There's a new class of rookies that just graduated and they're getting trained at the office, so I had to prepare a presentation for them and I gave it this morning. Tomorrow, I'm also testing and grading them to see if they fully understand compliance, and I know you don't care, but this is why it took forever to publish this chapter.
Now that Cartman is behind bars and that Scott's revenge is complete, it's time to focus a little more on Trent.
Without further ado, please enjoy and don't forget to review.
The tension between Scott and I has been palpable as of late. He knows I'm running out of patience for him to keep up his end of the deal. I did what I was told to do in order to put his half brother behind bars, and don't get me wrong, I'm absolutely ecstatic over the fact that one of my vendettas has been successful, but I'm still missing four other targets. Whenever I ask him, he just dismisses me and tells me we'll deal with it at a later date. I will not stand for such bullshit any longer.
"Scott, we need to talk." I say firmly.
Scott was in the middle of playing darts on his special dart board when I approach him to have this conversation.
"Not now Trent, I'm busy meditating." He says, attempting to dismiss me once again.
As I said, I will not tolerate his bullshit any longer. I wait for him to be finished throwing all the darts he has in his hands, then I swiftly get to the dart board, before Scott has time to get up from his armchair, and take the damn thing off the wall. I turn around to face him.
"I will snap your little toy in half if you don't sit the fuck down and listen to what I have to say. Understood?" I spit.
Scott slowly sits back down. In a way, Scott and Cartman have a bunch of common traits: they're both master manipulators, they're both obsessive and they both hate when people touch their little toys.
"What do you want, Trent?" He asks, although he should know better.
"I need your full cooperation to get back to Stan Marsh, Kenny McCormick, Kyle Broflovski and Butters Stotch, just like you promised." I demand.
Scott lets out a sigh. "Trent, I don't think it's the right time-"He starts.
"To hell with what you think! It's been two months, Scott! I will not wait any longer!" I brashly reply, cutting him off.
Scott stares at me for a few moments prior to opening his mouth. "Very well; I'll ask Foley to keep an eye on these four guys."
That just put a smile on my face. "Thank you." I tell him before I turn around to put his favorite toy back on the wall where it belongs.
While Scott is on the phone with Foley, I glance over at the television: the news is on and they're talking about Eric Cartman getting his court date six months from now, in October. I burst into laughter when I hear that the lawyer that will represent the State of Colorado will be Gerald Broflovski. I heard that Kyle's dad is a brilliant lawyer and hopefully, he gets Cartman capital punishment, or even a life sentence. I am strongly considering framing the four others simply for the fact that it is a very appropriate way to get back at them.
"Foley said he'll start tonight. Since Broflovski and Stan are practically neighbors, he's going to park his car near the houses and start the stalking process. He said he'll text you if he finds anything major." Scott tells me as he puts his phone away in his pocket.
"Are you sure it's a good idea to still have him around? I mean, after what you and I did to his cousin, it's kind of awkward to have him work with us still."
Scott starts laughing maniacally. "As far as he knows, she was killed by Eric Cartman's hand. Stop worrying so much: he doesn't suspect a thing, nor will he ever find out the truth. It's our little secret." He says as he gives me three encouragement pats on the shoulder, one of his creepy smiles forming on his tired face.
Not worrying is easier said than done: should he discover what really happened to Annie, I fear that he'd go to the authorities and let them know what really went on and should that happen, Scott and I would be in a world of troubles and all this scheming will have been in vain.
"You don't seem too convinced, Trent." Scott adds as he meticulously examines my face.
No shit! If I get convicted for murder, with the criminal record I have, I'd be locked away for a hell of a long time. The worst that could happen to Scott is going back to the mental ward: he has the money to pay a good lawyer and he's got the medical record to convincingly plead insanity. I'm getting the short end of the stick, and Scott doesn't want me to worry... Foley better remain oblivious as to what happened.
"Whatever Scott. I just hope to God you're right." I say as I make my way to the front door: I need some fresh air.
"Where are you off to?" He asks.
I chose to ignore him as I let myself out. Seriously, fuck him.
