous Special Agent Di-Leo—pale, sweating, pain ridden and on the verge of begging me to end his miserable life. I won’t grant the cunt that mercy. I’ll take his lips then force him to sit here in agony while I deal with the others.

I slice his lips from his face and revel in his anguished screams. I hold them up and smile. These will make a nice addition to my treasure jar. I place them on the cart.

I’m going to gouge their eyes from their sockets, slice their ears from their heads and remove their fucking tongues so they can go to their graves deaf, dumb and blind.

I turn to Steven. His eyes are wide and filled with terror. My only regret about tonight is that Frank Kyle died too fucking quickly and his bitch of a son didn’t suffer before I blew his fucking brains out. I haven’t even taken a full step toward Steven and he is already pleading.

“I’ll hand it all over, Devlin. You’ve proven your point⁠—”

“I haven’t even begun to prove my fucking point, you spineless bastard!” I roar, cutting him off. His pathetic pleas mean nothing to me, the bastard will suffer. Because of him and Lorenzo I lost Emery. Neave. Miles.

Panic flares in his eyes as I close the space between us.

Standing before this piece of shit I feel a sense of calm, like everything around me vanishes except for him and me.

My enemy.

The son of a bitch who ruined my life and changed its course of direction without even knowing it.

Cas pushes the cart to my side. I see Steven’s mouth moving but I hear nothing as I grip the front of his shirt and rip it open. Buttons fly in different directions. I grab the saw which is caked in the blood of my last victim. The guys hold him in place without needing to be told as my blood roars in my ears, drowning out all his pleas and whimpers. I begin to saw into his shoulder.

I have no plan.

I always have one, but not tonight. I want to live on the edge and experience the high of living in the moment as I take each of these cunts apart one by one. I’m at peace. At this moment, nothing can touch me. The numbness I have grown to crave takes over and I revel in it.

There are only two things that can give me this euphoric blissed out state where I feel nothing, no pain, no reminders of the past, nothing except the moment at hand.

Killing.

And fucking her.

Just the thought of the bitch shatters my haze. It’s ripped away brutally and I’m left here looking at the wreckage I caused and it’s fucking beautiful..

In my haze I must have shifted to the next arm when I was finished removing the first. Unlike the latter, this one hangs on by muscle and skin.

“Shock the cunt, I want him to feel everything.” Flint appears with the crash cart in hand. I don’t lube the paddles as I charge it to three hundred. Both the guys release him as I place the paddles against his chest and shock the motherfucker back to consciousness.

His scream of pain is like Mozart, it’s beautiful and I could listen to it all day long.

“P–pl–please—” I don’t have the stomach to hear more of his bullshit begging. A single nod to Caspian has him moving behind Steven. He grips his head and holds it in place while I grab the clamps and the serrated edge knife. He tries to keep his mouth shut and fight me but it’s useless, his tongue is mine.

I ram the clamp inside his mouth, cracking his front teeth. He lets out a roar of pain and I use it to my advantage. Clamping his tongue, I pull it out and hold it in place, relishing his screams of pain as I begin slicing it off.

When I hear a strangled sound from Masen, I smirk as I cut his father’s tongue free, then toss it onto his lap. The little bitch squeals like a girl and begins thrashing in his chair, trying to get it off his lap.

Steven is sobbing and whimpering like a pathetic piece of shit. Blood drips down his chin and the look of pain in his eyes isn’t the one I want to see. I want him looking utterly defeated, broken and hollow.

I take his lips. His screams are pathetic, he can’t even do that right without a tongue. I smile at them as I place them on the cart next to Meekan’s.

“Pass out again and we’ll shock your ass. You get to watch me destroy your heir now,” I grit out, then turn to face Masen. The cocksucker is pale and trembling. The look in his eyes is what I want to see, broken and lost. He knows what’s coming and leaving him to sit there and watch built the anticipation and allowed the fear inside him to grow like I wanted.

Men think they are strong and invincible, until you show them there are no options left but pain and death.

I call the shots.

I decide who lives and dies and this feeling of power is what I am addicted to.