Psychoville

Tim Miller

Copyright © 2015 Tim Miller

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Cover photo courtesy of Alex Arriaza with Kalon Imaging and Fleshreaper

Cover model: Lisa Marie Kart

Chapter 1

Deputy Spurlock sat in the cruiser waiting for a car to go by; at this point he didn't mind if they weren't even speeding. He'd find a reason to stop them. It had been at least a week since someone had passed through here. He wasn't even sure why they had a police department, but here he was. Pay wasn't great, but it was better than working in the fields. The folks around there raised hogs, chickens, goats and some cattle.

Only the Dugan's raised cattle and not very many of them. Last time Spurlock had been by there, Mr. Dugan had maybe four or five steers, and all of them looked malnourished. Not to mention there was nowhere around here to sell the things. Folks usually raised something they'd eat themselves. Though Dugan's oldest boy, Dexter, would sometimes go out and hump one of the steers. If Spurlock hadn't seen it himself, he wouldn't have believed it. Though that wasn't the weirdest thing someone might see around here.

The steer was just a bit too high for Dex, so he stood up on a foot stool, whipped out his pecker, and started humping away. The kid seemed to be having a good old time too. The steer, on the other hand, looked bored. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a woman screaming. He looked up and around but couldn't see anyone. After a minute, he heard it again.

Spurlock got out of the car and walked around. His hiding spot was back off the road, hidden behind some trees and bushes. There were woods covering both sides of the road. The trees provided a tiny bit of shade in the Texas heat, but not very much. He walked toward the sound of the screaming. It stopped for a second, but he heard it again, this time followed by the sound of sticks breaking and heavy breathing.

He moved toward the sound when he saw her. The girl was naked and covered in filth. Her long blonde hair was dirty and matted to the side as she ran through the woods, as branches scraped and scratched her skin. She saw Spurlock and ran toward him. He grabbed her by the shoulders as she nearly fell into his arms.

"Help! Please! Help me! These men! They're trying to kill me! They killed my friend!" she screamed.

"There. It's ok. Shh. You're safe now. I got you."

"But they're coming. One of them was right behind me."

"I know, it's ok," He reassured. She stood and started walking, pulling on his arm.

"Can't we go? Please? Let's go!" she said, tugging at his arm. With his other hand down to his side, he removed his retractable baton from his belt and extended it. She tugged at his arm again. This time he swatted at her with the baton, striking her in the face and knocking her to the ground. He hit her a couple more times, making sure she was out.

A minute later, another man emerged from the bushes. Spurlock looked up at him annoyed. It was Chester Oswald.

"You're lucky I was working traffic nearby, ya dumbass," Spurlock said.

"Ollie was supposed to be watching her. I guess he fell asleep."

"Well he done fucked up, that's for sure," Spurlock said. "Get her out of here. You know what would happen if she made it to the highway? It'll be your dumb luck that a car would pass through for the first time in ages."

"Sorry, Deputy Spurlock. You're not gonna tell our pa, are ya?"

"No. You boys alone at the studio?"

"No. The Culvers was helping us too. Buddy grabbed a set of twins in town. A couple of girls, only fourteen or fifteen. They identical too. Gonna make a crazy ass movie."

"I'm sure. Go, get her out of here and lock your shit down. And kick Ollie's ass for me. I'm tired of cleaning up his shit."

"Yes, sir. Sorry again," Chester said as he bent down and flung the unconscious girl over his shoulder and disappeared into the bushes. The Oswalds own a little studio in what used to be their barn. They started out just making regular porno movies in there. Until one day, Chester got too rough and strangled one of his girls to death. Their old man, Daryl, did some checking around and found out he could sell that movie for about ten times a normal porno.

So there they started their own little snuff porn business. They managed to avoid the law by doing everything on film. No digital, no websites, no streaming. They made one print of each film, which went to their buyer, and that was it. The rarity of it allowed them to charge even more. For as much as they made, no telling why they stayed in this godforsaken town. If Spurlock had half their cash, he'd have been long gone ages ago.

No telling what Daryl even spent the money on. It for sure wasn't on clothes or fixing up his property. They all looked like they been sleeping in the same overalls for five years. Oh well, wasn't any of his business anyway.

Spurlock had just made it back to his car when he heard it. An engine. There was a car coming. It was a brown sedan that zipped by. Without hesitation, Spurlock turned on his lights and accelerated after the car. He followed them almost half a mile before they saw him and pulled over. Once they were stopped, Spurlock put on his sunglasses and stepped out of the car and approached the vehicle. There was a middle-aged couple sitting in the car, the man in the driver's seat looking up at them.

"Is there a problem officer? We were going the speed limit," the man said.

"License and registration please," Spurlock said.

"Can you tell me why we were stopped? What is the problem?"

"The problem is, you came through my town."

"Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean? Are we under arrest? Am I being detained?"

"Step out of the car please," Spurlock said. "Both of you."

"What? You need to tell us what is happening. You can't just pull us over for no reason and then start shaking us down."

"Sir. Would you kindly shut yer damn mouth?"

"Excuse me?"

