Inside the house, a middle-aged man was sitting in the living room reading one of the various books he had. He was a dapper man dressed in formal attire, wearing horn-rimmed glasses and sporting a pencil mustache and neatly combed salt and pepper hair. As he was reading quietly to himself, he heard the doorbell ring.
"A visitor at this hour?" He said to himself.
He then walked over to the front door, but not before pulling out a large gun from a nearby closet. He then opened the door to find nobody.
"Alright, who's out there?" He shouted. Nothing was heard. He then went back inside the house.
"Who was it, dear?" A woman's voice said from the other room.
"Just some punks playing a practical joke." The man said.
The doorbell rang again. The man ran out with his gun.
"Alright, show yourself!" He shouted. Like before, nothing was heard.
"Cowards." The man grumbled to himself as he walked back inside and closed the door.
He walked back into the living room and picked up his book to read some more. Just then, he heard the sound of a window breaking and his wife screaming. Knowing something was wrong, he set the book down and ran into his bedchamber. Upon arriving there, he saw a horrible sight: Four hoodlums rummaging through his items and destroying his possessions while his wife just sat on the bed helpless.
"What are you doing here?" He asked angrily. "This is a private estate!"
"Hey guys, look what I found." Redmond said rummaging through the wife's underwear drawer.
"Nevermind that, Redmond." Caleb said. "Don't you see we have company?"
"You have five seconds to get out here before I call the police." The man said. Caleb just rushed over and pinned him to the ground.
"Franklin Dupre." Caleb said. "Otherwise known as 'The Carpenter'. It's so glad to meet you."
"How do you know me?" Franklin said. "Who are you?"
"You've been seen nailing the corpses of our brothers in your woods as trophies." Caleb said. "We've come as means of retribution."
"So you're here to kill me?" Franklin said. "Then do me in."
"Au Contraire, you sodding naïf." Caleb said. "Killing you in your state wouldn't do enough justice. See, I don't punish for crimes against humanity."
Caleb then tore part of a curtain out from a nearby window.
"I only balance things out." Caleb said. "Danny, tie up the woman. Isaac, go through the rest of the house and destroy everything of value."
"What about me, my Prince?" Redmond asked.
"You stay here and hold him steady." Caleb said.
As Danny was tying up Franklin's wife to the bed posts by her wrists and ankles, Caleb took the piece of curtain and shoved it inside his victim's mouth. Redmond then took out a hand-made thorn whip and placed it around Franklin's mouth. Caleb took out two knives and stabbed them in his feet, pinning him to the ground as he screamed in pain; he took out another two knives and stabbed his hands and pinned them to the wall.
While this was going on, Danny, after tying up his victim, put on two wrist blades and used them to cut off the poor woman's clothing. Caleb then took out another knife and made a deep cut in the skin above Franklin's knees. He then placed two fingers in each cut and ripped the skin right off exposing his kneecaps. Franklin could only scream in pain and fear as Caleb took the knife and sliced at the tendons right above each kneecap; he then placed his hands on the kneecaps and ripped them right out.
"Is the woman prepared, Danny?" Caleb asked. Danny nodded showing the woman bound up and completely naked.
"Redmond, hold him steady." Caleb said lowering his bottoms. "I want him to get a good look at this."
When the deed was done, the four headed back to South Paris. Needing to refresh themselves after a long day, they headed to some nearby ruins where the gangs of South Paris would often meet. They called it 'Kac Ady', after the remaining letters on the gate. When they reached their table, they found someone already sitting there.
"Redmond. Isaac. Danny. Go get yourselves something to drink. I'll handle this." Caleb said.
"Can I help you?" The girl sitting at the table said.
"Excuse me dear, but I believe you're in my seat." Caleb said.
"I don't see your name on it." She said.
"I'm sorry, but do you know who I am?" Caleb asked.
"Duh." She said. "But why does it matter? You don't own the Kac Ady."
"I beg to differ." Caleb said pulling out a knife.
Meanwhile, the other three were at the front ready to make their order.
"What can I get for you gentlemen?" The lady at the counter asked.
Just then, something hit the counter with a loud thud. They looked and saw the corpse of the girl at Caleb's table covered in blood and with knives in her eyes.
"Hey guys, I saved you a table." Caleb said.
"Just three waters." Isaac said.
The three each grabbed a glass of water and went to the table that Caleb 'saved' for them. Caleb didn't get anything; after all, he still had his bottle of 190-proof.
As the four sat and drank, Caleb just looked ahead at his subordinates scattered across the room. Should they try anything, he'd be ready. As he continued to look around, he saw something that caught his eye: A young woman with long, black hair was walking into the ruins and making her way to the counter. What caught Caleb's eye (and everyone else's) was the way she was dressed: A fancy black uniform with a black skirt nothing like that even the most influential of South Paris's residents could possibly obtain.
She must've come from the city in the north and, judging by the insignia on the brooch resting on her bosom, she could even be part of the inner circle. As this point, Caleb could've just run over, slit her throat and thrown her carcass in the river, but at the same time, there was something so entrancing about her that made Caleb just sit there and watch her as she walked away. When she eventually saw Caleb staring at her, she immediately froze as if she had seen him before, but Caleb just smiled and raised his liquor bottle towards her. She just smiled back and walked away.
"Well what are you waiting for?" Redmond asked. "Kill her."
Caleb swiftly moved his hand in front of Redmond's crotch and strongly grasped it, squeezing his testicles. Redmond then screamed in pain as Caleb let go of him just as quick as he grabbed him. Everyone just stopped what they were doing and faced him.
"What was that for?" Redmond asked.
"For being an ignorant sod." Caleb said. "Where are your manners, dear Redmond? She did no harm to us, did she not?"
"She's still rich scum, is she not?" Redmond said. "If you had any true leadership, you would do the right thing and wipe this rich scum from the face of the remnants of this god forsaken planet."
"Would you crush an ant just because it was on your picnic table causing no harm to you or your friends?" Caleb asked.
"You do that all the time." Danny said.
"I don't consider the South Parisian's to be ants, Danny." Caleb said. "After all, they're on the same level as we are."
"If I were in charge of the picnic, I would." Redmond said.
"Is that a challenge?" Caleb said smirking as he slowly opened his uniform, showing his vest of knives.
"Nevermind." Redmond said.
"I think you've learned your lesson." Caleb said. "Let us retire for the night and come again another day."
"Yes, my Prince." The other three said.
With the other three going their separate ways, Caleb made his way through the streets of South Paris until he reached his home. Where he lived was a run down, dilapidated factory resting on an island in the River Seine, right next to The Wall, not too far from the Kac Ady. The bridge was long gone, so Caleb had to walk across the shallow river and walk inside through one of the holes in the walls that age had brought upon.
He got inside, relieved himself on the floor, stripped down and washed himself with a bucket of fresh water. When he was finished, he put his underwear back on, rummaged through the pockets of his clothing to pull out Vince's hand and the two kneecaps that belonged to the aristocrat Franklin Dupre and threw them down a staircase. Caleb then hopped onto a mattress on the floor, ready for sleep.
But first, he decided to end the day with a good book and what better than a book by one of his favorite authors, Stephen King. The book of choice was simply titled The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon. He only had the first forty pages, but it didn't matter to him as it had everything he enjoyed in a good book, or even life itself. He flipped through the pages in his hand as he read each word slowly and carefully as he wished to be fully immersed in the story itself. To him, the story flowed like a silk tapestry fresh off the loom it was spun on and made to fly in the wind without a care in the world. As he pleasured himself, he became immersed in his own fantasies.
Please Review.