Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 149301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
“Ya know, I haven’t had much of a chance to use these toys. I mean, I’ve used them on a few folks, but not four at one time. Y’all really outdid yourselves!” He giggled.
Kage grabbed another one of the misfits. That man begged and pleaded, offered money and the usual gifts and trinkets. Kage had heard it all before. One man had even offered his daughter—he made sure that guy was tortured for an especially lengthy time. He ignored this fellow’s cries and tied him to a metal table, then placed the other two on his widening panels, which were secured to the wall.
“You may wonder what this is, right? Well, this is a medieval stretchin’ board. It stretches your arms and legs like rubber bands. It does it so damn slow, it could take a day, or maybe even two. I love buildin’ shit. It’s my job, actually. I’m real handy, enough to be inspired by passé torture devices, and created my own for trespassers. Y’all motherfuckers should have left well enough alone when I set your friends on fire out in the middle of that field. But ohhhh no, y’all just had to come back and even the score. Seems rather silly, if you ask me. I was simply defendin’ myself. I didn’t start this little war, but I damn sure am going to end it.”
“Why are you doin’ this?! Why?!” one of them cried.
“See, that’s the problem with fuckers like y’all. You don’t have any vision! No imagination! You also don’t take the time to do any exploration of the facts. Find out about your opponent. Never come to a man’s house that you intend to kill, without knowing who he truly is. This ain’t Halloween.” He guffawed. “I ain’t got no candy for ya, but I got plenty of King Kane. That was my daddy… See, I’m a bastard. What they used to call an illegitimate child. The first mistake y’all made was comin’ over here. I think that’s crystal clear now. The second mistake, and the worst of the two, was comin’ over while my woman was with me. My precious possum, my woodland fairy, my sweet little Nina is to be protected at all times. She’s dealt with enough in her life, and y’all made it a bit worse. It’s one thing to have beef with me.” He pointed to himself. “It’s another to drag my lady into it.
“Y’all got to pay for that, and pay for it you will. So, the reason why I’m doing this, per your question, little pesto, is because I’m the insubordinate, once favorite, now ostracized grandchild of a Dixie Mafia Ace, named Cyrus ‘The Ragin’ Wilde Bull’. Now, that part you knew. But what you didn’t know is that I’m also the son of a hippie lady, what they call a white or good witch, who can hold crystals and your future in one hand, and blow your ass away with her Glock 19 in the other. And lastly, I’m the son of a ruthless MC gang leader who, accordin’ to legend, killed over thirty motherfuckers one fine Indian summer. In other words, fuckin’ up my enemies is in my blood. You can’t touch me.”
“Man, come on! Don’t do this… don’t do this! It wasn’t personal. We’re not your enemies; you’ve got it all wrong. We were just followin’ orders!” the one on the table pleaded.
Kage picked up a surgical tool, turning it to and fro as he studied the little, sharp pliers.
‘Turning to Stone,’ by Godsmack blared, the music feeling so good running through his body like. He slipped on a plastic apron, and cinched it just so in the back.
“You know, the settlers told the Indians that they were just followin’ orders. The Nazis told the Jews that they were just followin’ orders, too…” He played with various tools on the tray, ensuring that the pliers were the right choice.
“Hey, if you kill us, man, they’re gonna come after you even worse!” one of the guys on the wall being slowly stretched exclaimed. “HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!”
“Nobody can hear you, you fucking idiot,” Kage skulked about, then rolled his eyes. “Can you believe this guy?” He turned to the fellow on the table and smirked. “We’re underground.”
“YOU SICK, PSYCHO FREAK! YOU TWISTED FUCK!”
“AHHHHHH!!!!” The man on the table shrilled when Kage sank the pliers into his arm, jabbing and poking around. He glanced over his shoulder at the man in the nail chair, and winked at the guy as the nails continued to drill deeper and deeper into his flesh. The man seemed to be going in and out of consciousness—the pain far too great.
“Now, here’s the deal. I have a little proposition for y’all. I’m considering letting one of y’all live, but at a price, of course. Who wants to tell me where your boss is, so you might have a chance of gettin’ out of here?”