By Geoffrey C. Porter
WARNING: This is the most violent piece I've ever written, please don't judge my writing based on this piece. This is a really heinous and bloody story, so if you're squeamish, don't read it.
Roy and Fred plotted their next moves with Neanderthalic dread and malice. They knew no gloomy fear of regret, for they had done these things before. They sat down days before and made a list. They had everything they needed. Everything but tape, and they had been told they would find tape in the garage.
Roy drove the scarred, black sedan from an era of cheap gas and v-8's in every machine. It was the kind of car you'd see a million times and never take notice of it for having seen so many of the same breed. Roy knew the way. Roy had been there before having met the client on an evening when his wife had been at a Rotary Club function of some impossibly lame sort.
Castella arranged the deal and the meeting with the client, Ramsey. More than once in their dealings with Castella, he shot people he didn't like or who crossed him. Shot them in the head that is. You wouldn't want to meet the people who Castella both didn't like and who crossed him.
They drove through Suburbia, USA. Through twisted turns they found the place pulling up in its driveway. Roy and Fred ascended the steps to the front door and tried the knob. It didn't turn. Roy pulled out a key and unlocked the door. A beeping started, and Fred stepped inside and entered the numeric key code into the security system.
Music played from upstairs: a fast tune playing on a piano that resonated along the walls filling the entire house with its vibrant melodies of energy and will. Roy and Fred ascended the stairs stepping gingerly. They walked through the hallway both of them checking each room with their greed filled eyes. Fred cast a shadow across the ivory keys of the ancient but timeless piano.
Melinda looked up from her music with crystal blue eyes. Her oval shaped face started to etch with anger. Her complexion turned from white with a tiny hint of tan to beet red. She moved to stand and protest.
Fred lashed out with his right fist catching her square on the nose and sending her reeling across the piano keys. It sounded as if a chorus of pans had been smashed down. Melinda rolled off the piano onto the floor. She started to push herself up by her hands when Roy kicked her hard enough in the ribs to break one. She ignored the piercing pain and pushed herself to her feet. She wanted to yell at them, ‘Get out of my house!' but the vicious beast in her already took over, and she threw her right hand in a fist at Roy's nose. Fred's fist cracked across her jaw before her well intentioned knuckles cracked into Roy's tender nose.
Melinda fell backwards and, almost before she even landed, Roy and Fred started kicking her head and chest with their steel toed boots. She started twitching a bit, and they stopped kicking her.
"Go get the tape!" ordered Roy.
Fred took off down the hallway.
Melinda lay there not thinking just absorbed by blackness.
Fred found the garage and started rifling through an assortment of tools, equipment, paint, and lumber. The last drawer he sorted through contained a roll of masking tape. The kind of weak tape made of thin brown paper and glue that could easily be torn down after a job. Fred opened the garage door and drove the sedan in. He closed the garage door and smiled. No one saw him. Fred returned to the piano room.
Roy paused and merely stared. "Masking tape?" he said.
"Don't give me that look, Roy. I looked through the whole garage."
"But you stopped looking when you found the tape didn't you?"
Fred slowly moved his hands to his hips as if he planned to draw guns belted to his waist. He let out a slow breath and whispered, "I searched the whole damn garage, and I found this piece of shit roll of masking tape."
Melinda interrupted the men by scraping open Roy's left leg with her practically steel reinforced nails due to years of manicures and vitamin treatments. Roy yelled. Fred jumped in stomping down on Melinda's hands crushing bone against bone.
Melinda shrieked, "Get out of my house!"
Fred handed the masking tape to Roy, and he knelt down and started taping Melinda's wrists together. Melinda cried at near the top of her lungs, "What the fuck are you doing!"
Roy finished with the tape and smacked her across the face with the time hardened roll. Fred sat on Melinda's midsection pushing her down. Roy grabbed her ankles and pulled them together. Melinda cried out again, "What the fuck are you doing!"
"Just taking you for a little ride, that's all honey-buns." Fred said as he smiled.
Melinda tried to kick at them, but her ankles were bound. Roy pulled a dirty rag from his back pocket and stuffed it into the helpless woman's mouth. He wrapped the tape around her head holding the rag in place. She twisted and turned trying to fight the men, but one picked her up by her armpits, and the other picked her up by the middle.
They opened the trunk of the car. Inside the trunk lay a black army style duffle bag, two shovels, and a ball peen hammer of considerable size. Melinda started to weep for the first time since she was a baby. She shook her head no. Fred put the bag over her head until it covered her whole body. Roy pummeled her on the head with the ball peen hammer hoping to end things in a humane manner for once in his life. They lifted her still form into the trunk and closed the lid.
They drove for three hours taking twists and turns being careful not to break any traffic laws. Their path finally led down a dirt road surrounded by desert on both sides. They pulled the car to a stop. They opened the trunk. Fred poked Melinda, and she twitched. They lifted her out and onto her feet. They grabbed up the shovels. They nudged her into the desert. They walked about fifteen paces, and Roy smacked her on the back of the head hard enough to send her into the blackness again.
