I spent all day yesterday at my studio, working myself to the bone out of pure joy. Triss and Jenni didn't seem to mind the on-call aspect of our relationship. Or, they were really good at hiding it. I never saw the slightest glimpse of irritation from either of them, and while I wouldn't consider them friends it was still nice to be around them.
Today started out back at the Toybox. I walked in wearing my harlequin outfit but no cowl – just pigtails. "Lookie here!" I crowed when I opened the door to the knife room, "Seems like your prayers were meaningless after all, huh, Grams?"
She started crying quietly. I shook my head, "Aw, come on. Don't tell me you actually thought you were gonna get out of here."
"Please," Lester's voice was quiet. "Please, just let us go."
"Not happening, Grandpa. I told you, I'm gonna kill ya. I haven't decided when yet, but it's gonna happen."
A few of J's guys followed me in and picked up my grandparents in their chairs, moving them to the room with medieval torture devices. They looked around in abject fear, their terror at seeing the rack, the chair of torture, and the iron maiden was so thick it could be felt. But I wasn't going for big items with them. I wanted small, up close and personal torture for these two.
Their wounds had gotten infected. There was a smell when I'd entered the knife room, and the cuts looked red and inflamed.
"I think we'll start with Gramps today. What do you think, Grampie?"
Soft, quiet tears streamed from his eyes, "Just don't hurt Chelsea."
"Don't ask for shit you know you can't have."
The thumbscrews came out first. I needed a couple guys to hold him still, but eventually I got them on his fingers and toes. Then I put some on my grandmother. I tightened each one individually, following a sort of circle with them. Starting with Lester, one hand then the next, then down to the toes. Then on to Chelsea in the same pattern. Back and forth I went until their weeping turned to screams and their bodies began to shake from pain.
Chelsea's bones broke first. Her toes. First her left, then her right. Her right hand's fingers were next. Then Lester's right toes before I got back to her and her left hand's fingers snapped. That didn't stop me from tightening the thumbscrews, though. Not even when all of Lester's appendages were broken. I continued tightening until I felt it was time to stop - which was when they just wouldn't tighten anymore.
Then I pulled out the tongue tearer, "For every lie you spewed at my mama. For every time you told her Jesus would save her. For murdering her. This will ensure you never do it again."
Mick held Lester's head back and Frankie yanked his mouth open. It took a couple tries to get it to fit properly since I hadn't used one before. I slowly twisted the screw so the metal would gradually tighten on his tongue. He started screaming around the tearer before I even saw blood.
"Can't handle consequences, huh, Grandpa?" I twisted the screw viciously and he began to wail. Before long his tongue completely ripped out of his head, blood pouring from his mouth.
"Your turn, Grandma! Don't worry, you get a fresh one all to yourself."
"Please. Please, don't do this."
"Tell you what. If you can tell me my name, you get a free pass."
She froze, eyes wide. Her lip began to tremble and she burst into tears.
"That's what I thought. You say you loved Mama, but you didn't even care to know the gender or name of her only child. So, fuck you, Grams. It's your turn." I took the other tongue tearer and got it attached much faster the second time. I didn't bother going slow with her, instead I was quite vicious. The screw turned quickly under my fingers, the tearer moving about wildly. She was screaming from the first second, almost choking on her own blood when she foolishly tried to pull away. "Cut it out, Grammie, you're just making this go faster."
A second tongue decorated the table, blood pouring from the mouths of my mama's parents. "Ya know, I'm afraid you're gonna bleed to death. And we can't possibly give you medical attention when you denied it to Mama. So, I guess you die now. Mickie?"
He left the room for a minute and came back with two nooses. The noises that came from their mouths were delicious. The monster in my head chattered happily, reveling in the blood and torture. Time to die. Time to DIE. TIME TO DIE. TIME TO DIE!
"You go the same way she did."
Their sanguine wails filled me with warmth from scalp to toes. Frankie and Mick got the nooses hung where I wanted them. They then untied Lester and Chelsea from their chairs and placed a noose around each of their necks. I knew I couldn't lift either of them off the ground, so the boys looped the ropes around pipes at the sides of the room and used them like winches to lift the bodies high into the air before tying off the ropes to let them dangle.
I watched every second of their deaths. The choking gasps that gurgled, the twitching bodies, useless fingers scrabbling lamely at the ropes. Violently shaking legs, muffled, garbled screams that came out like whispers, blood that continued to pour from their mouths. Broken, begging eyes; eyes looking for hope, for salvation where none would come. Tears filled those eyes like little gems, sparkling in the lights so prettily. It took longer than you'd think. I watched justice until those bodies grew limp.
"Leave them up there for now. It's the closest they'll get to heaven."