Page 45 of Haunting Goats

“Goddamn. You’re savage as fuck.” I say, impressed.

I lean in and peck her on the mouth, and she snickers. Wobbling around with his pants around his ankles, Jake sobs as he searches for something to tend to the wound. His dick looks like a burnt hot dog. It’ll still function, but in the meantime, no more boners or jerk-off sessions. That’ll be torture enough. The guy can’t go a day without whacking it.

There’s nothing in here to help him, and once he realizes that, he removes his pants the rest of the way and carefully climbs into the bed. His body vibrates from the stress and pain. He lies on his back and uses a magazine from under the pillow to fan out the mutilated area.

Jake sniffles, “Lyric, if you’re in here… fuck you.”

He quickly wipes the tears away from his eyes, knowing that it’s a good possibility that we’re still here and watching. He sounds defeated, and he confirms it as he falls asleep, coming down from all the adrenaline.

Moving fast, I bolt over to Jake and wrap the belt around his neck. I loop it around a pillar on the headboard and fasten it tight enough to hold his head in place. I cinch it a little more so that it clenches around his throat and closes his airway just enough.

“Perfect,” I say, and I stand back to admire my work.

Jake wakes up to the sudden pressure on his gullet. His eyes grow wide and he kicks his feet frantically as he attempts to leverage himself in a way that will allow him to loosen the belt. Unfortunately for him, I was in boy scouts as a kid. Nobody can do knots the way I can.

Thank you, Leader Pat and Troop No. 203.

I really did learn something useful.

Jake goes still and speaks through bubbles and spit, “It was you, wasn’t it? Show yourself, you dumb bitch.”

I look over at Lyr and back at Jake. I stand next to him, looking down at his disheveled body. He’s weak, and not just in his person, but in his mind. I reveal myself.

Jake shoves himself back against the headboard and pulls down on the belt, trying to put distance between the belt and his neck. Sweat pours down his face, running into his eyes and causing them to burn. He blinks rapidly while also looking at me.

He stutters, “Who the hell are you? Where’s Lyric?”

An ominous tone escapes me, “I’m the one who’s gonna help you.”

I smile wide. Unblinking. Unmoving. Jake gasps as he fails to loosen the belt, drool creeping down the side of his mouth and down his chin. Lyric’s hand touches my shoulder blade, and I turn to acknowledge her.

She pushes up on her tiptoes and places a soft kiss on my lips. She nods and I know she’s giving me permission to carry on.

“She’s here, isn’t she?” he gurgles.

“I knew she’d never leave me. Lyric always was my good girl. Plus, she’s incapable of doing anything on her own. She needs me.”

I grind my teeth, and my jaw clenches at his admission. Swinging around, I snag the cord from the blinds hanging over the only window in the room. I know this asshole is just trying to grate my nerves, but I’m already fed up with his bullshit. He never shuts up. Swear to God, he only talks so much because he loves to hear his own voice.

Not being a super social person, I realize pleasantries don’t really work for me. I pull the cord as far from the window as I possibly can and grab Jake by the dick. I wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole if I could avoid it, and sure as hell wouldn’t be touching his red rocket, but I’m motivated by my princess.

“Stop! What are you doing?”

Jake wiggles desperately, trying to get away from me.

“Stop!” he screams in a frenzy.

I wrap the cord continuously around the base of his length. He tries to fight me off with his hands, and the anger begins to boil over. I move quickly to retrieve my knife from my back pocket. Swiftly flipping the blade, I stab it right through Jake’s hand and into the hard mattress.

Jake cries out in pain.

“Jesus, fuck!”

He goes to yank the knife out, and I slap at his hand.

“Touch that knife or this cord and I will cut your fucking fingers off, one-by-one. Understand?”

He doesn’t respond; he’s a blubbering mess. He wheezes and chokes while I secure the cord and give it a little pat.