Page 7 of Savior
“I was good to her… I liked her.” He has the balls to say to me. I’m tempted to crack him in the back of the head with my weapon, but I refrain.
He leads me to a cement room with a tiny barred window above a shitty stained mattress laid flat on the concrete floor. The place reeks of mildew and stale piss. There’s a plastic bucket in the far corner of the small room. Presumably her dismal bathroom accommodations.
“Yeah… I can tell you really liked her.”
“I treated her well.” He has the audacity to insist.
“You treated her to a bunch of unwanted pedo cock, is what you did, you sick fuck.” I snarl at him. “Where are the others?”
“They’re gone.” He taunts me with a chuckle. “Shipped off to their new owners. I’ll have a new stock in a few days.”
“The fuck you will.” I grab him by his cut and yank him out of the cell, shoving him towards the next. This room is the same, only the shitty mattress looks like it’s stained with old blood, sitting on a rusted metal bedframe with handcuffs hanging from it. The sick shit these poor girls must have gone through… Fuck.
The urge to put two in the back of his head is damn near overwhelming.
“I should cuff you face down to that filthy bed and rape you with this fucking gun.” I hiss through gritted teeth. “Pump the rest of this fuckin’ magazine right up your ass.” He doesn’t have anything to say to that, but I hear him audibly swallow. “On your fucking knees.” He hesitates, so I slam my gun down solidly at the base of his neck, kicking him behind his leg. He grunts as he collapses to his knees. “Now cuff yourself to the frame.”
“Fuck you!”
I twist my fist in his hair and wrench his head back, forcing him to look up at me.
“So, you are hot for Smith and Wesson.” I sneer at him, jamming the silencer into his fucking mouth. “Blow me first, asshole.” I smile down at him. He attempts to reach his hands up to pull the gun out of his mouth, but I jam it inside deeper, slamming it into the back of his throat, making him gag and his pale gray eyes bulge in fear. “No hands, bitch. Now fucking suck, or I pull this goddamned trigger and send a hot load down your fucking throat.”
I laugh at him as he immediately begins to slurp on the barrel of my silencer. His cold eyes are watering, full of hate and degradation. Fists clenched at his sides.
“Good little pig.” I sneer, shoving the barrel deep again, gagging him before I rip it out of his mouth. The metal clanks solidly against his teeth, bringing his hands flying to his mouth. “Now grab those fucking cuffs and stand up. I’ve got a better idea.” I order him, kicking him forward against the mattress. This time he does as he’s told. “Cuff your wrist and back up against the wall.” I instruct him, pointing with the gun, watching him follow his directions. “Now lift your cuffed wrist all the way up.” His hand just reaches the little barred window above his head. I step closer to him, jamming the barrel of the silencer under his chin. “I suggest you keep real fucking still, or I’m going to blow your cock-sucking head off.” Reaching up, I grab the other cuff and attach it to one of the bars on the window, making sure the cuff around his wrist bites into his flesh. He’s not going anywhere.
Taking a step back from him, I tuck the gun into my belt, then remove the bandana, helmet and goggles from my face, setting them down on the mattress. Pulling my knife from its sheath at my side, I hold it up and slowly twist it around so he can see it, watching the fear return to those creepy pale eyes.
“Look, you got the girl… I don’t know who the fuck you are.” He says. “You can just walk out of here… You killed my guys upstairs… You obviously killed Sharky…”
“Killed the other three, too.” I shrug. “I’m on a fucking roll. Why stop now?” I watch his eyes drift momentarily to the cut I’m wearing. His lips press together for a moment, his brows furrow slightly. “Sharky was your favorite, huh? A blood brother, maybe?” I ask. He doesn’t answer me, but his eyes narrow. I nod. “I hit that motherfucker so hard with his own crowbar, I damn near ripped his jaw off his face... Shit was just hanging by skin… Bloody. Painful. He did not die well… But I guess we could call him Jaws now, in honor of his gruesome death.” I chuckle. “That’s more intimidating than fuckin’ Sharky. Sure suits him better, now.” I taunt him by grabbing my own stubbled jaw, wobbling it side to side with a sinister grin.
“Fuckin’ psychopath.” He shakes his head with disgust. “You’re really gonna kill me.”
“I see it more like an extermination.”
A sudden grin slides across his expression. “Did Sharky tell you how he got his name?”
“He was too busy dying.” I place the knife down on the bed and unzip Sharky’s cut, slipping it off. “And I don’t give a fuck.”
“Shark Week was our private joke. He liked to break in the girls for their new owners.” Asmo chuckles, and I could fucking puke as my eyes drift to the blood stains on the mattress.
“Too bad a man can only die once.” I watch him, watch me, walk over to the bucket in the corner of the concrete room and drop the cut into the human excrement they haven’t bothered to empty. “Unfortunately for you, now I’m gonna have to give you some of what Sharky missed out on.” Walking back towards him, I put my foot up on the bed to reach into my boot, removing the brass knuckles tucked inside. I slide them onto my fingers and grip them in my fist. “You’ll be burning in Hell with him when I’m through with you.”
“You’ll never get away with this.” he threatens me.
“Maybe the Devil will grant you a fair fight when we meet again. We’re all gonna die someday. But that day, isn’t today… At least not for one of us.” I allow another crooked smile to creep across my face as I approach him.
He tries to swing at me with is free hand, but I block his punch, twisting my arm around his, locking it up with mine. Faster than he can even register, before the pain of cracking bones hits him, I grip and twist his hand. Jerking his arm up violently at a most unnatural angle, I snap at least his wrist and dislocating his elbow in one, brutally effective move. When he lets out a howl of pain, I slug him hard in the gut, taking the wind right out of him. His body wants to keel over, but he can’t. He’s propped up by his cuffed wrist, dangling like meat on a fucking hook from that barred window.
Leaning in close to his ear, I whisper, “Right now, I’m the only Demon you need to worry about… And this party, is just getting started.”
When I enter the hotel room again, it’s well after three am. I had stopped at the gas station across the street to fuel up Serene, where I saw on the local news already, a report about an explosion at a biker bar somewhere near Gila Bend. Some kind of a gas leak, they presume.
Imagine that…
The girl is sleeping in the bed, curled up under the covers, the bathroom light left on with the door partially cracked. The room is mostly dark, but I can see laundry folded up neatly at the foot of the bed. Clean laundry. The scent permeates the air, even over the somewhat dank, mildewy odor of the shitty room. In my absence, she washed my clothes with the money I left her on the night table in case I never made it back tonight. That was sweet of her… She could have taken the cash and bolted on me, and who could blame her if she had? I sure wouldn’t.
