|J A K E|

I don't think anything beats the rush you get from executing the perfect revenge on someone who betrayed you. Careful planning is the ultimate way to plan said revenge but I prefer the nontraditional method.

Case in point: the fucktard I'm currently raining blows on.

My fist pounds repeatedly on his face. He stopped fighting back a while ago and all that's left of him is a quivering, whimpering mess. 

"I'm going to ask you one more time. Where the fuck is that bitch?"

"Fuck you." He spits blood on my face. That's it. My patience has ran thin. My fist slams into his face and something crunches. Whether it's his face or my fingers, I don't care. He passes out cold, collapsing in a heap on the floor. 

I can't believe I've hit a dead end. Again. That skank sure knows how to cover her tracks. Got to give her props for being smart.

I reach into my pocket for a cigarette and light it up, all the while watching the guy lying on the floor. Didn't take long to track down the little fucker. Not that it was hard, guy's a freaking accountant for Chrissake.

I look around the small bathroom and my eyes land on a small passport framed photo tucked in the corner of the mirror. I pick it up and bring it close to my face. I squint at it to get a better look at the couple smiling for the camera.

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The more I look at them, the more I feel the rage boiling up inside of me. I know the woman. Hard not to when it's the same one who fucked you over but as for the man. . . Yeah. Now I'm beyond pissed off. 

I take long drags as I continue studying the pic, particularly at the guy who has his arm around skankface shoulder. How could I have been so stupid? I look back down at the guy on the floor, who's now starting to come to. His groans echo in the bathroom which isn't helping me because I need to fucking think.

The wheels turn in my head and with each revelation I uncover, I know that the only way I'm going to be pacified is having that fucking bitch choking for air as I strangle her till she dies.

She wants to play games? We'll fucking play games. I reach for another cig only to find out that I've run out of them.

"Fuck!" I smash the box in my hand, before tossing the empty package at the wall. This is not a good time to run out of smokes. They're about the only thing keeping me from killing this asshole. 

Yelling out, I grip my hair, before reaching for the closest thing to me and breaking it against the wall. I don't stop until everything in this small bathroom is broken and out of place. 

When I stop, I catch my breath and look into the mirror. I stare long and hard at the monster I've become because of her. I'm going to kill her when I find her. And I will find her but now. . . I need to take care of the imposter she put here in order to trick me.

I pocket the picture and get the jerrican of gasoline I had come with. I pour it all over the man's body and he starts to beg for me to stop. I ignore him and continue pouring gasoline all over the room. I move outside the room, going to each room and douse the entire place. I walk back into the bathroom and dump the jerrican on the guy's head.

"You should've never taken money from her," I tell him and start walk out. I don't get too far before his hand curls around my boot, almost making me trip.

I don't catch the word coming from his bloodied mouth. He drags his body close to me but I shrug him off. He should have thought twice before he decided to include himself in the fuckery between Eliza and I.

I step outside the house, catching a whiff of the distinct smell of gasoline in the air. I made sure to drench the entire place. No room for escape for that bastard. 

I head to my truck parked on the curb and take one last look at the suburban home. I bring out a matchbox, light up a stick and flick it onto the trimmed grass. And just like that, everything lights up in flames. I watch for a while, the sight making me feel satisfied and sick at the same time.

After having my fill, I get into the car and drive off before the neighbors start trickling into the scene. 

 Next stop, Detroit. She better buckle up because I'm going to fuck her up. She may be smart but I'm smarter. Nobody fucks with me and gets away scot free.