Fred and Roy started digging in the loose sand. The sun set as they dug to the bottom of a six foot deep hole. Fred and Roy picked Melinda up. Roy said, "Wait! We gotta take the bag off her."
"What? Who cares!"
Roy glared, "These bags are expensive man. Cutting into our profit you know."
Fred glared back, "What are they? Five dollars?"
Roy's eyes lit open, and he scolded, "Closer to twenty!"
"We're getting twenty-five grand, give or take taxes."
"Twenty dollars is twenty dollars!"
Fred started unraveling the bag from Melinda's trembling form. They tossed her in the hole, and she landed painfully on her side.
Fred said, "She's still alive."
"I told you we should have brought a gun," stammered Roy.
"No guns in a job like this. You know a gun adds five years to your sentence."
Roy snickered like a teenager getting his first fistful of teat. "If the fuzz knew half of what we've done, we'd face the gas chamber."
Melinda started to cry even though she was sure she had no tears left.
Fred smiled, "She can't breathe dirt."
Roy nodded. He grabbed up a shovel and started piling dirt on Melinda.
Melinda started to pray. She prayed feverishly even though she had practiced praying hundreds of times in church on Sundays. She begged for aid. As the dirt started to clog her nose, she began to pray for revenge. Only silence echoed in return. She started to form the words, Lord, I pray to thee. I beseech thee. Grant me revenge.
Silence and darkness echoed as her heart thumped in her chest. Lord, grant me revenge.
She heard a tiny whisper asking, "What will you give?"
"You are destined for eternal bliss in heaven. Will you trade an eternity in my nether region of hell for revenge?"
Melinda started to choke, and her lungs started to burn. She sucked dirt into her nose and convulsed as she tried to sneeze. Her heart started to race and everything started to get fuzzy. She cried out in her mind, Lord, help me.
"I shall," echoed in the blackness.
Her lungs burned in a rage. Her heart began to skip beats as it died for lack of oxygen. She began to spasm inside the confines of her sand and earth encasement. She seemed to die, but it wasn't the end.
Melinda's stomach started to sink as she seemed to pass through a tunnel of air. She landed on a moist stone floor and realized she was naked. She stared at the walls of the circular room and noticed only one exit. A rack of cloaks or robes of some sort stood by the exit. She grabbed the first piece of cloth and put it on. The fabric was course and scratchy but fit loosely.
Melinda stepped through the exit into a much larger circular room with exits spaced out evenly along the walls. The light came from above and from nowhere. A man stood in the center of the room with blood red skin that glinted in the light as if red paint covered him. He wore pants but no shirt. He had two horns of different shape and size on his forehead. Melinda stared for a moment, and the man was the spitting image of Richard Gere other than the horns, tail, and paint-red skin.
He said, "Approach."
Melinda stepped quickly forward and kneeled.
"As you know, I am Satan. You have heard of me; haven't you?"
Melinda nodded, "Satan. Beazelbub. Lucifer. The Devil."
"Perhaps you have studied?"
"I was raised Catholic."
"Ahh. Yes, the Catholics. Well, you know there is still time for you to turn back. I can grant you the power you seek, but the price is as high as prices come."
Melinda said, "I want revenge. They invaded my sanctuary."
"You will have three days to finish your deeds of horror."
"How can I find them in three days?"
"I will give you the power. Focus on their faces. You will know what direction to hunt in."
"What other powers will I have?"
"You will heal like no other, but do not assume that they cannot kill you. If they lop off your head, you would surely die. You can master your powers as you go. It will be simple."
"Do you agree to our deal: your eternal soul in trade for power across three days time?"
Melinda bowed her head, "I agree, my lord."
Melinda whisked upwards until she was back in the hole under six feet of dirt. She started squirming around making a cavity within the loose sand. She blew the sand out of her nose and coughed up what had wormed its way into her lungs. She started ripping the masking tape off her head until she was able to pull the rag free. She bit and tore at the tape around her wrists with her teeth. She started digging upwards. She held her breathe until she reached the surface.
She sucked in a lungful of fresh night air. She focused in on Fred and Roy's faces finding them engaged in a homosexual act within a trailer house not four miles across the desert. She started jogging. With each step she gained strength making longer and longer strides as gravity seemed to be lacking.
She threw open the door to the trailer house and stepped inside. Fred and Roy both dropped their beers. Fred grabbed a pistol off the TV tray next to him and shot Melinda twice in the chest. It pushed her back, but the holes sealed themselves and healed within an instant. Roy shouted, "Shoot her in the head, you idiot!"
Fred shot her in the head. She stumbled backwards, and the pain was simply incredible, but she didn't fall. "Again!" shouted Roy.
Fred squeezed the trigger, and Melinda growled ‘stop' with her mind. The bullet stopped inches from Melinda's forehead. She grabbed the bullet and whipped it as hard as she could at Roy's stomach. The bullet pierced him straight through, and he groaned.
