8._Finding Peace

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You finally seemed to get a fucking clue when I cuffed you to this chair. I guess you hadn’t actually seen the inside of this trailer it at that point either: empty box with plastic on every surface and a metal chair bolted to the floor, but I guess being released from one set of cuffs only to be walked over and locked to another, clicked something in that little brain of yours.

Oh man were you ever loud, as loud as someone can be with 6 layers of duct tape wrapped around their mouth. As soon as I locked the manacles on your feet you started bucking. And I knew you were gonna clog your nose, i fucking knew it. I told you to calm down but you kept moving and snorting and then you couldn’t fucking breathe could you? You fucking idiot. Good thing I was there to get that gag off you so you didn’t suffocate. Or lucky me, I guess. I bet right about now you’re wishing that I’d let you suffocate, huh?

That was as good a timing as any though, honestly. Watching your face when I pulled out your gag just to come back with that fucking novelty dildo gag, goddammit that was funny. Using the lighter on you til you opened your fucking mouth and let me strap it on you.

Surely it wasn’t that bad, right? It was only, like, 3 inches. I deliberately picked one you wouldn’t choke on, it was basically the same as the ball gag, just funnier in my opinion.

Really, I could’ve taken the gag off entirely at that point. This trailer has so much soundproofing that you could scream at the top of your lungs through a megaphone and nobody would hear it. Well, probably at least, I wasn’t going to take any chances until we’d gotten nice and far out into the boonies.

I remember once I had you in the trailer I hooked it up to the hitch, that was when the true relief washed over me. It hit me while I was squatting there in the dirt and I had to jump into the driver’s seat real fast and bawl like a little fucking baby. And I mean I fucking bawled dude. Like, snot all over my face. Crying—Shrieking crying—for a good 15, 20 minutes. Honestly, I felt fucking stoned when I was done, it was crazy.

After that I tidied up the stuff in the back a bit and then started her up, popped her in drive—and that’s when I started laughing. Laughing to the point I cried again. I pissed my pants a little bit even. And after that I was just… calm, you know?

That was when I knew everything was gonna work out. Doug was right, I was gonna find my peace.

And I reckon that must’ve been about that time you figured out things were not looking so good for you, huh?

Or at least you had some idea, right? Like, maybe you thought I was gonna rape you or something? Stick bigger and bigger dildos in your mouth? Maybe some other holes too?

I truly don’t envy your position, my friend, but I would love to know what you’re feeling right now—I mean, aside from the obvious. I don’t want to feel that, the cutting and stuff, I’m talking about the mental part. The despair, that cold empty dropping in your gut as you realize you’re utterly fucked, you’re so totally, completely fucked and no one is coming to save you.

You know, I bet there’s still some part of you trying to rationalize though, trying to convince yourself that you’ll still walk out of here.

Am I right? You think there’s a chance you’ll make it out of all this?

Spoiler alert: you won’t.

I mean, she didn’t, right? And fair’s only fair. “An eye for an eye” as they say. Or in your case: eyes, hands, cock, your fucking face, your testicles, legs, arms—all of it, everything. I’m going to take everything from you.

Because that’s what you took from her: everything.

Yes yes I know you keep saying that you didn’t do this, you didn’t chain her up and torture her.

But didn’t you?

Maybe you didn’t literally tie her to a chair, but what would you call years of physical and psychological abuse to keep her under your thumb? Maybe you think you didn’t “torture” her, but what would you call the endless rapes and beatings?

You broke her, destroyed everything about her. “Living hell” doesn’t even begin to describe what she went through. The level of sadism is truly mind boggling, and I say that fully aware of you and I’s current circumstances and the seeming irony.

A hypocrite you might say—I think not.

This is merely a response.

I’m serious, it is absolutely unbelievable the things you did to her, and for no other reason than to do them.

And, yeah, she got away from you eventually—but not really.

She never really got away from you. I mean, how could she? How could anyone?

Imagine spending every second of every day of your life remembering what happened to you, reliving it in every exquisite detail, every waking moment a state of constant dread because you know the next flashback is merely one slightly raised voice, one dropped plate, one accidentally slammed door away. And dreams offering no respite, the nightmares never ending.

