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When his screams dissipated he turned his head and vomited onto the grated floor, gagging and choking on it. Finally he spat and coughed, then turned his lone good eye upon me. Rather than looking defeated and broken, he appeared menacing. A grim smile playing at his lips.
“I guess…now that things are drawing to a close…I should tell you a little secret, dear Dahlia.”
Something about his tone of voice filled me with trepidation. He was far too calm after all that we’d done to him.
“What secret?” I asked, my voice sounding hollow in my own ears.
He laughed, the fucker actually laughed. Missing three teeth, an eyeball, and a quarter of his body skinned, he still managed to laugh. “You dumb bitch. I can’t believe you fell for it.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Drake snarled and slapped him on his bloody skinless arm.
Owen let out a yelp and grimaced, but the smile never left.
Again, that lone baleful eye leveled on me. “Didn’t you wonder why your dear fucking foster father never seemed so bad when you were a kid? A girl like you? Who’d been through all you had? You weren’t able to spot a predator in your midst?”
The floor seemed to tilt beneath me. I could see the man, David Cartwright, in my mind’s eye. Saw him in that old chapel in the woods. I could see him screaming as I destroyed him piece by piece. I could feel his blood on my skin as Drake fucked me in the pool of crimson that oozed from him.
“He…he liked boys,” I whispered. “He told me. That’s why. He had no need for me. He liked young boys.”
Owen spat a wad of bloody phlegm on the ground and glanced at Drake. “Your girl is hot, but she’s not the brightest bulb is she, Drakey boy?”
“What are you saying?” Drake asked, his own face, smeared and spattered with other people’s blood looking confused and horrified.
“David Carwright was never a pedophile. He never did anything wrong. Not a day in his life. He was a straight fucking arrow from birth to grave,” Owen managed to say through his own chuckles.
“No! That’s not true,” I screamed. “He confessed. He told me everything.”
“It is amazing what a man will do to protect the woman he loves,” Owen said. “I kidnapped him and his dearly beloved wife, Michelle. Another fat cunt like him. Told him the story he was to tell. Made sure he knew I’d be watching. Made him understand that if he didn’t stick to the story, even through the pain of death, I’d butcher his wife like the cow she was.”
Tears sprang to my eyes, and I shook my head slowly in horror. “No…that can’t be.”
A flash of memory. David and Michelle taking me for ice cream. The same memory I’d had while torturing and killing him. The only people other than Clint and Marie who’d ever been good and kind to me in my whole miserable life.
“That’s bullshit,” Drake said, taking a threatening step forward. “You showed me the records. The internet history, all of it. He did abuse those boys.”
“Forged, you dumb fuck,” Owen said, grinning at him with blood-stained teeth. “I forged all of it. Usually you’d have seen through it, but you were too hypnotized by Dahlia’s little pussy to realize it. I thought it would be fun to see how an innocent did in the playhouse. I also wanted to fuck with your precious Dahlia here. I have to say, I might have rubbed one out watching you fuck her in that puddle of blood.
The echoing screams of the innocent man, a kind and good man, Owen had manipulated me into killing echoed through my head. The blood, the viscera, all of it.
“What did you do with Michelle?” I asked. I already knew what the answer would be, but I had to hear it.
Owen shrugged but winced at the pain in his arms and shoulders. “Couldn’t put her back out on the streets. Me and my acquaintance who, you’ll remember, you beheaded, had some fun with her.” He leaned toward me, his eye glittering with excitement. “Do you have any idea how long it takes to rape a woman to death? I’m usually not one for fatties, but it was pretty exciting, regardless.”
Something within me snapped. I rounded the chair and leapt upon him, Raining blows down on Owen’s face. Drake was shouting at me, and Owen was screaming in pain as I clawed at the naked muscle of his arms. Gasping screams of rage were coming from me. I could feel the vibration in my throat from them, but they weren’t words, just a high-pitched whine, almost like a blender, buzzing in my ears, mixing with Owen’s screams.
“Go to hell,” I hissed, spit and drool hanging in strings from my mouth, and I shoved my hand into Owen’s mouth. His agonized eyes opened in surprise.
I didn’t stop at his tongue. No, I pushed further, my knuckles dragging across his uvula. Owen gagged and retched as I pushed deeper into his throat, my small hand slipping and sliding further down. He vomited then, or tried to. The hot burning sludge splashed up across my fingers, but I used it as lubrication and pushed harder, even as he tried to bite my forearm. His throat bulged madly as my hand slid down his esophagus. Drake stood beside me, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.
Owen thrashed in animal panic beneath me, and kept trying to cough, vomit filling his lungs, and my hand blocking the oxygen. His face was blood red, and I’d nearly pushed my elbow to his teeth. Deep in his throat, I clawed with my nails, sending fresh spasms of pain through him, until finally, with a hot gush of blood, I managed to grab hold of some delicate and important part of his insides. Clasping it in my fist, I let out a guttural scream, and yanked myself back. There was a tearing sensation deep within him, and a long hunk of cartilage with strips of hanging meat came free in my fist as I pulled free of him.
What looked like a waterfall of blood washed out of his mouth across his chest and into his lap. Owen’s head fell forward, chin resting on his chest, eyes vacant and staring. Dead at last. Dead and gone, and rotting in hell.
“Dahlia,” Drake said, reaching for me. “I didn’t know. I swear I?—”
“Fuck me, Drake.”
“What?”