"I said, would you kindly shut your damn mouth. Or if that's too hard, then shut the fuck up. You've done nothing but flap yer gums since I stopped you. For all you know, I was gonna give you a warning; instead you gotta shoot your mouth off. Now get out of the car." Spurlock drew his gun from its holster as he said the word "car." Both the man and the woman climbed out as Spurlock pistol-whipped the man in the nose with his revolver. He held the man's head as he repeatedly bashed him in the face until the man's nose was a bloody mass on his face.

The woman screamed as she took off running. Spurlock had no idea where she was going, but it wasn't going to be far. He whipped out his baton, took a stutter step, and threw it side arm toward her. It flung at her like a helicopter blade until it caught her in the legs, tripping her up and sending her sprawling across the pavement face first. Spurlock walked up to her, retrieved his baton and knelt down by her. She looked up at him, sobbing.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

"I'm Deputy Spurlock, ma'am. Welcome to Psychoville."

Chapter 2

Clara stuffed clothes into her backpack as fast as she could. She was supposed to meet Ben and Nicole in Austin in an hour. Austin was almost four hours away. She'd overslept and now was rushing. She'd tried calling them, but neither were answering. Nicole's phone kept going straight to voicemail.

"Come on. Answer! Fuck!" Clara said as she tossed her phone onto the bed. She didn't have time to fuck around. She got her stuff packed and headed for the car. Her phone rang as she hurried to answer it, hoping it was Ben.

"Hello?" she said.

"Clara. Hey! Glad I caught you." It was her boss. She worked part-time at a pharmacy. She hated it.

"What's wrong?"

"Hey. We had some call offs. I need you to come in."

"Come in? No! I planned this time off months ago. I'm all packed up and in the car."

"Come on. I need you here. We had three people not show up today. It's just me and Jennifer."

"I don't know what to tell you. I can't make it in," she said and hung up. He tried calling back a minute later, but she silenced it and got in her car. As she drove, she hoped Ben and Nicole weren't too angry with her. They were the closest thing to family she had. Her parents died in an accident when she was a kid. Her grandma had raised her since she was in her teens. Nicole Johnson and Ben Robbins had just moved in together, back then, and treated her like she was a little sister. They were hippie types and had never bothered getting married. They said they’d never seen a point.

She hadn't seen them in years. She'd gone off to Texas Tech and moved to the Dallas/Ft. Worth area after graduation. Unfortunately, the best job she could find had been retail or waiting tables.

Thirty minutes into the drive, she stopped at a convenience store to fill up and grab some snacks for the road. As she was coming out, there was a couple at the gas pump across from hers. They were arguing over something. The girl was trying to back away while the guy grabbed her arm.

"Let go of me!" the girl screamed.

"Just get in the car and we can talk about this." The guy said.

"I don't want to talk. I'm done! Let go!"

"Bitch! Get in the fucking car!"

Clara tried pretending not to notice as she got into her car, but she heard the guy screaming this time. She looked and saw the girl had grabbed the squeegee and flung window cleaner into his face. She turned and ran, and before Clara could react, she'd opened the car door and jumped into the passenger seat.

"Go!" the girl said.

"What?"

"I said GO before he comes over here!"

"I don't even know you," Clara protested. "Why are you in my car?"

She looked in the rearview mirror and saw the man, now looking furious coming toward them.

"Fucking go! Now!" the girl screamed again. Clara wasn't going to get in the middle of this right there, so she took off, pulling out of the convenience store and back onto the highway.

"Sorry," the girl said.

"What the fuck is going on? Why did you get in my car?"

"I panicked. I'm so sorry. My name is Wendy Hinshaw," she said. "That asshole back there was my boyfriend, Deacon. Or soon to be ex-boyfriend."

"What were you two fighting over?"

"He's a jealous and controlling asshole. He thought I was flirting with the clerk when I got cigarettes."

"The clerk? He was a fifty-year-old Iranian guy," Clara said.

"That's what I said. A bit old for me. But Deacon thinks I'm a total whore and that I fuck anything and everything that moves if I'm out of his sight at all."

"Wow. Why do you stay with him?"

Wendy turned and opened her mouth as she pulled her cheek back. Clara looked and saw she was missing two molars.

"Last time I tried to leave he punched me hard in the side of the face. Lost two teeth over it and broke my cheekbone."

"Jesus Christ." Clara was feeling bad for Wendy but was currently terrified for herself. This girl's abusive sociopath boyfriend was now after her too. "He's going to follow us, isn't he?"

Wendy looked out the back window.

"I don't see him now, but he probably will."

"Why don't you call the cops?" Clara asked.

"He is a cop."

Great. She was now on some abusive psycho cop's radar.

"Oh."

"So, where are we headed?" Wendy asked.

"I'm headed to Austin. I'm meeting up with some friends there. It's a long drive, though; I can drop you off somewhere."

"No. Austin sounds nice. I need to get away from Dallas. Maybe they won't put up with Deacon's shit down there."

Fuck. Wendy had a point. There was almost nothing in between here and Austin. Wendy looked out the back window again and tapped Clara on the shoulder.

"Oh shit," she said.

"What?" Clara asked.