Imagine trying not to go fucking crazy living like that. Imagine trying desperately to find any shred of normalcy in life, trying anything to stop the pain, every pill, every distraction.

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Imagine trying not to think about the one, easy, very permanent way of stopping the pain.

Imagine the moment when you finally give in.

It wasn’t rope thrown over a rafter. It wasn’t a hot bath and a razorblade. Wasn’t a fucking gun.

It was just a stupid little bottle of pills she killed herself with.

You didn’t know that, did you?

What am I saying, of course you didn’t, why the fuck would you.

And yes yes you’re sorry now, big surprise. Sitting here blubbering on and on about how sorry you are, how So So Sorry you are, with all your fingers broken and your fucking testicle a red smear on the ground.

You know, I was never that close with my family. Always kept them at kind of arm’s length, tried to stay detached from their drama. But even this broke me. Watching how it tore everyone apart, I couldn’t stay.

Mom blamed herself, of course, went back to the bottle. Haven’t heard from her in years.

Everyone else just… it’s just fucked, all of it. Everything is fucked. I went no-contact with everyone because I was this close to offing myself trying to deal with it all.

And, well… anyways, you don’t care.

You didn’t care when you did it. You didn’t care after you’d done it. And you don’t care now.

And yeah yeah you keep saying that you care, keep saying that you’re sorry, but you’re not. You never will be.

Even when I take this Exacto knife to your other testicle and you’re shrieking about how sorry you are, you won’t be. Not really.

Don’t worry about your nut just yet though. That one can stay for a while. I’ve got plenty of your other parts left to burn and cut and poke before we get to that.

Also, don’t stress about your eyes—I mean, yes, I am going to cut them out, but that’ll happen last. I want you to be able to see yourself when I’m finished.

If you think you look fucked up without a nose, wait til I get to your ears and lips. I’m probably gonna pull some of your teeth if I can figure out how to hold your jaw in place, and I want to try my hand at scalping as well.

I’m wondering if there’s a way that I could, like, scalp your face too.

I don’t know, we’ll figure it out—together.

Might be fun to let you choose which thing to burn or cut off next. But I want you to see when I’m doing it. I want you to watch as I disfigure you.

Once I’m done, once you see that hideous, mutilated thing in the mirror, your flesh totally vandalized and barely recognizable as human, then I’ll cut your eyes out.

I’m hoping I can do it slow, I don’t really know what to expect. Are they going to, like, pop? Do eyes do that? Like, will they burst all over the place? Or will it be like cutting into sautéed garlic or something like that? A fleshy thing that slowly gives way to the blade and then maybe the insides ooze out gradually?

I don’t know, but I’m curious. I’ll try to get some good practice with the first one. The second one I’ll really try and savor.

Holy fuck dude, are you ever gonna be hollerin’!

God damn do you have a set of lungs on you, boy! I’m so glad I didn’t skimp on that foam. No way in hell I coulda done this anywhere else. We’re in the middle of fucking nowhere and I’m still worried someone’s gonna hear all the fun we’re having in here. Whaddaya think’ll make you scream louder, when I cut your eyes out, or when I pop that other nut out?

Man, I gotta tell you, these noise cancelling ear buds’ve been great. They’ve been blocking I bet damn near 90% of the shit coming out your mouth. I got them for shooting, you know, so I wouldn’t go fucking deaf. Out in the desert it was fine with the silencers and shit—lots of open space for sound to dissipate—but in an enclosed space I was worried it would amplify the noise too much.

You know in movies when they shoot guns indoors and then have totally normal conversations? Yeah, no, you’d be fucking bleeding from the ears if you did that. Even a gun with a silencer inside would be fucking loud. I figured I was just gonna have to deal with it, but I guess the algorithm saw me searching for subsonic ammo and silencers and “how loud are gunshots indoors?” and decided to give me ads on Google for these headphones that let you hear like normal until a sound gets over a certain decibel level and then it mutes it.

