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  Don’t do it, don’t give them the satisfaction.

  “Ok, well looks like we need a nice ice breaker, something to tear down the walls that are locking you out.” The skinny man turned to the table and reached down for a hammer. He wrapped his fingers around the handle and raised it high. With one quick whack half of Debbie’s front teeth shot out and skipped across the blood stained wooden floor. Blood poured from her mouth as she screamed in agony. “Did that do it? Did it?”

  Again Debbie ignored the man as she tried to get herself focused. With blurry vision she looked up at her captor. Was that a turban on his head? She didn’t understand him well, was he speaking Arabic?

  Come on Debbie get your shit together girl.

  “No huh? Well I guess-“

  “What do you want to know?” Debbie mubbled as more teeth dislodged themselves and fell in her lap. This brought a smile to the skinny man’s face. He knew she was tough, but to be this unbreakable so early in the game made him realize it would be a challenge to have her begging for death. He loved a good challenge. For now he kneeled down at the girl’s feet and smiled.

  “I want to know what such a beautiful girl like you is doing getting caught up with a bunch of serial killers.”

  “I guess bad luck. Sucks sometimes ya know.” Her casualness infuriated the man. His smile dropped off his face and he quickly rose to his feet.

  “You know who I am, don’t you?”

  “Some loser who women refuse to fuck so you resort to mutilating them?”

  “Exactly.” The man turned to the table and reached down for a mask. It was a ceramic mask, a demonic looking thing colored red. It looked Japanese. With quivering hands the small man pulled the mask closer and onto his face. Once it was on he snapped up and Debbie knew she was now looking at a different person. The masked man turned back to the table and reached down. He picked up a stainless steel instrument. It looked almost like a long needle. He held it up.

  “What’s that?”

  “Trocar.” And without giving her a second further to contemplate what this tool was it was jammed into her right eye. She screamed out in pain as she jerked on the chair. She watched out her good eye and saw the man place the other end into the mouth of the mask, and then into his own mouth. He seemed to be using the device like a straw. With a menacing smile the blood spilled down his mouth and dripped off his chin.

  The Trocar was pulled free and before she could recover his bony finger jammed forward and reached deep into her skull. She felt the digit wrap around something elastic inside her head and pull. At that moment, like a television turning off during a power outage, the eye stopped working as the man pulled the gooey mass from her socket.

  The man looked down and shook his head. He saw the floor was now covered with urine and feces. “My god, you shit yourself.”

  “Sorry sweetie…” That’s right Debbie, stay strong. “…but you are…” Don’t give him what he wants. “…going to have to do a lot better if you want to get me to beg.”

  The masked man dropped the eye. He turned his head sideways as he studied her. A low laugh came from within the mask, a laugh similar to that of a demon.

  “Challenge accepted.”

  ***

  Tanner and Chad were watching the television while Pat was in the back with the girl. Tanner had his first part fulfilled by seducing her, Chad got to hunt her and now Pat would break her. When all three got their fill they would kill her together. They patiently waited as they watched the whole show on the television from a live feed.

  “He really is sick, ya know?” Tanner laughed. “I mean, Jesus. He just jammed a solder iron up her ass.”

  “That’s bad but not as bad I think as when he cut off her pussy lips and then jammed the nail covered dildo up her cunt.”

  “Really, you think that is worse.” Tanner asked, almost like the two were discussing musical tastes.

  “Oh hell yeah I do. Listen, a little burning in yer cornhole is prolly like extreme hemorrhoids. The pussy torture, shit man there isn’t nothing like it.”

  “I supposed I can see your logic.”

  “Looks like it’s coming to an end. Get ready Tanner.”

  ***

  Pat used garden sheers to cut her lips off. He used a blow torch on her tits and with a lock cutter removed every toe on her right foot. He cut her loose, tossed her to the floor and beat her with a barbed wire covered baseball bat. She screamed in pain, hollered but never begged. She never gave her torturer the satisfaction. When her screaming fit was complete and she regained her composure she began laughing manically.

  This goddamn bitch has lost her mind.

  He was done, there was no more playing around. He would break her, even if it killed her. He turned to the table and picked up a hammer and a hook like bladed weapon used for filleting. He stood over the woman as she lay in her own piss, shit and blood. She laughed hysterically as the blood from her toothless and lipless mouth spilled on the ground. She looked up at Pat and even gave him the middle finger before busting out laughing. The laughter stopped as the hammer came across her face, shattering her jaw.

