I Never Told You What I Do For A Living

(Frank’s P.O.V) Monday morning, 1:48am

I slowly make my way through the trees, being careful not to trip in the pitch black. I brace myself as the girl struggles to get free. She whimpers, not being able to scream with the gag on. As we come across a derelict medieval style mansion her struggling becomes more urgent.
Large amber eyes beg me to let go, a silent plea that will never be granted.
My arms instinctively tighten, making her efforts to escape futile. Tears start sliding down her face as I drag her up the driveway, her heels digging up the weeds in the gravel.
The door flies open with a loud bang as I haul her up the crumbling old steps leading to the porch, making her jump in my arms, just as Bob saunters out with a lazy smile playing across his face. I grunted as the girl elbowed me violently in the ribs, the sharp pain causing my eyes to water and release my grip on her. Bob immediately surges forward and pulls her to him by her hair. I watched her squirm in terror with satisfaction as he throws her over his shoulder in one fluid movement, while making his way back into the house with me in tow. ‘My Crime Against Humanity’ came blasting out of my old stereo from second floor, adding to the overall gloom permeating the rest of the house. I started muttering the lyrics to myself as we made our way to my basement room.

So I'll take these pills to erase my crime.
And I will kill the infected one at a time.
Angel, save me from myself.
Please get me out, please get me out.
Angel, grace me with your help.
Please get me out, please get me out.
Now I taste the bitter sweet. It retains misery.
Now that I've had my dance. Was it worth it?