I've been wandering outside for a long while now: the sun has set hours ago, but I still have little desire to go back home to Scott. I went around all of South Park, as far off as Mr. Denkin's ranch which is at the other end of town, to try to clear my head. It was really cool to be fed, clothed and sheltered by Scott, but I hate what I've become because of him. For two months now, I've been living with the guilt: if only Annie kept cooperating, I wouldn't have had to kill her. I wouldn't have had to hear Lizzie's desperate voice on the phone when she called me to share the terrible news. I wouldn't have had to see her with a red face, puffy eyes and tears streaming down her cheeks. Her older brother was just as devastated, but he was also livid at me: he yelled at me, accusing me of being a lousy boyfriend to his cousin because I failed to protect her. If he ever discovered it was I who pulled the trigger, I am afraid of what he'd do to me. The day Cartman's arrest was made public and that the news said he's be sent to Alamosa, Foley immediately called me and asked me to have some of my old fellow convicts beat the crap out of him, request that I granted with pleasure: I'll do anything to keep suspicions down.
I just made my way back from the ranch and I've been roaming close to Scott's house, in case I get too cold or too tired and might have to reluctantly go back. I was sitting on one of the benches at Stark's pond when my phone vibrated twice: I got a text from Foley.
Marsh is at Vatican. He just bought Ivy a shot and they chatted. She just left his table.
Excellent! Buy her a shot and ask her some questions about Marsh.
Understood - I'll keep you posted.
I look up at the stars: I wonder why Marsh went to Vatican tonight. It would be funny if, since Cartman is out of the picture, he's trying to hook up with her. I haven't seen her since the day Annie died, but I clearly remember how Cartman and she were around each other and I highly doubt she'll be interested.
Ever since my release, I never took the time to look up at the stars: they're gorgeous! I decide to lie down on the bench and just gaze at them for a little while. Other than the big and the small dipper, I sadly don't know any constellations and I think I'm due for a trip to the planetarium. After about ten minutes of staring, my phone vibrates again.
All I could get out of her is that she claims Cartman is innocent and that Marsh keeps an eye on her because Cartman fears for her life.
Does that mean he regularly goes to Vatican?
Maybe. I don't know. I'll come more often and keep you posted. I can't believe she thinks fatso is innocent.
I smirk as I straighten myself up and put my phone away: maybe Scott is right. Maybe, having Foley around isn't such a bad thing. Maybe Foley is too inattentive to figure it out. My thoughts are interrupted the crunching sound of snow being stepped on. I look around myself to find the source of that sound and notice the silhouette of someone jogging on the trail behind my bench. Call me old fashioned, but I don't understand why someone would decide to go for a jog at midnight, let alone on a Saturday night; it takes all kinds, I guess. As the jogger comes closer, I start recognizing him: this is a gift from the Gods! I turn around and he jogs right past the bench, completely oblivious of my presence and gaze. I also notice that he's wearing headphones. Poor idiotic fool! I start to gently chuckle as I pick up the biggest rock I can find. I start following my unsuspecting target and get close to him; he still doesn't notice me. With one swift hit, the rock connects with the back of his skull and young man stumbles back. With a punch across the face, the blond collapses on the cold snowy ground, completely unconscious. I laugh out of satisfaction. I pick up my prey, wrap his arm around my shoulder and start dragging him to Scott's house; there will be much fun to be had tonight.
"What the hell is your problem, Boyett? Are you stupid?" Scott shouts at me.
"I wasn't going to let such a good opportunity pass me by without grabbing it." I reply with a smirk on my face, genuinely giving zero fucks about what Scott has to say.
"Haven't you ever heard the expression don't shit where you eat?" He screeches.
I laugh my ass off at that statement. "You didn't seem to care much about it when you raped Annie. Don't you dare lecture me, you fucking hypocrite." I unscrupulously reply.
Scott's face turns a deep shade of red. "You are under my roof, Boyett. Don't you dare cross me, or else-"He starts.
"Or else what? Don't forget that I'm the reason your half brother is in jail... wouldn't it suck if I felt really horrible about what I've done and went to the police to confess? You owe me, you ungrateful brat!" I spit.
Scott lets out a sigh in frustration. "My I ask what you are planning to do with this guy. Are you going to kill him?" He asks, defeated.
"I'll kill him eventually, but first, I want to have some fun." I say as a smirk forms on my face.
