Dillon: A Wings of Diablo MC Novel by Lake, B. (rosie project txt) 📕

"You piece of shit!" Roth jerks in his direction as if he were going to strike the man for hitting me. Protecting me.

When the fuck did that shit start? I didn't have time to think about it, but I would address it eventually.

"Seems to me you don't know how to keep your feet to yourself. Let me help you?" Instead of the vice I pick up the knife and the hammer. I turn to Roth, "Make sure you are ready to stop the bleeding. This motherfucker is going to leak like a burst pipe in a second. "

"On it." He rushes and picks up quite a few more pieces of plastic along with the rope that we used to tie him up the first time. I hold down his leg the best that I could and quickly go to work on sawing his foot from his body. The man screams and bucks until he finally passes out. Once I get to the bone, I use the hammer to slam the knife through the hard material. Surpassing the bone, I continue to saw until his foot was completely clear of his body. It didn't take very long, but just as I predicted he began to bleed tremendously. Roth moves quickly first tying the rope around his lower leg and then cauterizing the stump with the plastic and fire.

Roth had brought along smelling salts and as I was getting ready to hack off his other foot, I use them to wake him up. I didn't want Dr. Strand to miss out on too much of the action. "What do you think? Did we stop the bleeding in time?"

He cries and big tears roll down his face. "Mmm, mmph, mmmm."

I could guess what he was saying, but I wasn't going to take the time to find out right now. Instead, I get back down to the other leg and continue the process of making sure he will never kick me again.

Once both of his feet are chopped off, I pull them out of his shoes and socks. I show them to him. His eyes roll back and I can hear him gagging. Vomit threatening to spew out of his raggedly cut up mouth. "Don't worry, I'm going to give them back." I look over to Roth, "Spikes." He rushes over to the bag, pulls out two railroad spikes and rushes them over to where I am.

"Hold him still. But stay on this side." I give him orders, but don't really make sure that he has paid attention. I settle one of the man’s feet over the upper part of his chest right where his trapezius muscle connects above his clavicle. I bring the spike back and slam it through the foot and impale it onto his body.

"Mmmmm!" Dr, Strand screams loud and an arch of bloody vomit spews out of his mouth. I sigh and go to wipe off my sisters’ picture again, but Roth is already doing it. He's like every sadist’s favorite apprentice.

I wait for him to finish and move over to the other side so I can do the same thing with the next foot.

It's been a few hours of this, but I feel like I could go on forever. Unfortunately, the good doctor is running out of body parts for me to take off. There are still some of the little ones left though.

I yank the man's pants off and go for the grater. His body convulses. Even Roth has to look away for a second as I hold the doctor’s shaft to quickly grate off small slivers of flesh and muscle from his cock. He passes in and out of consciousness three times before I'm finished. When I am done, his urethra and the various veins inside his genitalia are visible.

"Mmmm, mmm, mmmph." The man whimpers weakly. He would die from shock soon, not how I wanted him to go out.

"What was that? You know Roth. I think Dr. Strand is trying to tell us something. Maybe we ought to let him talk?"

"I think so." Roth plays along.

I reach behind the man’s head and unfasten the barbed wire that we've been using as a gag.

I rip it from his face like duct tape, tearing a large chunk of his cheek off with it.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Mercy. I'm sorry." He cries without moving his mouth.

"Mercy? Now you want mercy? Sorry. I don't have any of that to give."

I pull his head up and examine his neck, it's not very thick. I go to the bag and pick up the vice.

I open it as far as it will go and clamp it on his neck. This vice in particular has two metal plates attached to the ends, probably used to hold slats of wood together. Today it would be used to hold his fucking throat together. I position the plates on the front and back of his neck, then quickly begin to turn the lever. Fast enough that he didn't just suffocate since I want him to suffer even with his dying breath. The metal pressing harder and harder with no give on his neck. Very quickly I hear bones breaking and taut muscle squelching together as the space in his throat is forced closed. I walk to the front of him and see his footless legs furiously kicking back and forth. His tongue hangs out of his mouth like a dog and his eyes are bulging from their sockets. There was no wheezing, because there was no space for air to pass through his throat. I take another step closer to him and stare directly in his eyes as he slowly and painfully died. I relish in the look of fear in his eyes as death came for him.

Once it was done, I did feel slightly relieved, but I knew that it would never give Simone back the years that she had lost. I couldn't change the