"That's him. That's Deacon's car," she said pointing to a roadster behind them. He was driving fast and gaining on them. Before Clara knew it, he was right up on her bumper, even tapping it, causing the car to fishtail. She couldn't outrun him. She was in a ten-year-old Toyota Corolla. She wouldn't stand a chance against his sports car. Instead, she moved over to the middle lane. He followed. She stayed there until an exit ramp appeared on the far right. Clara jerked the wheel to her right, darting through the right lane, narrowly missing a pickup truck and onto the exit ramp.

Since she'd swerved into traffic so quickly, Deacon didn't have a chance to react in time and sped past the ramp as the Clara pulled onto the access road. Wendy squealed as Clara slowed the car down. She wasn't quite as jovial as Wendy. The guy no doubt would exit at the next ramp. As they reached an intersection, Clara turned right instead of going parallel with the freeway. She was going to have to take some backroads to lose this guy for good.

Chapter 3

Deacon struggled to keep the car under control. That fucking cunt! And who was that bitch giving her a ride? Was that a friend of hers? Did she have that bitch here waiting for her? Didn't matter. Once he caught up to them they were both fucking dead. He knew he'd said that before, and he always calmed down, but not this time. This time, she'd gone too far.

She always threatened to leave; this was nothing new. He knew she would never leave. Who else would take her? She was mildly attractive at best. That and she was batshit crazy. No one would want to deal with that psycho. She was lucky to have him. Too bad she couldn't remember that. He slowed the car once they drove off the exit ramp. He continued to the next exit where he got off as well. He pulled off to the side, hoping he'd passed them on the access road. If so, they'd be driving by soon.

After a couple minutes, there was no sign of them. No way could they have passed here already, not at the speed he was going after they exited. He looped around and doubled back to where they’d gotten off. He crossed on the cross street and pulled over again. Where the fuck had they gone? In one direction, there was road construction a mile down. So, he headed off in the opposite direction. They had to be going that way. Stupid whore, thinking she'd lose him; as if he hadn't tracked a lot more savvy and dangerous people than her.

He followed the road for several miles, but there was nothing in sight. He hadn't even seen another car. Through the straightaways, he drove almost 120 miles per hour hoping to sneak up on them, but there was only wilderness. He drove to the thick woods just ahead. It looked out of place with nothing but grass and farmland for the last twenty or thirty miles.

Once driving through the woods, the trees seemed to go on forever. The road went from asphalt to gravel as the roadster wound through. Just past one corner, a police car pulled up behind him. This car was one of the old 1990's Crown Victorias. The overhead lights went on as it pulled in behind Deacon.

"What in the fuck?" Deacon said as he pulled over. He didn't think he was speeding. Deacon reached into his wallet and pulled out his badge as the officer approached his car.

"Afternoon, sir. Driver's license and registration please?" the officer whose name tag read "Spurlock" said.

"Hey, man. Sorry if I was speeding. I'm in a bit of a hurry. My girlfriend is missing," he took out his badge and held it up to the officer who just stood motionless. "You see that? Dallas P.D. I'm off duty now. I think my girl is in trouble and may have come this way. Have you seen her?" Deacon waited, but the cop didn't respond. "Hello?"

"Dallas P.D. huh?" Spurlock said.

"Yeah. That's right."

"Let me ask you something. Does this here look like Dallas to you?"

"What?"

Spurlock whipped off his sunglasses and leaned closer.

"I said. Does this look like Dallas to you?"

"No, it definitely doesn't look like Dallas. I'm just looking for a bit of professional courtesy," Deacon said.

"See, here's the thing. You sit there in your fancy car calling yourself the law. Around here we only got one law. Me. That shiny city badge don't mean shit here."

Great. Last thing he needed was to deal with some hotshot small town cop.

"Look, I just…"

"Why don't you step out of the car," Spurlock said as he stepped to the side. Deacon shook his head as he climbed out. Spurlock was much shorter than he was. If this turned into a fight, no doubt he could knock the little cop on his ass. Not to mention he had his own piece stuffed down the back of his pants. He'd used it plenty of times on duty before. This guy wouldn't stand a chance.

"Ok, I'm out. What is this about? You don't like us city folk? You got to send a message? I get it. Message received. You're in charge. Can you just give me whatever ticket, so I can go?"

"You think you got this all figured out, don't ya? You just come rolling through here in your fancy car, flashing your shiny badge around. You think that's all you gotta do, and little cops like me will just start shaking in our boots."

"Look, man, I'm not sure what I did to piss you off. Just tell me, what is the problem?" As he spoke, Deacon slowly worked his hand to the back of his jeans to reach for the gun. Before he could get ahold of it, Spurlock had whipped out his baton, smacked Deacon in the arm and then cracked him in the kneecap. Deacon screamed as he fell to the ground.

"Jesus Christ," Deacon yelled. "What the fuck?"

Spurlock hit him in the gut with the end of the baton and pulled the gun out of the back of Deacon's jeans.

"Looking for this, city boy?" Spurlock said. "Didn't think a little cop like me could take you down, did you?"

"Motherfucker," Deacon said as he got to his feet, but Spurlock was too quick. The baton was like an extension of his body as he twirled it like a baton twirler in a parade, except with each twirl he'd strike Deacon in the knee, ribs or back of the head. Each time just hard enough to knock him off balance, but not hard enough for any serious damage. After a few minutes, Deacon was in a blind rage, charging the small cop. This time, Spurlock put some force into his strike as he cracked Deacon on the side of the neck. The blow hit the vagus nerve perfectly. Deacon's legs turned to jelly as his vision went blurry and he collapsed to the ground. As he tried to see through the mental haze, Spurlock stood over him and cuffed his hands behind his back.