My victim starts whimpering and mumbling: he's coming back to his senses. I grab the little shit and promptly drag him to the basement. He tries to resist, but is too weak to successfully do so. I place him on Scott's woodworking table, making sure to slam his head on it to insure that he'll be incapacitated as I bind him to it. Once my prey is well restrained, I start looking through Scott's tool box and smile when I find exactly what I was looking for: a pair of diagonal cutters. Scott is coming down the stairs when I pull the tool out of the box. His face starts getting a little pale when he sees the cutters in my hands.
"You're not seriously going to do that, are you?" He asks, incredulous.
"You can bet your ass I'm doing that! It's not like he's going to need these digits ever again: I'm planning to let him bleed out, and if that's not enough, he will slowly die of infection. Whatever I do, I will not interfere with nature though." I say before chuckling.
"I wish we kept the Glock a little longer: imagine if we shot this idiot, left his body somewhere and then disposed of the gun? Cartman would be trialed for two murders." Scott says, clearly obsessed by his half brother.
I turn towards my captive guest: his blue eyes are wide opened and his entire body is shaking.
"Look at who woke up! Do you remember me, you little bitch?" I ask him as I get closer to him and play with the cutters.
The foolish boy nods negatively; that pisses the fuck out of me!
"You are one of the reasons an innocent was sent to jail, many years ago. You robbed him of his childhood, and now he wants revenge. Do you remember me?" I calmly say, my face mere inches from his.
The boy gasped and his jaw dropped: I think I cured his amnesia. He screams and starts to struggle, trying in vain to free himself.
"Trent Boyett! Oh my God! Oh! Sweet Jesus!" He whimpers.
"Thank you very much for having the decency to remember me, you little dip shit!" I say as I start taking his shoes off.
"What are you doing? Please, I beg you: don't hurt me! I was a child! I didn't know any better! Please, let me go!" My victim starts begging.
"You're right: you were nothing but a mere child then, but I look at you now and you look older and wiser. You could have gone to the authorities any time to say I was innocent, but you chose to keep your mouth shut. It's payback time, you little shit!" I say hatefully.
Scott is leaning against the wall: I notice he's clearly pitching a tent. I don't know what it is with that guy and violence, but he gets turned on every time blood or torture is involved. I do it strictly for revenge and honestly, I feel a little squeamish at what I'm about to do.
Despite my victim's please, I put his right pinky toe between the blades of the cutter and snap it off with a quick click: the blond boy screams is lungs out while Scott puts a hand down his pants and begins to pleasure himself.
"Are you fucking kidding me, Scott? Really? Can you please not do this now?" I exclaim as I feel both disgusted and disturbed by my partner's action.
"Trent, keep doing what you're doing. Stop ruining this for me!" He replies, clearly aggravated by my words.
He just keeps jerking it like the fucking weirdo he is: I guess I'll have to make due... I take the toe and place it on a small counter behind myself while blood is gushing from where I amputated the blond boy. The blood starts streaming in between the cracks of the table and along its legs right onto the floor, forming a little puddle underneath it. The boy's breathing is erratic, and I have to summon all my courage to grab his right hand and place the pliers around his pinky. After a quick snip, the boy screams once more, my partner in crime grunts out of pleasure and I focus all of my might to suppress a gag. The digit falls to the ground as more blood starts streaming from where it was once attached.
"Please, stop! I'm begging you! I'm so sorry for what I did in the past! I'd do anything to undo it!" The blond boy begs as I bend to pick up the freshly amputated pinky.
"Too little too late, don't you think" I brashly say as I get back up.
Picking up the pliers one last time, I go to his other hand and place the blades around the pinky while Scott walks to the other side of my prey and pulls his dick out of his pants: I swear to God, this guy makes me sick to my stomach sometimes. As I snip the boy's finger, he desperately screams again and Scott ejaculates all over his face, trying to aim as much semen as possible in the blond boy's mouth. I have tried to resist gagging, but this was way too much for me to handle: I put the last digit next to the others and run to the bathroom. I make it there just in time before the contents of my stomach come back up in a potent jet. Leave it to Scott Tenorman to take a gruesome situation and make it a million times worst. I struggle to get back up and immediately brush my teeth to remove the unpalatable taste of acid from my mouth. As for the boy, I hope for him he'll bleed to death.
Now that the horrible deed has been done, it's time for me to text Foley.
Two down, three to go. Also, Scott is a raging psychopath, but we already knew that. Stay tuned for the next chapter: trust me; major events are to take place.
Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed.
Don't forget to review.
Love you all,
xoxoxox Clotgirl xoxoxox