| | :: Fanfic ::
The Night Hell Raised. Part Six
Author: Patricia Anne McCarty
Word Count: 556
Author's Notes: The Night Hell Raised is Rated R. This 7 part story is based on true events I learned about while watch a crime documentary. I felt terrible and wished there was something that could be done to these jerks that would hurt as bad as what they gave. So I am writing this in honor of the victim the report was about. Please be warned there are some gruesome scenes in this story.
The Night Hell Raised. Part Six
Rated R
WARNING: STRONG sexual content, language and toucher.
Don’t really relate to the term “mom”. Aint something’ I ever had, that I can remember.
Door’s locked. Won’t stop me.
I want to bust it down and get this show over with, but with what I have in mind, it’s best to play it like a silent movie. So I quietly break in. First thing I’m seeing is a short round gray haired lady cookin’ some chow over a old time stove. I keep hidden and watch, waitin’ for the right moment to strike.
Their talkin’ about what’s for super and about his hard day at work. Seems he’s been feedin’ her a line about how he cleans the rooms of rich people in the local swanky hotel and how they tip so well. She buys it hook line a sinker. I almost feel sorry for the old braud. ALMOST.
His scent of sin is strong, you aint gotta have a sniffer like mine to smell it. Just cause a person decides to not see… don’t make ‘em blind.
I watch on, muscles twitchin’. The beast is knockin’ again, bangin’ hard at the door beggin’ to get out. I clench my jaws tight holding back as I wait.
She serves him up a heaping plate, then sets one for herself. They eat and jabber jaw for about a half hour. Then the dishes need washin’. He such a respectful son. Just gets right up and washes ‘em with out even being asked. Dear old ma, she’s right there giving him his well earned hug and kiss on the cheeck . He reaches in his pocket and pulls out some Ben Franklins and hands them to her. She smiles and tells him how she love him bla bla bla, it’s enough to make me f**kin’ barf.
Seems the old bat out did herself today, she’s tired and heads to her room.
Now it’s MY turn.
He’s walkin’ towards the front door. He’s gotta pass me first. I’m ready. He never seen me and I pounce on him like a tiger on a deer. I grab him from behind. I got him in a head lock. Tight. I’m chokin’ him as I bring him down to my level. I show him real quick I aint playin’. He has a set of razer sharp blades right to his throat, I tell him how it’s gonna be.
“You’er gonna come with me real peaceful like, or I’ll rip your throat out. Then I’m gonna rip your dear old ma apart just like you ripped the life out of those girls you nabbed.” I end with a sinister grin and cut his throat just enough to let it bleed red.
I drag him outside and back to the shack. Up the stair, I run into a snag. He pops me in the side. f**ker hits hard. I just laugh and grin. I strike, getting his left side. A slab of flesh falls off and hits the ground with a plop. He’s screamin’ and horrified. I smell fear and piss as he begs like a little girl thingy. It pisses me off, least he could do is take it like a man. I don’t hear a word, I just see red.
Gettin’ hit by me is like gettin’ slapped with a sock full of nickels. I punch his face. A few teeth fall out. He strikes back, I can take as good, or better than I give.
“Bring it on scumbag! I dare ya!”
One hard hit and well aimed kick, and I just busted his knee to pieces. As quick as that one, the other goes. Nothing brings a big man down faster than cuttin’ him off at the knees.
I drag him by his hair he’s screamin’ like a little girl. I tie him up good and tight with the same ropes he used on Julia. Now I’m thinkin’ I’m tired of hearin’ his yap. So I gag him but GOOD.
Julia’s words runs threw my mind and the beast is once again set free. Pay back’s a pregnant dog.
I go down stairs and collect a spike , Near the supply are 2 sledge hammers, I grab one and head back up the stairs. I see the fear in his eyes as he see me, spike in one hand hammer in the other.
“Fear sure does stink, but you know what stinks more? Do you? You. yep, sucks to be you mother f**ker. There’s and old sayin’ goes something like, He that lives by the sword, dies by the sword, or in this case the spike. But you aint gettin’ off that easy!” My eyes narrow.
I walk over to him, stick my blade just under his belt pull up and slice the leather and cloth like butter. I laugh out loud seems I aint the only one who doesn’t wear underwear.
“Say good bye to your thingy peckerhead!” I inform him, and with one swift move.. it’s GONE.
While he screamin’ I pick it up, cut off the gag , toss it aside then stuff “IT” straight down his throat. About that same time I plung the spike in his head and swing the hammer down.
His blood splats all over me. Don’t bother me none, he’s dead.
I look around and find a slip of paper and a broken pencil. I write out the words, “The Rail Road Spike Rapist” and set the paper on his chest.
“He that lives by the sword, will die by the sword.” seems fittin’.
I walk out, head for home, back to my girl. I’ve missed her so much, I can’t wait to get home and make love to her, hold her in my arms, and never let her go.
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