Hell Raiser

Torture

I can't believe this. "You fucking what?" I take the blade from Violet and hold it to the piss-swine's throat. "Give me a really good reason why I shouldn't kill you?" I ask in a low, hard voice.

"I d-didn't know. I was s-set up t-to come here. S-some guy c-called over the ph-phone and t-told me to c-come to this ad-address. He said a g-girl wanted a g-good time here." I press the knife harder. Just breaking the skin and drawing blood. "H-he also s-said there w-was another g-girl here and he wanted t-to know if she w-was safe. And t-that the bad guy lived h-here. Hell Raiser."

Oh, fuck you. "I said a good reason." He starts sobbing and breaking down. I grab a handful of his thinning hair and tear it back. "But what would it matter, now that you know what I look like?" I run the blade across both his cheeks, making a shallow incision. "If you scream, your mouth will tear open."

A glance plus a grin equals Violet picking up the handgun from where I left it and shooting his leg. His scream halted as he gargles on his own blood and his mouth dropped open, spraying blood over the black marble floor. I slide the knife into his mouth, letting him taste the metallic edge. My hand comes down on his back, the knife skewering his neck. I push his head down and it slides until the handle meets the flesh.

I look up at Violet. "I'm not cleaning this up," she says matter-of-factly and saunters off to her room.

"Where are you going?" I call.

"To bed!" She shouts back.

I check my phone. No, it's still June. Maybe that really got to her. I look down at the scene below me. I sigh. "Fuck it, I'm calling the cleaners." I walk away but turn around. "Although, I'm sure you have something of worth on you." I go through his pockets. Wallet. Bloodied phone. Condom... I'm joking... There's eight. Credit card... and other assorted shit. I look through the wallet and am disappointed to see that he has fuck all money. Barely a grand. Nine-fifty maybe. See, fuck all. And there's another few credit cards in there too. I think about telling Violet. "Actually... it can wait." I put them aside and open his phone. Going through his contacts list, it seems like he has every hooker's number in the five cities. And then some. Suddenly the phone rings. I answer it. "Hello, you've reached the phone of some dead guy. Can I take a message?"

A familiar voice laughs. "You may." Voice modulated fuck. "I seem to have lost someone. Perhaps you know of them?"

"Who?"

"Well, the girl you're holding captive." He laughs again.

"What about super bitch? You send her after me?"

"Absolutely not. After all, competition is my game. It's no fun otherwise." Fucking twat muncher.

"So, what about her?"

"You should ask her..." He hangs up.

I throw the empty vodka bottle at the wall. "Fuck that son of a bitch." Time to ask some questions.