| | :: Fanfic ::
The Night Hell Raised. Part Four
Author: Patricia Anne McCarty
Word Count: 816
Author's Notes: The Night Hell Raised is Rated R. This 7 part story is based on true events I learned about while watch a crime documentary. I felt terrible and wished there was something that could be done to these jerks that would hurt as bad as what they gave. So I am writing this in honor of the victim the report was about. Please be warned there are some gruesome scenes in this story.
The Night Hell Raised. Part Four
Rated R
WARNING Sexual content, Bloody Violence and explisive language
As I walk in the shack I’m hearin’ things I only hear in movies, the kind you take your girl to when you want her to jump in your lap and hold ya tight.
The smells that hit my nose make me want ta run right back out and puke. Stinky, dirty sweaty bodies, piss, fear and a fowl sent of fresh sex. By the time I hit the door I am already clear on what’s is going to happen.
I key in on the sound of metal clinkin’ together and follow it. I’m keepin’ out of sight, blending in the walls, when I spot an old man gathering rail road spikes from under the counter just by the stairs leading to the second floor.
“Old f**k, he aughta be a shamed of himself,” I think as I once again ball my hands into fist tring’ ta hold the beast back. It’s gettin’ harder.
Next thing I’m seein’ are about 3 walking peices of pure filth standin’ in line waitn’ for their turn.
Each one pays about $300.00 dollars per spike, then they are sent to talk to the “boss” about how much they gotta shell out for the girl.
As the last man leaves, I walk up to the counter. I look that old bastard right in his eyes, and just stand there. He hands me a spike and states $300.00 and then tells me I gatta wait my turn.
“I aint here for that.” I state in a deep quit even toned voice. My eyes never leave his.
He has the nerve to look confused.
“What is it you want then?” he ask me in a short “your waistin’ my time” voice tone. Then he rolls his eyes at me, like he’s annoyed.
The anger builds and I let the beast loose. I don’t say a word, just snatch him by his shirt and pull him across the counter. I punch, then pop right in to his chest rippin’ him up from under the ribs and out threw the left shoulder. He doesn’t even have time to scream before his body hits the floor with a splat. Blood’s pourin’ out of him startin’ to form a river. Messin’ up my best boots! I growl a low deep growl and drive that spike he handed me right smack in the middle of his head.
Now I’m brethin’ hard, tring to maintain my rasional side, if that is even possible at this point. I walk up the stairs. I can smell HIM.
I hear him talkin’ to the 3 other men. They’re tryin’ to out bid each other. Highest bidder get’s the girl. The other wait for the next victim.
They can keep waitin’.
I get to the landing of the stairwell and I see ‘em. He’s just as ugly as police drawing. BIG. that’s the word I’d use, big. Guy’s about 6 foot 10 if he’s an inch.
I grin. He spots me. Big don’t bother me none. The bigger… the better.
“Who the f**k are you!? What the Hell do you want gringo?” He spouts off.
I don’t say nothing, the others just standin’ there like they’re waiting on his orders.
I start walking closer, they start coming in at me. Their mistake.
Ain’t even gonna waist sweat on these wussys, I pop my 3 12’ blades, and drop them like the sacks of nuts they are. I save big ugly for last. Got special plans for him. Real special.
Now I’m thinkin’ it’s just me and him when I see from the corner of my eye, laying on a bed, the white chick. Nude. She’s gagged and tied good and tight. She’s cryin’ and shakin’ scared to death.
Big ugly takes off jumpin’ out the window leaving a trail of fear behind. I let him go, for now. I got his scent, he ain’t gettin’ far.
I sniff the air and listen real close, no one else around. My blades retract and I walk over to the girl. I kneel by her side and tell her I’m here to help.
“It’s OK I ain’t gonna hurt ya, I’m here to get ya out of here.” I try to comfort her as best I can. It takes a few, but she calms down and I remove the gag and ropes.
She’s a pretty little thing, you can tell that even under all the black buses and rope burns. Blond. Not more than 20.
Lookin’ at her, I KNOW how she feels. I know all too well what it feels like to be forced to do something ya don’t want to do, to be somewhere you don’t want to be.
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