"You know, I could have just shot you," Spurlock said. "But this way, I think, will be a lot more fun."

Chapter 4

Carla sat in the stranger's kitchen looking around. They had gotten a flat tire on the gravel road, and this old guy happened to come by offering to help. He hooked a chain up to their car and his pickup truck and towed them back to his house, which sat at the end of a trail a ways off the road. Wendy seemed freaked out, but Carla thought the guy was just a nice old man, if not a little bit weird.

They sat in his kitchen as he poured them each a glass of lemonade.

"My grandson Chet will be here in a bit. He'll fix that tire right up for ya," the old man said.

"Thank you," Carla answered. “I don't believe you told us your name.”

"Oh. How rude of me. I'm Roger. Roger Myers. It's just me and Chet here. We got a few neighbors down the way. Some of them are a bit strange, but mostly mean well, I suppose."

"Really? We didn't see any other houses."

"Yeah, you wouldn't. Most of us out here are off the gridders. I built a windmill out back that generates enough power for a small town. We dug us some wells too. Ground was tough as hell, but we got ‘em dug. So we just sustain ourselves out here. It's a simple life."

Carla thought for a second it might be nice to live in such a way. No hustle and bustle of the big city. Living off the land, being one with nature. And then she remembered how much she liked TV, fast food, and her smartphone and the thought quickly faded.

"Sounds really nice, though," she said.

"When will Chet be here?" Wendy asked.

"Should be any time. He was helping the neighbors with a problem earlier."

"Well, we're in kind of a hurry," Wendy continued but Carla smacked her arm. Carla wanted to get to Austin too, but being rude to this guy wasn't going to help them. She'd tried calling Ben or Nicole, but there was no signal at all.

"I wonder what this is about." Roger said looking out the window.

"What's wrong?"

"Deputy Spurlock is pulling up. He usually never comes by here unless there's some problem, which isn't very often."

They heard a car door slam, and soon there was a knock at the front door. Carla could see the deputy from the kitchen table. He was short, almost shorter than her, and rather skinny. His uniform looked a bit baggy on him, as if he was a kid playing policeman. He wore a cowboy hat and sunglasses.

"Hey Deputy Spurlock, come on in," Roger said. "What can I do for ya?"

"Looks like my answer is sitting right here," Spurlock said, looking at the girls. "Guy came through here earlier saying his girlfriend was out this way and missing. I'm gonna bet one of them is her."

"I'm not his girlfriend!" Wendy said standing up. "He's an abusive asshole! I'm trying to get away from him."

"He told me you'd say that, ma'am. Problem is, he's a man of the law. Now, as a man of the law myself, I can't just disregard that. He said you got in a bit of trouble up in Dallas."

"What kind of trouble? He's full of shit!"

"He said you were involved in a robbery. And this here girl was your accomplice. Driving the getaway car and all."

This time, it was Carla's turn to stand up.

"What the fuck? Are you crazy?" she said. "We didn't rob shit. I'm headed to Austin to meet with some friends."

"I'm afraid you're not gonna make it for a bit. I have to take you both back to the station. We can sort this all out there."

"Are we under arrest?" Carla asked.

"For the time being, yes, you are. This guy, Deacon he said his name was, he's at the station now. Come along, and don't give me any problems."

Wendy jumped up and began backing away.

"Fuck this! I'm not going back to him. I'm not gonna be around him. Carla! You hear this? This is bullshit!"

"I hear it," Carla said.

"Now, I don't need to handcuff you two as long as you cooperate. Come along real quiet and we can handle all this civilly. If not, then I may have to get ugly."

"Come on, Wendy," Carla said. "Let's just see what this is about and get on our way. No point fighting with a cop."

"No! No, I can't. You saw him; you saw what he did. They're going to make me go back with him!"

"We don't have to go back with Deacon," Carla said. "Let's just see what this is about." She turned to the deputy. "We don't have to go back with him, right?"

"Not if you didn't do nothing, you won't."

"See? It'll be fine. Let's just go clear this up."

Wendy took a step toward them and looked at Roger, who was standing by the sink taking it all in.

"Don't worry, girls. When Chet gets back, I'll have him fix your car right up. It'll be all ready for you when you finish up there," he said.

"See?" Carla said.

"Fine." Wendy relaxed as they walked toward the door next to Spurlock.

"Just go on out and have a seat in my car. See? Nice and easy. No handcuffs or anything. I can be reasonable. I just ask that you all do the same," Spurlock said as they went outside. Once in the car, Spurlock pulled out and they headed back onto the gravel road. Carla had no idea what this was about but hoped it would be over soon. She hated to think this way, but this could be her chance to be rid of Wendy and be on her way. She realized the girl was a victim, but Carla had enough going on in her own life, without Wendy's drama as well. In a few minutes, they reached a worn down building that had a hand painted sign at the top that said "Sheriff’s Department." While it looked strange to Carla, she just hoped it would all be over with quickly.