Fred looked at Roy's fallen form and then squeezed off three more shots at Melinda. She stopped the bullets in mid flight. A baseball bat leaned up against the wall by the door, and Melinda smiled as she picked it up. She turned on Fred. He stood shaking, and a streak of fluid stained his pants, and it wasn't the spilled beer.
Melinda kept up her smile and said, "Tell me who hired you, and I'll make it quick."
"Your husband, Ramsey, hired us!"
"He took out a $250,000 life insurance policy on you."
"Ramsey loves me! We have more than that in our retirement portfolios!"
"He offered us ten percent to get rid of you!"
Melinda nodded. She quietly said, "I said I'd make it quick. Well, you know I define quick, a little different from most people."
Fred's eyes sort of bugged out, and he fell to his knees and put his hands together as if in prayer. Melinda started to beat him savagely avoiding his head. She broke his legs in a dozen places. She knew practically limitless strength. She reveled in his cries of surrender and pain. Finally a bone shard slipped into his bloodstream and found its way to a critical point in his heart, and he stopped moving permanently.
Roy lay in a pool of blood, and Melinda went to work. Roy died in just under an hour, as his system seemed more resistant to bone shards. Melinda went into their bathroom and examined herself in the mirror. She was dirty and covered in specks of blood. She showered in their shower. She found the keys to their car and drove it about a half mile from her home. She knew Ramsey would be out of town until the following day, so she stayed up all night focusing on her heart's delight, her music.
Melinda knew the exact time Ramsey would return from work, and she prepared an extravagant dinner. She set slices of roast filet on the table with carrots and potatoes. She placed a basket of warm bread on the table. She buttered asparagus. Ramsey opened the front door and stepped inside whistling a happy tune. When he saw her and the dinner, he paused. "Melinda," he said.
"Dinner is ready, dear."
Ramsey nodded and sat. He didn't eat though. His hands started to shake.
"Eat," she said.
He said, "Did anything happen when I was in Florida?"
"No, Ramsey. What could possibly have happened?"
"Oh, I don't know."
"Your dinner is going to get cold."
He grabbed a fork and stabbed a piece of the filet. He set it on his plate. He cut a bite sized piece and ate it. He smiled, "It's very tender. It's just right."
"Well, I know how you like it bloody."
He took another bite.
"Eat! Eat!" she said.
He took some of the carrots and potatoes. He grabbed a roll. He grabbed a piece of asparagus with his fingers and chomped down on it.
Melinda watched, and waited, and finally said, "I hear you took out a life insurance policy on me."
Ramsey choked. Melinda smacked him on the back. Ramsey stood up. Melinda stood up and hit him with a right cross to end all right crosses. Teeth and jawbone shattered, and he fell like a bag of rocks onto the floor. Melinda grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him out to the garage. Somewhere along the way she had acquired a roll of duct tape, and she taped his wrists to the legs of his workbench. She taped his ankles together. She broke open a capsule of smelling salts and put them under his nose. He stirred awake. He howled, "It's not what you think, Melinda!"
"Oh? What is it?"
Ramsey paused, "I did it for us, Melinda. I wanted us to have money."
"At the cost of my life? Are you deranged?"
Ramsey started to cry.
Melinda grabbed a pair of pruning sheers off the work bench. She removed his shoes. She started with the pinkie toe and cut it off. Blood spurted just a little bit. She grabbed a blowtorch and burned the wound until the bleeding stopped while Ramsey screamed and screamed.
She moved on to toe after toe until all ten lay on the floor. Ramsey said, "Please don't kill me!"
"I'm going to kill you, Ramsey."
"At least I told them not to rape you!"
"They were gay!"
Melinda moved on to his fingers cutting off digits where they attached to the hand. Ramsey lost consciousness. Melinda stripped his pants off. She plugged the staple gun into the air compressor and loaded one and a half inch staples. She used the smelling salts on him. He felt the cold air on his penis and started to cry like a three year old that lost his mommy.
She sank three staples into his member attaching it to his abdomen as if it were upright. For good measure, she sank a staple into his left nut and then his right. He cried out, "Don't do it, honey. I would never hurt you like this!"
"You had me buried alive!"
He started sobbing. Melinda got the hand saw off the workbench and started sawing off his member at the base. Blood flowed like you wouldn't believe, and Ramsey screamed a high pitched scream you'd expect from a giant bird. When she finished, she took a step back and examined her handiwork. Ramsey started to spasm, and the blood stopped flowing.
Melinda waited to be sure. She kicked him in the nuts, and he didn't even twitch. She knelt down and whispered, "It is finished. I am done."
She started sinking down and down until she was in a round room surrounded by mirrors once again. She donned a robe from the rack of clothes, but this time the fabric was smooth as silk. She exited the room into the main chamber, and Satan waited.
He smiled at her.
She knelt down and said, "I'll pay."
Satan nodded, "I need a new queen, and you'll do. We shall rule over hell together, for an eternity."
Melinda nodded. Melinda smiled.
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