I become silent once more as we enter my black oasis. Bob lets the girl hit the floor with a loud thump, stepping back swiftly. She stumbled clumsily to her feet, untying the gag. Her brown hair was knotted about her face in the chaos of her attempted escape, makeup running down her pale face. She had on a baby blue singlet and white shorts barley covering her thin body. The bright colours stood out against the black and gray room surrounding her.
She was visibly shaking in shock and fear. Wide brown eyes flickered from me to Bob. I felt a sinister smile split open my face as her tears started up again.
“So, what’s your name sweet cheeks?” I purred, swaggering to the other side of my room and switching on the kettle that took up permanent residence on my bedside table.
“Coffees’ all I got.” I informed Bob while filling three mugs with heaven. He shrugged.
“You gotta answer him, poppet.”Bob addressed the shivering girl again, smirking as he leant up against the doorframe and crossed his arms.
Ba-bang, ba-bang, ba-bang started down the hallway, increasing in volume as whoever was coming to a halt just before the open door. A small white hand came sliding around the doorframe before half a head came into view. I watched as Mary’s face lit up. She slipped across the threshold into the rapidly crowded room, her dark hair curling gently around her pale face.
“RUN!” The older girl yelled at Mary, staggering forward as she mistook her for a harmless child.
Mary smiled evilly, a devilish glint in her eyes.
“Now why would I do that?” she murmured to herself as she came further into the room.
“Who a-a-are you people.” The older girl stuttered. I watched as all the fight left her. Realisation sinking in that she wouldn’t be getting out.
“She speaks!” I sniggered before launching into the introductions. “I’m Frank. This is Bob” I said gesturing to the blond by the door. “And this is my sister Mary.” I said unconcerned about who knew our names, the new girl wasn’t leaving the house alive anyway.
“Mary was just leaving.” I handed out the freshly brewed coffee, giving Mary a ‘we’ll talk about this later’ look.
Mary smiled at the older girl before leaving the room giggling madly. Everyone in the room stayed quite as we listened to Mary’s maniacal laughter quieten as she disappeared into the house. Bob was the first to snap back into reality.
“Are you gonna answer the question? What’s your name?” Bob snarled clearly pissed off at having to wait so long.
“J-Jamia”
“Don‘t be scared we don‘t bite. Actually, scratch that, we do!” Bob and I both started laughing hysterically once the words left his lips.
“Any last name?” I ask, wiping the tears from my face.
“Nestor.” Her voice was scratchy and weak, it looked as though she was about to collapse.
“Hmm, Jamia Nestor.” I mused, “What a plain name for such a pretty girl. Shame you’re not my type.”
“Yeah Frank likes them tall, dark and handsome.” Bob sniggered from the corner.
“And male.” I snapped, irritably.
“Yep, unlike me that likes them slutty and small.” he said moving his eyebrows suggestively.
“Are you gonna drink that?”I asked gesturing to the untouched drink in the now named Jamia’s hands, ignoring Bob.
Jamia just stood there, full coffee almost spilling from the amount of shaking her body generated. When it became obvious she wasn’t going to answer Bob swept in, finishing her coffee.
I clapped my hand together making her jump.
“Well let’s get started then.” I said in a delighted voice.
“What are you going to do to me?’ she whispered, shrinking into herself and huddling against the wall behind her.
Bob and I exchanged a sly look.
“Whatever we want poppet.” Bob piped up, rapping his beefy hand around Jamia’s arm.
She struggled in his grip, arms and legs flailing, striking out at anything that came near her. Bob grabbed the empty mug with his free hand; bringing it to the back of her head with such force it knocked her out cold, a smug look covering his face all the while.
“And that’s how it’s done.” I felt myself smirking at Bob’s ways.
I went to the opposite side of the room sliding back a large gothic style armchair and folding over the black fluffy carpet to reveal a small wooden trapdoor, the brass metal ring glinting up at me through the dust, begging to be opened. I pulled at the locks, shivering with anticipation as the door raised and a harsh chill issued from the hole in the floor.
I flicked an old switch in the wall on the way down the stairs to the secret lower basement, a naked bulb flicked to life up ahead, illuminating the grey stone flags. A large wooden table sat in the middle of the room, dried blood dying the timber dark. Shelves line the walls, filled with every type of saw, knife and axe. Blow torches hung from the bottom of the table along with nails and hammers. This was a serial killers dream room.
Bob threw the girl on the table, strapping her wrist when I worked on her ankles. Now we just had to wait for her to wake up.
(Time Lapse)
She groaned as she came to, squinting at the harsh lights above her. Her eyes widened as the last few hours came flooding back. She started thrashing to get free as her eyes surveyed the room, pupils contracted massively as her body shuddered with abject horror.
“The straps aren’t working very well.” Bob stated from the other side of the table.
“I’m sure we can fix that.” I whispered sending Jamia a sadistic smile.
My eyes found the longest nails we had, imagination sparking at what I could do with them. I pinched the skin on her arm to the table with the nail, Bob having to hold her down as I brought up the hammer.
She shrieked as the nail went through her skin allowing blood to trickle onto the table. I put another nail in her other arm watching the blood pool. I moved down to her knees placing another nail on her knee as Bob did the same to the other. The hammer came down hard on the nail, pushing it through bone and skin effectively attaching her to the table, Bob’s hammer coming down a second later. Her screams became louder making me grin. I looked at her tear covered face. She had her eyes screwed shut with pain.
I left the table collecting a scalpel, tweezers and pliers. I grabbed her long nails with the pliers pulling them off one by one. Listening to her screams echo around the room as her nerve ends got ripped off.
“I don’t know about you but my ears are starting to hurt.” Bob said unexpectedly.
“Go get the metal prod then. Oh and the needle and thread.” Bob raised an eyebrow before wandering off to do my bidding.
“You’re gonna want to see what I’m about to do to you.” I said to Jamia lifting her eyelid with the tweezers and slowly sliding the scalpel over it. Watching as it came off and her eye filled with blood, dropping both her eyelids on the floor once they were removed.
Bob came back shortly afterwards, dropping the latest items on her stomach. I passed the bloodied scalpel to him as I started heating the prod, only stopping when the tip glowed orange. Bob pulled out her tongue with the tweezers cutting it off with the scalpel. She tried to scream, choking on her own blood while Bob wrenched open her mouth sealing the wound with the glowing hot prod.
Jamia was forced to swallow her blood, unable to spit it out. Bob watched me intently as I threaded the needle and pushed it through her lips, crisscrossing till her screams were muffled.
I turned on the blowtorch starting at her ankle and making my way up her right leg, watching as the skin bubbled and melted, running over her leg. The smell of burning flesh and fabric surrounded me as the blow torch ran over her clothes. Her muffled scream become even louder as the melted fabric mixed with her skin. I stopped at her collar bone observing my handy work. Bob took the blowtorch bringing it to her bloodied eyes. The heat caused her eyeballs to pop in seconds making her lose consciousness from the pain.
I grinned over at Bob.
“Well, that was fun!”

Notes

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