Page 18 of Knot His Beast
Brad is a big guy, but he’s not as fit as I am. Lifting him until his beer gut hits my shoulder, I wince as I straighten and walk toward the living room. Releasing his body I laugh as he falls onto the wooden floor head first.
“Be right back,” I growl, returning with his children. I need to be efficient with my time, so I pull them out together by their feet.
Not bothering to say anything else for now, I pull out a heavy hammer.
“Mm, mm, mmm!” Brad pleads, but I simply shrug before lifting the mask until my lips show.
“I don’t need to tell you why you’re going to die,” I reply. “You’ve been terrorizing the farms around your properties for years. You’re also responsible for the deaths of several people.”
It wasn’t just my mom. There have been several ranch hands in the area who have died due to equipment failing, and one lost his legs but lived. Paul’s legs were a direct result of Brad fucking with the Mitchell’s shit.
“There’s always been enough work for everyone,” I say, slamming the hammer down on Brad’s youngest’s head. The kid isn’t a kid. He’s in his twenties, and just as mean as his fucking father.
It feels as if I black out as the hammer moves up and down in my hand over and over until the broken bodies of both Collins boys lay at my feet. Brad pissed himself at some point during my murders, and I wrinkle my nose.
“Gross, man. You’ve killed people, and this freaks you out? Maybe it’s accountability that is scaring you? Hmm. That’s interesting. Philosophy was never my thing, though.”
Cleaning the brain matter and blood off the hammer, I dig through my toys until I find something better for him.
“I hear that the piggies enjoy their food half alive,” I muse. “So I’ll make sure you’re still able to feel their teeth as they eat you.”
Pulling out the vial of sedative, I fill the syringe with just enough to ensure that he’s awake but unable to move. Shovingthe syringe into his neck, I nod as his entire body relaxes. To test my theory, I kick the shit out of him until I’m ready to move on.
The pig farm isn’t far from here, though I’ll have to take several trips in the truck for any bodies that I won’t break up. In fact, I may as well get that done now.
Pulling out the plastic sheeting and electric hack saw, I break up Collins’ sons’ bodies until they can fit into the large plastic bags I brought just for this.
Patting Brad’s face, I straighten to move to the next house.
“Michelle Walker was my mother, shitstain. You killed her with your stupid little firework prank. Sometimes, the kid grows up to be a psychotic monster.”
Pulling down the mask over my face, I walk to the kitchen to scrub my gloves of the blood on my hands. I’m ready to move on after drying them off and grab my gear.
Locking the house back up, I move onto the next house. My murder plan is quick and easy, so I rinse and repeat the next two houses, leaving the Trumaine and Schaffer houses for last.
As I move through the Trumaine house, I find that their younger children aren’t home. Surprised because I didn’t think they had any family, I take care of Bobby and his older brother before killing Trumaine’s wife so I can ask him a few questions.
Travis doesn’t even realize she’s dead as I straddle his body.
“Where are your younger children?” I growl, my hand around his throat.
“What? Oh fuck, Darla!” he yells.
“Wrong answer,” I grunt, not mentioning that she’s dead yet. “Want to try again before I pull your intestines out your asshole?”
“Fuck, fuck! Riley and Marla went to camp for the long weekend. It was already paid for, so there was no reason for them not to go,” Travis Trumaine gasps. “What do you want? We don’t have any money!”
The girls were supposed to actually be at school because they had already paid for the year in its entirety. I didn’t account for the long weekend, so I want to make sure I didn’t miss them while I went through the rooms. I completely forgot the long weekend meant they might come home.
I will not be sloppy.
“I know,” I say with a shrug, gagging him before flipping him over onto his stomach.
Travis sobs as he sees his dead wife’s body, but I don’t have any time to enjoy it. My knee digs into his back as I secure his wrists and ankles, and then he’s sailing across the room into the wall.
Okay, it was a little petty, but he’s my second to last house. No one will hear the crash, especially not with these heavy windowpanes. They’re about the only thing worth anything in this godforsaken house.
Dragging the family members that are still alive into the living room, I pull my phone out to search for any weekend camps in the area. Finding a few due to the four day weekend, I hack my way into their office networks to find the names I’m looking for.