Chapter 5

They got into the sheriff’s department, and Spurlock steered them toward the back where there was a row of cells. There wasn't much in the department at all. There was a single desk with a rotary dial phone and an old fashioned typewriter. The desk itself looked like it was ancient. Carla thought the whole place looked like something out of an Andy Griffith episode. In the first cell was Deacon. He sat up when he saw them and ran to the bars. Wendy stepped behind Carla as if he were about to bust through.

"There you are! Let me out of here! That's her! That's my girlfriend! Wendy! Wendy, what's going on? This guy is crazy!"

"Why is he in jail?" Carla asked. "Didn't you say he was here saying we had charges or something?"

"Just shut your mouth and keep walking," he said.

"Hey!" Deacon screamed. "I know you can hear me! Hey!"

Spurlock whipped out his baton and smacked the bars in front of Deacon, causing him to jump back. As they got further down, Carla saw someone she hadn't expected to see.

"Ben? Nicole? What are you guys doing here? Ben, what happened to your face?" she said when they were in a pair of cells side by side. His face was bruised, and his nose was bent in a weird shape and swollen with dried blood all over his face. Ben jumped up and reached his hand out to Carla, but Spurlock whacked him with the baton.

"Hands to yerself!" he said.

"Carla, I'm sorry. How'd you get stuck here? Were you coming to see us?"

"Yeah, that was the plan. I got sidetracked because this girl needed help. We had to take a detour and ended up out here. Why are you here?"

"We were going to check out this art festival just past Austin. We thought it was up this way, or at least we'd heard. We got off the highway to loop back around because we thought we missed our exit. I'm not sure exactly which way I turned, but before I knew it, we were getting pulled over by Barney Fife over there. He beat me with his baton and roughed up Nicole. Never did tell us why we were under arrest. He called this place Psychoville, which I can't argue with," Ben explained.

"You shut the fuck up now. Get a move on, get in them cells on the end," Spurlock said.

"So we're under arrest?" Carla asked.

"Yeah, you're under arrest."

"For what?"

"Carla, don't argue with him. He doesn't fuck around. Look what he did to me!" Ben called out. For the first time since they'd arrived, Carla felt truly afraid. This cop, so far, had lied to them about being accused of a crime in Dallas. She was pretty sure that if Deacon were here to extradite them, he wouldn't be locked up screaming in a cell. Ben looked like he just had ten guys kick his ass. Something was definitely wrong, but she didn't want to stir things up any further, until she could process some of this. Without arguing, she stepped inside the cell.

Wendy, on the other hand, wasn't being as reserved. She began screaming.

"I'm not going in there! You can't do this! We have rights! I want my lawyer!" Wendy yelled and screamed. Spurlock backhanded her across the face, knocking her off balance as he pushed her into the cell and pulled the door closed. He locked Carla into her cell and turned to walk away. Carla looked around. Nicole wasn't looking well. She was sitting on the ground in the corner hugging her legs.

"What's going on, Ben? This is too fucking weird," Carla said.

"No shit. I don't know. They stopped us, and he made us get out of the car. I asked why we were stopped, and he started beating on me. It was fucking crazy."

"They told us that guy on the end was a Dallas cop. I guess he is, but he said he was here investigating some robbery up in Dallas and wanted to question us. We get here, and everyone is locked up."

"I don't know. We got here a few hours ago. The only time we've seen him was to bring someone else here."

Carla looked, and Spurlock was at his desk holding a phone up to his ear. She listened, trying to hear who he was talking to. She had to strain to hear him, and Deacon, still screaming his head off, made the task rather difficult. She can't imagine how Wendy had stayed with him for however long. She'd barely had a single interaction with him, and she already hated him.

"Yeah," Spurlock said. "Get everyone together. I got a bunch. We can do the auction this evening. What? I don't know, I got five of them, that's good for now. A couple the Oswalds might like for their movies. I don't know, come down and see for yourself. Bring everyone. As usual highest bidder gets first pick. No, I haven't seen the sheriff today. I haven't seen him in a few days. You know how he is. Ok, yeah bring everyone in a couple hours." Spurlock hung up.

Auction? Movies? Bidders? Carla had no idea what all that was about, but none of it sounded good. If she didn't know better, it sounded like he was going to auction them off. Holy shit? Was he going to sell them off to be sex slaves? She tried to quell the panic as her mind spun through all the various and horrific scenarios. Once Spurlock got off the phone, he walked over to Carla's cell and looked around.

"You're scared, aren't ya?" he asked. She replied with only a nod.

"Good," he said. "You should be. I have to make a confession. I wasn't totally honest with you earlier. There are not really robbery charges out of Dallas."

"I kind of figured that," Carla said.

"Good. You're a smart one. Or, could be bad. Depends."

"So if there's no charges and we're not under arrest, what exactly is all this?"

"Let's put it this way," Spurlock said. "As much trouble as you thought you were in before, it's about ten times worse than that."

Chapter 6

Danielle Tolley sat chained to the wall, wishing they'd just kill her already. Her earlier escape attempt led her right to that sheriff’s deputy who she thought would help her, only to find out he's one of them. This whole town was fucking crazy, and now here she was. Chester was furious with her. She thought for sure he was going to beat her senseless, but he didn't lay a hand on her. He just brought her back and chained her back up.