  “No more playing around.” Pat pulled the mask from his face and tossed it across the room. It shattered when it hit the wall. He took a knee and with the hammer in his hand he smashed down onto her right arm, right above the wrist. He pounded until the spot on the arm looked like a thin fabric of flesh. He then took the blade and cut her hand off. “Oh we aren’t done yet sweetheart.”

  He then took the knife and started at the elbow. He skinned her arm, right down to the white bone. After a few moments the broken and splintered bone was exposed. Pat laughed as the door bust open.

  “What the fuck guys?” He hollered. “I’m not done.”

  “You goddamn idiot, you’re going to kill her.” Tanner yelled.

  “I’m not.”

  “Look at her, she’s nearly dead.” And they were right. The woman was no longer laughing, too weak to do much else other than breath and exist, and even that was expiring. Like a disappointed child Pat slumped down and shook his head. “It’s not fair. She’s so damn stubborn.”

  “Get your pictures and let’s do this.” Chad demanded. Pat looked up at the two but knew this wasn’t open for debate.

  “Fine.” Pat dropped the blade on the floor next to the hammer and stood up. This next part was usually his favorite, taking the picture, but something felt wrong. He didn’t get her to beg, didn’t get her to break. He felt like he had met his match. And then he felt the crack.

  The hammer smashed down on his foot. He felt every time bone in his extremity break into a million pieces as the pain shot up his body. Pat dropped to his knees and before he could react to the assault the hook blade entered his throat, tearing his esophagus out. It hung from the hole like a dead snake spilling blood. Pat reached up and as the world around him grew dark he saw the woman staring him in his eyes with a smile. The dried blood, the mutilated face, the eyeless socket; he was looking right at death as he slowly made his exit from this world and into the next.

  ***

  Chad nearly pissed himself when he saw the woman smash Pat’s foot with the hammer. When she took the blade to him he nearly shit himself. How on earth could such a woman as this exist? How on earth could she have this much strength, this much fight left in her? She was a prodigy, something Chad had never seen before.

  Debbie dropped the blade and retrieved the hammer as she slowly rose to her feet and for the first time in Chad’s life he felt fear. He didn’t even know what the feeling was at first. He felt his stomach was sick, his heart fluttering, his skin became covered in goose bumps and he realized it was all fear. He feared this woman.

  Tanner rushed her. He never let a woman take him, so sir. He was the male, the dominant and all women were submissive. They fell to him, not the other way around. He was so blinded with anger that he didn’t realize she still held the hammer and when it came up and smashed him in the face he fell down at her
feet. His beautiful face was now a bloodied mess of smashed meat. He tried to function but everything was moving so fast. He was dizzy from the blow. She knelt down and with the hammer she continued to smash in his head. She smashed until the skull cracked open with a sickening sound and the grey brains fell out like bloodied cauliflower. Chad didn’t move, he was mesmerized by it all. He was taken back.

  The woman rose from Chad’s corpse, this woman naked and covered in bodily waste and blood. Her jaw hung useless from thin strands of muscle, toothless and shattered. Her right eye was missing. Blood poured from her mutilated pussy, her tits were black and charred. Her right hand was gone and all that remained of that arm from the elbow down was about eight inches of splintered bone. The woman didn’t scream, didn’t yell, and didn’t laugh; she just stood there and breathed. This woman had already killed two of the nation’s worst modern serial killers.

  “I’ve been looking for you.” Tears began to flow from Chad’s eyes. He smiled and wiped them with a shaking hand. “For a long time I looked. I thought I’d never find you. Please, go ahead and do it.”

  She dropped the hammer. She looked at the pathetic man as he blubbered before her. He wanted to die. She would oblique. The corpse like woman screamed and ran toward Chad. He closed his eyes and opened his arms as if he was accepting the lord into his life. The animalistic woman dove on him, knocking him over and onto the ground. Like a savage beast sent from hell she used the splintered bone of her right arm to stab the man. She screamed as blood soaked her body and she manically continued to rip him open with her broken bone.

  Chad never once screamed, he welcomed the death; finally feeling peace.

  Aftetwards

  This collection of tales I hold dear to my heart. Many of these stories I lugged around for many years in various states of completion. Some have changed so much since conception that there is barely any way to relate them to what they once were. Here are some commentaries on a few of the stories within this book.

