Chapter 20 - The Walk of Shame

Sid Holmes stood near the kitchen table. In his hand he held a run-of-the-mill kitchen knife. While he spoke to Marshall he waved the knife in front of their victim, a horrified woman in her mid twenties.

This precious thing was definitely a tourist. She was far to beautiful to be from Cainville. What was left of her clothes said hiker. Her age and lack of supplies that she had on her when the guys discovered her walking in the canyons suggest she can't possibly be experienced. She definitely wasn't the brains of the operation so there's no way she was traveling alone. Sid was quick to sniff out her would-be Prince Charming a few clicks ahead of her checking for snakes and making sure the trail was safe enough for Precious.

"How sweet," Sid mused as he bashed his brains in with his boot, dispatching him quickly.

Precious was quickly blindfolded. Not so she couldn't make a positive identification, Sid and Marshall knew that she had already seen them and they just can't care less. They have found that their victims reach a higher level of fear when they can't predict what's about to happen. You know what they say, fear is everything.

While Sid was dragging her unconscious body through the rough rocks towards his truck he noticed four pick-axes sitting at the opening of a mine as if the devil had left them there himself. Smirking Sid grabbed the pick-axes, he likes the way the devil thinks.

Once back home Sid instructed Marshall to hold Precious against the kitchen wall, "nice and still."

Marshall did as he was told. With four powerful blows Sid pinned Precious up against the wall with the pick-axes like he was hanging a painting. As each blow of the ax hit home she hollered and yelped in pain, pleading with her captives to let her go or just hurry up and kill her.

Sid's laughter roared in Precious's face, she could feel his spit splash on her face. "Shut the fuck up baby girl!" He commanded.

He turns to his brother and begins his lesson, "Like I was sayin before, you can't use these kitchen knives for shit. They barely useful in the kitchen."

"So that's why the axes?" Marshall questioned, "I saw you take em and I was wonderin why."

"I'll show you exactly what I mean," with a malicious glare Sid stuck precious with the kitchen knife just above the wound created by the ax. "If I take the ax out she's just gonna flop off the wall like when you don't use enough tape to stick a picture."

Sid pulled the knife out and continued, "about all this is good for is bleeding her dry. I stick her a few more times and she's a ghost, isn't that right Precious?"

The guys stopped and stared at Precious as if they were expecting her to produce an answer that was anything other than a guttural moan or a shallow deathly rasp.

Marshal laughed and looked at the now pitifully precious Precious saying, "I bet she's wishing someone would come barging through that door and save her."

Sid chuckled, "yeah I bet she'd give anything if some hero came crashing through the door, guns blazing ready to fuck us up. Ain't that right Precious? But we know where the only place you're ever gonna find a hero is now do we?"

Marshal continued laughing, "yeah Prince Charming only exists in stories."

"That's right my brother, and Precious that's exactly what you'll become. Part of my story..."

The guys watched as Precious slowly expired. They were so into it, they barely noticed Ginger enter the cottage. The sound of the door slamming jarred them from their show.

In no time at all Sid and Marshall noticed that Ginger's clothes were all either torn or on backwards and her make up was smudge beyond conceal. Ginger did her best not to make eye contact with her brothers as she quickly slinked upstairs.

No way was Sid going to miss a chance to chastise his sister. With a shit-eating grin and said, "so who'd you screw?"

Ginger looked at her brother's project and did her best to not look like a deer caught in headlights and said, "I see you were redecorating. It's none your business who I screw. I mean if I did screw someone and I ain't saying I did."

"Come on out with it!" Sid demanded.

"No way!"

"Alright then." Sid smiled knowingly and glanced a Marshall who was also smirking.

What adulthood they had quickly vanished when both guys began chanting gleefully, "the walk of shame, the walk of shame!"

"Assholes!" Ginger said and turned into her room shutting her bedroom door behind her.

With the loud crack of the door slamming the brothers roared with laughter and continued to chant like immature teenagers...

"The walk of shame, the walk of shame, Ginger's taking the walk of shame!
The walk of shame she's not to blame, for who could resist the cock?!"

Mac sauntered into his dark empty house victoriously.

"I showed her," he thought to himself, post coital glow still clear on his face.

He didn't bother putting on the generator. As he stepped into his filthy kitchen a flashlight clicked on.

Mac smirked at Devon, "you trying to get the drop on me?"

"No," Devon answered from behind the flashlight.

"Then why the fuck are you in my house shit stain? Give me one reason why I should smash your face in!"

"Because I saw everything."

Mac clenched his fists, "what did you just say?"

"I saw you unceremoniously slamming that red-headed bitch and the only reason I ain't gonna run and tell Walter is that we got work to do."

"Oh yeah?" Mac smirked, "so now your think you own me or something? Let's get this right! I don't give a shit what you tell the old man."

"I think you do give a shit. Walter told you to kill her and you end up fucking her? I know your deranged but you can't be that confused.

So I'm just gonna pretend that this whole thing was some type of fore play or whatever you fucked up people do before you off someone."

"Get the fuck out of my house!" Mac grabbed Devon by his collar and pushed him towards the exit.

"Fine fine, brother. Just remember, I need you to answer your phone tomorrow. I've got big things planned."

"I'll give you a big thing you little shit! I ain't your bitch!" Mac hollered after Devon as he left his house.

When the door slammed shut Mac threw his phone out of his sight. He heard it hit the carpeted in his living room and said, "I ain't fucken answering shit. That fuckin' punk!"