Ollie wanted to punch her in the face, but Chester told him no. Not until they were filming, he said. They talked about snuff films, which she’d heard about, but had never thought they actually existed. Turns out, they do. The other girl across from her had been staring up at the ceiling since she'd returned. They'd talked for a bit before Danielle escaped. Her name was Colleen Cassidy. Since Danielle had returned, Colleen hadn't so much as looked at her. Danielle wondered if they hurt her while she was gone. If they had, it was all her fault. Danielle wanted to be free, but she hated the idea that her escape would leave this girl to certain death. But since she'd gotten caught, none of that mattered now. Both girls were naked and cold as someone opened a door.

"Ok, showtime, ladies," Chester said as Ollie and an older man, she figured this was their dad, Daryl came in and sat up a camera on a tripod as well as a boom mic that Ollie was holding. A fourth person came walking in behind them, this one much shorter. It was a girl.

"You haven't met one of our top performers yet. This is our sister, Echo. She'll be the one um…working with you all."

Echo had on a black tank top, had tattoos up and down her arms and had on black shorts with fishnet stockings. She looked the girls up and down, smirking.

"Man, these ones are cute. I'll have some fun with them," she said.

"Just make sure you drag it out. Our buyers want their money's worth. Last time, you finished way too fast."

"Yeah, yeah. I can't help it the last one couldn't handle me."

She walked over to Danielle and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Oh, she's so silky. I'll start with this one."

"Start what? What are you going to do?" Danielle asked. Echo looked over at Chester.

"Why is it talking to me?" she asked.

"Just tell her. You ain't that big a star you can't talk to the extras."

"She's not an extra. She's a fucking prop."

"Whatever."

Echo looked down at Danielle.

"So bitch, you don't know what a snuff film is?"

"I've heard of them."

"Right," Echo said. "So what's gonna happen is, I'm gonna get naked with you all and then I'm going to fuck you and fuck up each of you until dead. It will hurt too, like a lot. You'll be screaming like a wild fucking banshee whose pussy is on fire!"

"No! Why?"

"Seriously? Because it's fun, and it pays me a lot of green, ya stupid cunt! God, this is why I don't talk to you dumbasses. Are we ready yet?"

"Just about," Daryl said as he got the film ready in the camera. After another minute, he gave her a thumbs up. Echo stood and removed her tank top and shorts. She was completed naked except for the fishnet stockings. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and pulled the girl away from the wall. Danielle tried to kick at her, but was met with a slap to the face. Echo loosened the chains so she could pull her further out and walked to the corner of the room and dug into a bag. She came out with a shiny strap on dildo and a large knife.

As she got closer, Danielle was able to see why the dildo looked so shiny. There was a knife strapped to the end of it. Danielle screamed at the sight of the monstrosity, which only made Echo laugh.

"Oh, you like my new toy? It's very effective; although I prefer not to use it on myself. I think you'll like it, it cuts through all the bullshit! Haha!" Echo's laugh was almost maniacal as she approached.

As Echo walked, the erect dildo of death bobbed up and down. Danielle rolled onto her stomach trying to get away, but Echo grabbed her by the hair and knelt down behind her. She felt the blade go into her asshole with such force she couldn't even scream.

The blade shredded her rectum as it sliced away at her colon with each plunge. The smack-smack sound of each thrust became increasingly more liquid as blood and tissue secreted from the maw of what was an anus. Danielle finally got her breath and let out the loudest most blood-curdling scream she could. The pain was unimaginable. Echo had been right; it was as if someone had lit her asshole on fire and was pouring lighter fluid over it.

After several minutes of what felt like hours, Echo pulled out and moved to Danielle's side.

"See, bitch? We're going to have us a good old time. For this one, I need you to hold really still. I don't want to hit your liver," she said as she thrust the sharp dildo into Danielle's side, causing another scream. She fucked the new hole for several more minutes, thrusting and pounding as blood sprayed and bubbled from the unnatural opening. Danielle could feel the blade hitting her stomach and intestines.

Despite the pain, she held her breath for fear any movement and she'd have her stomach punctured, if it wasn't already. Echo stopped and rolled Danielle over who was now too bloody and weakened to fight back. She positioned herself between her legs and lined up the dildo blade with Danielle's pussy. She looked up at Danielle smiling.

"Now for the good part. Sorry, though, I don't have any protection." She said, laughing as she thrust it inside of her.

Chapter 7

Carla watched as various people came parading into the station. It was like a who's who of the freakshow. There was a couple of brothers, Ollie and Chester. They were the ones talking about making movies. There was a tall man wearing a black robe with a hood. He had the hood pulled down and long white hair with a beard. He was like Obi-Wan Kenobi meets Gandalf. There were several other people crowded inside as well.

"Ok folks, you all know the drill," Spurlock said. "I got a good group here. Don't call out your bids. Write it down on the papers I handed out to you and pass it to me."

"Where is the sheriff?" The black robe guy asked.

"He's been busy," Spurlock answered. "So I'm in charge."

"The sheriff does the auctions. When did he say you could do the auctions?"

"If you don't want to take part, you're free to go. No telling when we'll get another group in. Hell, all these assholes know each other. Should make it more interesting," Spurlock explained.

