That BITCH will PAY for this.

Tom's grunts and whines of pain were but one of a whole host of noises that rang through the decrepit kitchen. Droning hum of overhead lights, ominous hissing of ruptured pipes, unceasing drops of leaking water splashing against the metal sink. Whether the trashing wretch of a man could hear any of them, obscured by the deafening sounds of blood rushing through his veins and the racket of his racing heart, was another matter.

That fucking THING too.

The pain of his mangled limbs barraged his mind, but his unceasing fury eclipsed even that. At that WORTHLESS BITCH daring to enter MY house, MY fucking property, and DARED to fucking speak to me like that. How dare she, how FUCKING dare she disrespect me like that.

Another pained gasp cut off the bestial snarl of anger before it could escape his throat, leaving him shaking even harder on the messy floor. It's ALL her fault. Blood, bile, and water pooled around him as the natural gas in the air above turned it hazy—none of that was consciously noticed, though.

Much, much too late for that.

A slow, grinding facsimile of laughter pushed its way through gritted teeth as he fantasized about everything he was going to do. I'll have her FUCKING dog turned into a PELT. His justice would be glorious, they would all suffer just like he has.

SHE fucking went in and DARED to raise her voice AT ME, AT ME, I AM THE FUCKING LAW! Too late for discipline for that bitch, I'll have her fucking HEAD on a STAKE, and then EVERYONE ELSE in this fucking town.

For all the skeevy looks they gave him, for their disrespect. He was their superior. It's MY fucking town, they are just background decoration, they are NOTHING. He could have them all thrown behind bars.

They think their fucking mons can save them?

If they even tried to look at him wrong, he would have them hunted down. He had immunity. If I wanted I could unload my ENTIRE fucking mag in them until they stop twitching. They were below humans and humans were below him, he had authority over them all.

He was the protector of the law, and they were NOTHING. Don't they fucking DARE backtalk me.

He saw what they thought of him, how they dared to talk about him when the topic of Anne came up. Already good for fucking nothing, NO FUCKING RESPECT, and then that Graham WHORE kept teaching her worthless fucking shit.

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How dare she run away from ME. I OWN her, she is nothing without me, would never be ANYTHING without me.

It was Lisa's fault. She corrupted her. That fucking BITCH.

This time, Tom's anger-filled shout overcame his incapacitation, ringing through the decrepit building. He was already on his way to shape that little brat into something proper before she even left her diapers, but of course SHE had taken it away. Just wouldn't suffice to keep HURTING him, she had to fucking take his PROPERTY too.

But now you're fucking dead, Lisa. Anne's mine, she will ALWAYS BE MINE.

Snarls and shouts gave way to laughter as his bloodshot eyes stared straight into the fluorescent lights above. For a moment, he thought he saw her, he saw Anne, he saw Lisa, stare down at him from above. DON'T YOU DARE LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT. From beyond.

He struck the air with his bare, broken hand. The pain was unbearable, but the anger was just barely stronger.

That FUCKING demon's head will be mine, too.

A crooked grin twisted his bloodied expression as his imagination took him for a tour. I'll burn down that entire FUCKING forest, kill every single last THING there, if it means getting my hands on that thing. Did it think it could just come at him without any consequences?

*wee-woo-WEE-WOO!*

I knew that bitch wouldn't have the balls.

As the approaching sirens pierced Tom's veil of agony, more and more vicious glee dripped into his train of thought. All she had to do was fucking RESPECT me, and she and her FUCKING dog couldn't even do that. With each drop came just enough relief, sating his urges just enough to let him endure until the ambulance got here. I will make that Graham BITCH regret everything, especially her being weak enough to call for help.

Fantasies of violent torture raced through his mind as his working hand—or what remained of it—reached into the pocket of his vest. The boys will appreciate getting to rough up an old BITCH on the LAW's dime. They made the mistake of letting him live, and he would make sure it cost them everything. He pulled out a cigarette, bent in half, and stuck it in his mouth.

They'll pay for this.

None of them would get away scot-free. Not that BITCH, not that THING, not that worthless girl for DARING to run away from me. If she'd fucking died out there, then fucking GOOD, it was all that fucking bitch ever deserved after Lisa filled her head with WEAKNESS.

THEY'LL PAY FOR THIS.

The thought echoed in his mind, reverberating ever louder. She finally tossed that THING and still wouldn't behave. His grin grew with each repetition, his body calmed down, the hissing pipes and the distant sirens grew louder. Oh yes, he would make them all pay, without mercy. I'll have a field day going with a HAMMER over their EVERY limb and joint.

As the bloodthirsty fantasy gripped his mind, he reached for the cracked lighter in his pocket, too drunk on revenge to feel any pain anymore, and brought it to his lips.

THEY'LL PAY FOR THIS.

THEY'LL PAY FOR THIS.

THEY

WILL

PAY

FOR

THIS—

*click!*