Moonlight

Chapter 3

            “Do you know what I used to do to beings such as yourself?” Jerry asked, looking at the devices on the table.

            “I’ll tear you apart if you lay one finger on me,” Mike threatened.

            “Oh, now that’s no way to behave, Mikey,” Jerry said. He walked up to the chair and backhanded Mike across the face. A shot of pain went across Jerry’s hand; he balled it up and opened his hand a few times.  “Either I’m getting old or you’re really tough.” He chuckled as he walked behind and unstrapped Mike’s head.

            “I used to torture the fuck out of your kind,” Jerry muttered in Mike’s ear.

            “You’re insane,” Mike said. “You get pleasure from torturing and killing innocent people?”

            “Not innocent, my boy. Cold blooded murders such as yourself. I hated your kind and any other being of the supernatural, ever since . . . that one night.” He paused, his right hand balling up and shaking like a leaf on a tree. Jerry relaxed and loosened up his hand. “I lost my darling wife one night to a gang of hoodlums that were vampires, then I lost my eldest son to a bunch of demons. As if that wasn’t enough, my youngest and only son I had left was taken by a pack of werewolves. He was only 25.” He started to sob. Mike wanted to comfort the old man, but this guy was psychotic. Jerry started to chuckle as he sobbed. “They all I had for family. I kept them close to my heart, seeking out those who were responsible for their deaths. I killed those bastards one by one.” His voice was grave. “Oh, I’ve gotten help from friends all right, but they didn’t help worth a shit. I went my own way.” Jerry’s voice lightened up as he walked back over to the table. “I had a job before this whole travesty. I was a therapist in training and was soon to become a master therapist. That did happen, of course. Your friend Eric is a nice guy, Michael. You must have very good friends.” He breathed a sigh. “But enough of that, when I first started to do this kind of thing, it was with a demon a few years ago. I liked the thrill of it, the screams were music to my ears. Just pulling beings off the street just to mess with them, the night I lost everything I loved dearly, I snapped. Went crazy, bonkers, nuts; I will kill every single werewolf, vampire, demon and Lord knows what until there isn’t a single trace of them all.”

            “You sick, crazy bastard,” Mike said. Jerry chuckled a little bit and played a record that was near the table. He popped a record of Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 21 and set the needle down. The sweet sound of violins and piano filled the room. Jerry reached for a syringe and faced Michael.

            “Shall we begin?” He walked over and the syringe penetrated Mike’s arm.

            “What’s that?”

            “Just a little something I threw together a while back when I was doing this. Sort of a regenerating/fast healing serum I made from a number of things that can work on a human being or a creature such as yourself. Now just relax for a bit.” Jerry grabbed a pair of clippers from the table and bent down to Mike’s right foot. He placed the clippers on the toe next to the big one. “You’ll feel a slight pinch.” He tightened his grip on the clippers. It cut through, followed by a snapping sound and clipped off Mike’s toe. Michael let out a blood curdling scream. “THAT’S WHAT I LIKE TO HEAR!” Jerry exclaimed. He waited a moment; the toe started to re-grow back to its original size. Jerry nodded and got up, walking back over to grab a hand drill.

            He came back over, walking over to Mike’s right side. Jerry held the drill at an angle, so the point of the drill faced up. He pulled trigger and proceeded to drill through Mike’s collarbone. He twisted the drill one way and then another. Jerry quickly pulled the drill out and drilled a hole between Mike’s index and middle finger at the same angle. After that Jerry drilled a couple holes in Michael’s chest, one in his breast plate, the other in his lower abdomen. All these wounds healed up, Jerry smiled as he moved on to hot pokers. He burned Mike in a few spots, then plunged them through his chest. But when Jerry pulled out the pokers, the wounds did not heal up this time.