I didn’t know there was such a thing but they’re actually pretty sick. And I hadn’t even considered the fact I’d use them again for anything other than my little shoot-em-up at your hangout.

I guess I’ll be keeping these suckers in a while yet, we got a lot more to get through.

We still got your toes and feet and nipples, your fingers—yeah I know they’re broken already, but I’m going to take them off—your ears, your teeth, your other fucking testicle…

Not to mention your dick. Shame about that one, huh? Did you ever think you’d live to see the day you’d wish you hadn’t been born with a big dick? ‘Cause that’s a pretty big dick, and that means lots of surface area, which means lots of nerve endings. I guess you’ll see what you look like circumcised though, won’t that be fun? And as a full-on eunuch too.

Oh, and I got a whole hell of a lot more things to stick up your ass. Got some sandpaper wrapped pipe, some barbed stuff too. Not to spoil anything else for you, but that’ll probably happen pretty near the end, sometime just before I scalp you and skin your arms and legs and chest and back. I figure you’ll lose a lot of blood during that, and I don’t know if cauterizing is really gonna help that much.

I wish I was, like, a doctor or an EMT even, but unfortunately I don’t really know how to keep someone alive.

I really, truly wish there was a way to keep this whole thing going, keep you tucked away here for weeks or months or years, but that’s beyond me.

I just gotta be grateful that it all worked out this far, grateful that you and I are here together right now.

You know I actually almost didn’t bother with all of this? I really expected I’d have to shoot you, figured you’d pull a gun or knife and I’d blow your fucking brains out just like I did to your homies, or you’d run away and I’d shoot you in the back.

Honestly, I expected best case scenario to be getting you sobbing on your knees in a puddle of your own piss and shit before I shot you like a dog. Never thought I’d get the chance to use the cuffs or the hood or the gag or any of this shit. Figured this whole trailer setup would just end up a waste of time and money.

Getting to this point was pure fantasy. A wild dream destined never to come true that I was This. Fucking. Close. to not preparing for.

But boy am I ever glad I did. If God were real I’d thank him, because this… this is just the greatest gift. I am just so so grateful.

And I’m going to keep this gratitude. I’m going to keep being thankful for what I have, for the cards I’ve been dealt.

And as much as I wish I had forever, the cards I’ve been dealt are that I got maybe three or four more days with you. Not nearly as much time as I’d like, but I’m going to make it count, believe me.

Just remember, your eyes come out last. That’s what you can look forward to. That’s your finish line.

Well, that’s the end for at least seeing what I’m doing to you. There’s still a few things I have planned for once you’re blinded. Don’t worry about passing out either, I got a bunch of epi-pens for that. I was watching some cartel videos for inspiration—that’s where I got the idea to cut off your whole face—and it looked like that’s something they do to revive people when they pass out, to really prolong the whole ordeal. So get ready, it’s gonna be a long… well, a long rest of your life. I’ve got some uppers to keep myself awake too…

Imagine the most excruciating pain you’ve ever felt—presumably something from the last couple hours—now imagine that times a hundred, a thousand. That’s what I want your last conscious experience to be before you black out.

And then I want your next last conscious experience to be even more pain. And so on, for your next, and your next, and your next.

I don’t know if the human mind can become desensitized to pain the same as it can with, like, the sound of a dripping faucet or ticking clock, or if there’s some kind of “pain refractory period” like how after you cum you can’t cum again for a while. Maybe if you experience too much constant pain you become incapable of feeling it for a while? I don’t know,I guess we’ll find out, huh?

I’m going to hurt you. I’m going to Really. Fucking. Hurt. you.

Then I’m going to wake you up and do it all again!

Hurt, wake, hurt, wake.

I’m going to keep doing that until I can’t wake you up anymore.

This is it for you. This is your life.

The rest of your worthless, meaningless existence is going to be this.

This moment, this continuous stream of agony.

And you wanna know something?

There is absolutely nothing you can do to stop it.

There is nothing you can say.

There is nothing you can offer me.

There absolutely nothing you can do to make this stop.

This is how it ends for you.

I would suggest you try and find peace with that…

Because I’ve found mine.

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8.

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