  The Reunion:

  This tales was originally written in 2000 for a creative writing class in High School. The subject matter was much different. The story of the distraught woman trying to piece together her past was still the focal point, but other than this all similarities end.

  In the original story we find Laura at the mercy of her deranged brother. She thought he was killed, but in fact he was adopted and when he returned to the house, also seeking answers, the darkness within the house transformed him and he had never been able to leave since. Laura is tied to a basement beam and she is mutilated by the brother who chops off her leg. She manages to knock him unconscious as she kicks him in the face with her good leg. She knows she is about to die but wants to destroy this house so she kicks over a candle and engulfs the house in flames, with both her and her brother still in it.

  Mortuary Child:

  This story had so many goddamn endings. In one ending Steve ends up raising the demon child and feeding it scraps from corpses. The child lives in the walls until adulthood when Steve sends it out on it’s own. In another version the cops show up and they shoot the demon child. The child doesn’t die, it scurries off and Steve is arrested temporarily. Years later he is in his house remembering the events when he sees the demon child, all grown up now, standing in his living room. Yet another version appeared in the story Necrochild.

  Hell Birth:

  The purpose for this tale was to cover a topic I find revolting. That’s right, I find something sick. The topic I am talking about is incest. During my time writing this there were two popular shows on television. One was Dexter (about the serial killer who kills serial killers) and there was Boardwalk Empire (the 1920’s Volstead Act New Jersey mob tale). In Dexter we discover that Dexter’s sister, Deb, has romantic feelings to her half-brother. In Boardwalk Empire Jimmmy Darmody has sex with his attractive mother. Years prior, in the show Six Feet Under we saw another brother sister sexual story. The truth is that television is promoting this genre by making it sexy.

  Jimmy Darmody is an attractive man and his mother is a very sexy woman. We are romanticizing and beautifying something so vile. So what I decided to do was tell the same tale, but of a father and daughter (which is far less accepting) and re-tell it from aa disgusting, filthy cellar with gross rednecks. Throw in a little infanticide and we got a cocktail of revolt. Take that Hollywood.

  Visitors to the Widow Bane:

  This is a wonderful tale, a horror fairy tale of sorts. I love to discuss this tale because of how the idea was developed. It was in 2002 and I was sitting outside the house of one of my ex-girlfriends and smoking a cigarette. The night before I had drank heavily and because of this my head was still swimming a little. In a small garden were six statues. They were of frogs. They each held a small instrument in their hand and wore weird colonial era clothing. Something so simple can spawn a story, so observe everything.

  Translucence:

  This story was by far my hardest to develop. The inspiration came from a song by the death metal band “Broken Hope”, a song called Translucence. I found this to be a horrifying deformity in which I’d even I would have a hard time treating someone as a human if I was confronted with a person suffering an extreme version of this ailment.

  In the original tale the child was in his teens. I changed it to eight when I read that this was the last year before a child found reason psychologically. I also flirted with many different scenerios. In one version a neighbor reports abuse and a social worker discovers the monster child and helps the mother kill it. In another the child kills his mother and puts her skin on his body to appear normal. In an alternate ending the child is taken to the Department of Social Services when his mother is discovered dead, put in Juvenile hall for a little bit, and released a changed person. He becomes successful and even marries.

  If you enjoy this book please leave a comment on Amazon. I am an independent author and rely on the reader to get my name out there. Thanks for reading my work.

  About the Author

  John Putignano was born in the Greater Boston area and has attended Worcester State College. He has served in the Army National Guard and currently lives in North Carolina with his wife and three children. He has written the novel “Pleasures in Putrefaction” and the novella “Flesh of Society: A Tale of Redneck Noir”.

  www.malkuth.us

  [email protected]

  Table of Contents

  Long Pig

  Torture Porn

  Hell Birth

  The Shut-In

  Visitors to the Widow Bane

  The Thin Grey Men

  The Incident at Bleak Ridge Lake

  Translucence

  The Nebraska Moloch

  Mortuary Child

  The Odd Tale of Isabella and Lady Bellamy

  The Head

  Way Down in the Hole

  The Incident at Bleak Ridge Lake

  Reunion in Hell

  The Corpse Whore

  NECROCHILD

  Corpse Farm