Chapter 3 || Madness 

“You!” Caleb growled and I have to stifle a laugh because he looked pathetic acting tough when all I could picture him was a pig ready to roast over the burning embers.

“Yes?” I asked innocently, battling my eyes for effect.

“You are just a myth.” Nicholas breathed like he was in a dream. My head snapped in his direction as I barked out a laugh after hearing what he said.

Sure, I am.

Eight years ago.

Six months of living on the streets were absolute hell. So when a woman who wore bright red lipstick asked me if I wanted to take shelter in an orphanage promising food, clothes, and a warm bed I didn't hesitate to say yes. I should have known better.

The orphanage was just a front. It was a den and training ground for prostitution and would-be killers. And it took me a month after my first ‘foster home’ to finally break free from their clutches. I had lost my virginity at the early age of ten, stolen at the dead of the night by pedophiles pretending to be loving foster parents.

Too bad I hadn't killed my whole foster family. Not yet anyway.

Enraged at the people that sold me, I set the orphanage on fire.

That's when the story of my existence started to circulate.

They had called me The Reaper.

After I started the fire on my old orphanage I was seen by the whole Brakstone City perched on the burning building, holding the scythe with a cloth coiled around my face. It was the same scythe that I had killed my father and the same cloth he'd worn as he died. And it hadn't matter if I'm just a child at that time their fear had made me an enormous monster in their eyes.

Surprisingly, it hadn't bothered me and for the first time in years, I found myself smiling. Their pain-filled scream was like music to my ears as the fire licks their skin marking them, making their nightmare a reality. Before the building burned to the ground I made sure that they all had a good look at me. I want them to remember me on every waking day of their lives. I want them to hear my laugh as they burned and writhed in pain.

And when they hear my name being spoken, they'll crawl to the ground to find a safe place to hide. I want to torture them in every fucking second of their useless existence. And I want my face flashed before their eyes as death take his prize.

“I'm not.” Caleb eyed me warily while Nicholas stared at me intently. His brows furrowed, deep in thought.

“You look like you haven't finished high school yet, so why don't you take this wire off of us? I promise we'll let you live.” Caleb said in a cajoling voice.

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“It means you'll all gonna die tonight.”

I stepped a few feet away from Caleb and Nicholas to retrieve the tools and knives I scavenge earlier in the storage room while they're still asleep. Then, I drag them near the butcher table with a frustrated huff.

“You'll regret this, sweetheart.” Caleb's voice took a threatening turn as he glared at me with contempt.

“What's that?” I ‘tsk’ at their fear-stricken faces as I took out two old butcher knives from the toolbox.

“I never regret anything in my life,” I muttered shrugging my shoulders while inspecting the sharp edge of the knives.

“Trust me, sweetheart you'll regret this. You're too young to be doing this,”

I looked at Caleb with wonder in my eyes. “I killed my father and I don't feel a thing. I don't know if killing the three of you would make a difference though.”

“Sweetheart–”

I dropped the tools, knives included with clang on the butcher table where Antonio was strapped, making him stir from his slumber. By the looks of it, he was already starting to gain consciousness.

“Caleb, did you regret killing Mr. Lockhart?” I asked.

“I did,” He nodded somberly.

“Lies,” I sang in a falsetto voice.

He grunted.

I grinned at him even if he can't see it. “Now, if both you ready, I want to start now. I still have homework that needs to be finished at home.”

“Look–”

“Guys, what's happening?” My head automatically turned towards Antonio who was now trying to sit up.

“There's no use, Antonio. But the good news is you'll gonna die first.”

As if on cue the three of them struggle to escape from their binds making them look like worms.

Pathetic worms.

“Ah-ah-ah” I wagged my finger at their faces, taunting them.

“I want the both of you to see this,” I said looking at the two brothers. The Salazar brothers are known on the black market for having ruthless hearts. I'm just not sure if they could still stay indifferent when they see the people they care for slowly die in an excruciating death.

I flashed them a smile as I walk around the table and spotted the pliers on the toolbox. Perfect.

“Antonio, how much do you love your nails?” He opened his mouth then close it, then open them again.

“I…I.” He crooked out.

His adam’s apple bobbed and his face pales seeing the pliers on my hand. “Not so tough now, are you?”

“Pl-please.” He begged. His face was masked with fear, horror, and helplessness.

“Perfect!” I clapped my hands in mocked delight.

“No, please.”

“This will sting but you’ll be fine.” I cooed in fake concern.

Then the torture began. I pulled out his nails piece after piece taking a minute of intervals before the next. I can hear their screams and shouts of both agony and rage making me smile in satisfaction.

I'm just glad the whole shop was soundproof.

“These would be a good addition to my collection,” I informed him absentmindedly while reaching for the bleach on the cabinet below the table.

“This would hurt but you'll live,” I mumble as I washed his wounds with bleach. Scream after scream erupted from his mouth while his body convulsed uncontrollably as the pain intensified.

“Pl-please ju-just ki…kil…kill me.” He croaked out in a barely audible voice before passing out.

“Nah! Where would be the fun in that.” I said in a very bored voice.

I picked up the pliers again after grabbing the scissors from the box before facing the brothers. “Okay, so who’s next?” I eyed the two Salazar. Nicholas was still trying to escape from his binds while Caleb visibly fainted. I step closer to look closely at Caleb’s face, his handsome, yes. He will be a good boy toy if not in his present predicament. I tried to pry open his mouth and he did without a fight. Good boy.

“CAL! WAKE UP YOU FUCKING IDIOT! DON’T DO THIS NOW. WAKE UP!”

“Oh, hush will you,” I said not looking at Nicholas. My attention was still on the sleeping form of Caleb, his mouth now wide open. Then without hesitation, I tightly clasped his tongue with the bloody pliers, jerking it out to make it longer while I positioned the scissors on my other hand.

“Got it!” I held it triumphantly, grinning from ear to ear. Caleb’s eye abruptly opened in shock while trying to wiggle out his tongue from the pliers’ grasp.

I breathed in annoyance.

“Will you stop moving?! I’m working here.” In my irritation, I clutched the pliers more tightly making him open his mouth wider. Then without realizing his mistake, I cut his tongue near the base without hesitation.

What can I say? That was a damn perfect opportunity.

He screamed in the sudden jolt of pain. His screams and sobs were almost unrecognizable as blood bubbled and gushed from his mouth like Niagara falls.

I threw him a smile before turning my attention to his tongue wiggling in between the pliers. I've never seen anything more fascinating in my life.

“SHIT CALEB! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, YOU WITCH!” Nicholas was trashing while shouting at me profanities that were more colorful than the damn rainbow.

I look at him blankly while deliberately stepping closer to him. I saw him flinch as I squatted at his eye level just staring at him, dropping the tongue on the floor. Then my hand reached for the duck tape on the stool where I tie him before cutting a reasonable length to shut his mouth.

“As much as I want to hear your voice I don't think my ears could take any more of your hollering.”

“YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH! LET ME GO!” Spittle sprayed from his lips as he shouted at my face. But since time was precious, I didn’t wipe it instead I pushed his brother’s tongue on his wide-open mouth before quickly covering it with the duck tape.

I stared at him in amusement as he was making a disgusting gagging noise.

“It's not that gross you know. Just imagine you're swapping spit with your girlfriend.”

His eyes almost bulged from its socket the second I mention a girlfriend. I tilted my head. “I know your girlfriend,” I said in a flat voice.

Like a man possessed, he trashed and tried to wiggle free from his bind. But it was no use.

“Do you love her?” I was met with hell in his eyes.

“Perfect!” I cheered clapping my hands.

“Now for the next part.”

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