The robed guy said nothing and looked around. The rest of the group began writing on papers and handing them to Spurlock. He flipped through the papers and looked the group over. Deacon had finally stopped screaming at one point. Carla was glad, her head couldn't take anymore.

"Ok, here's what we got. The dorky guy in the middle," Spurlock said walking toward Ben.

"My name is Ben!" he said.

"No one cares. Won't matter by tomorrow anyway." He opened the door and grabbed Ben by the collar. "You're going with these nice folks."

"Who?"

From the group, several girls emerged. There were four of them ranging in age from teenagers to one in her sixties at least. The old one wore an eye patch, and all of them were missing at least half their teeth.

"These lovely ladies are the Hyatt girls. They'll take good care of ya,"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ben asked as one of the girls placed a noose around his neck that was attached to a pole, similar to the ones used by animal control. She pulled on it, dragging Ben along. He tried to swat at her, but she pulled on it, cinching the noose tight until he gagged, and then letting it loose.

"Don't you fuck with me, boy!" the girl said. "I'll shove this here stick so far up your ass that steel will be the only thing you will ever taste again!"

One of the younger girls undid Ben's pants and pulled them down.

"What is she doing? What's going on?" he said as the girl began fondling his penis. He twisted his hips trying to pull away, but the girl tightened the noose again. The other women reached in and began groping his dick when Spurlock finally spoke up.

"Come on now! That's enough, take him home and play with him all you want. We gotta move on," he shouted. The girls stopped playing and walked out, dragging Ben along. Seeing him go made Carla sick to her stomach. This guy had been like an older brother to her for so long. He looked back at Nicole as they dragged him out.

"Ben!" Nicole screamed, but he was already gone. Nicole sat in her cell crying as Spurlock read through more papers.

"Ok, next. Ben's girlfriend." Spurlock said opening Nicole's cell.

"What? No!"

"Sorry. You're going with our good wizard over here," Spurlock said pointing to the robe guy.

"I'm not a wizard. I am a high priest to the great Cthulhu." The man said.

"Whatever, come on lady." He grabbed Nicole and dragged her out. She was sobbing uncontrollably now, not even putting up a fight. The robed guy grabbed her by the arm and walked with her toward the door.

"Come along," he said. "The dark lord will be pleased with you." They walked out as Nicole continued crying. Carla's heart sank. A realization was hitting her that they were not going to leave this place alive. Spurlock went through more papers when the back door opened and slammed shut.

"You all having a party without me?" A girl called out. "I am deeply hurt! Really! I am!" In the doorway stood a girl with long hair, wearing a black tank top, shorts and covered in tattoos.

Spurlock looked up and rolled his eyes.

"Mind your manners, Echo. Let the boys take care of this."

"Where's the sheriff? You ain't in charge of shit," she said.

"That don't matter to you. Now, get on now!" Spurlock said.

"I don't know. The sheriff likes me a lot. I wonder if he knows you're playing sheriff around here. Be a shame if he found out."

"Now, what is that supposed to mean?" the color flushed from Spurlock's face.

"Well. He's always liked me. He calls me his little bird. What if a little bird told him what you was up to? He might come out to check on things."

"Echo, you behave now," Spurlock warned. He looked at the Oswald boys. "You guys ain't gonna get your sister under control?"

"Hey, she's a big girl. I don't want her pissed at me. I've seen her movies. I film them," Chester said as Ollie laughed.

"Oh don't panic, deputy, but it is pretty cute, you getting all flustered and such. How about you just let us take these last three for our film and we'll be on our way," she said. There were some other families there who hadn't bid yet who protested.

"Hey! You can bid like the rest of us!" One woman yelled from the back.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch, or I'll come over there and cut out your fucking ovaries and feed them to you!" Echo called back. She looked genuinely crazy, as the woman took a few steps back even though they were already twenty feet away from each other. Echo turned back to Spurlock.

"So, what do ya say? I just might forget all about this next time I see the sheriff."

Color returned to Spurlock's face, but this time a dark red as he shook his head.

"Ok. Fine. Take them." He tossed her his keys and walked off.

"Don't come crying to me when another one escapes!" He yelled before he went outside. Echo laughed as she put the key in the lock at Carla's cell and looked at her.

"We're gonna have fun girls," Echo said. "Ollie, go get that boyfriend out. He's coming too!" she said pointing at Deacon. As she opened Carla's cell, she looked up at her.  "But either one of you tries any shit, and I'll gut you both like fucking pigs.

Chapter 8

Nicole sat in the small cage looking around the tiny cabin. There was another man in a cage next to hers. The cages were just large enough for them to sit up in, but slightly hunched over. The man next to her was sobbing continuously. He was even snorting and as she looked over he had a trail of snot running down from his nose, onto his shirt.

"Hey," she said. Tears were streaking down Nicole's face, but she at least had some control over herself.

"Hello," the man sobbed.

"I'm Nicole Johnson."

"Clint. Clint Thiele. Did you just get here?"

"Yeah. We got pulled over by that crazy deputy, and he flipped out on us."

"Same here. I'm not even sure how we ended up in this town. It's not on any maps," he said.

Before Nicole could reply, the priest came into the room. He still had on the robe, and the hood pulled down as his long, white hair draped over it. He walked over to the cages and knelt down.

"Hello there, I suppose I've been rather rude. I'm Linderman, the high priest of the Great Cthulhu. You have both been chosen as His sacrifices. Such an honor this is for you! Through your pain and suffering, the Dark Lord shall be honored and strengthened. Your lives will finally have meaning. Most people would never get this opportunity. Isn't this exciting?"

His enthusiasm gave Nicole chills. She wasn't sure what kind of pain and suffering he had in mind, but she'd as soon take a pass on it.

"Look, Mr. Linderman," she began. "I'm sure you're a very loyal priest to the um…to…"

"Cthulhu," he corrected

"Yes.  Thank you. To Cthulhu. You see the thing is, neither of us worships such a being. So sacrificing us to him would just be a big waste of time." Nicole said.

"No, the Dark Lord is pleased with all human flesh sacrificed to Him. It is the pain in which He is appeased. Through your suffering, He shall be glorified." He held his hands into the air as he spoke. He could easily pass himself off as some kind of hippy if he hadn't been talking about human sacrifice.

"Please, Mr. Linderman," Clint said. "I have a family. We just had a baby girl. Please let me go home to her."

"I'm afraid not. But your little girl would be proud knowing her father has become a part of Lord Cthulhu Himself!"

"But—" Clint began, but Linderman cut him off.

"That's enough for now. It's almost time." He stood and walked back outside as Clint and Nicole looked at each other.

"I don't want to die," Clint said.

"Yeah, well I don't want to suffer either. If he's going to kill us, he could at least do it painlessly. It sounds like he's going to make it hurt."

The door opened as Linderman came back inside. He knelt down and opened Nicole's cage, but held out a cattle prod to keep her from trying to escape. Once it was open, he grabbed the noose on a stick, exactly like the one the ladies used to walk Ben with. He put it around her neck, pulling her out of the cage. He walked her outside, where it was now dark, and over to a tree. There were about a dozen other people standing around all wearing robes like Linderman's. Whatever fucked up cult this was, she wanted no part of it but was, unfortunately, the centerpiece of their festivities.

Someone behind her pulled her hands behind the tree and tied them in place. They ran the thin rope around her ankles and waist, tying her around the tree before Linderman took the noose off. Once it was off, there was cheering as the cabin door opened and another man came out with a noose stick dragging Clint along. Clint was crying and struggling as they dragged him to a huge stone pit.

Inside the pit was a stack of sticks and branches with some kind of metal cage suspended above it. They lowered the cage as they dragged Clint over and pushed him inside. The man removed the noose as they stripped his clothes off and then closed the door and locked it.

"What's going on?" Clint called out. "What am I doing in here? Please! Why are you doing this?"

They ignored him as they milled about mumbling among themselves. This went on for several minutes as one man pulled on a chain, raising the cage into the air about twenty feet above the pit. They stepped back forming a circle as Clint sat in the cage suspended above the pit screaming.

"Get me out of here! Let me down! Please! I have money! I can pay you all lots of money! I won't tell the police or anything! I promise! Please?"

Linderman stepped out from the group and faced them.

"My brothers and sisters, we are here to offer this special sacrifice to our Dark Father, the good Lord Cthulhu lest He awakens and be pleased with our sacrifice. Oh Dark One, please accept the suffering of this lost soul and be sufficient for your glory. We now commit to you, his pain and suffering." Linderman stepped away as a hooded man in the group lit a torch and stepped up to the pit, igniting the mass of wood into a huge bonfire.

The flames rose up, just a few feet short of the cage as Clint's screaming had now reached maddening levels. Nicole didn't blame him. She hadn't realized it, but she was screaming as well. Suddenly the cage began slowly lowering into the fire. It would go down a foot or two and stop. Clint tried to climb the cage and avoid the flames but he didn't have much room to go.

He hopped around as the steel heated up. His flesh began to sizzle on the hot metal as his screams became shriller. If you couldn't see him, you'd think there was a teenage girl in the cage by the sound of it. He shrieked as the steel burned through his feet, patches of skin popping as he was lowered further into the fire.

Soon Nicole could no longer hear him as his vocal chords became dry before melting inside his throat. His eyeballs popped out of their sockets as white fluid burst to cause the flames to sizzle. Nicole looked away as Clint was now silent. After a minute, she looked up to see the cage now sitting in the middle of the pit surrounded by flames. The robed people around the pit were now cheering as they all removed their robes. They were all naked underneath. The group consisted of men and women, some elderly and some much younger. They all piled onto each other in a massive orgy.

Nicole watched as Linderman bent a young man over and humped him as the man sucked another man's cock. Once he finished, he removed his cock from the young man's ass and began fucking an older woman doggy style. Nicole felt her stomach lurch both as the smell of Clint's charred corpse filled her nose, and the sight and sounds of this bizarre orgy assaulted her senses. Linderman made some animalistic grunting sounds as he pounded away while the others moaned and grunted with abandon.

Unable to hold it back any further, Nicole threw up, some of it all over her chest and feet as she couldn't lean forward but a few inches. The mob ignored her as they kept humping away on each other, changing partner to partner. She closed her eyes and prayed to whatever deity may be listening to rescue her from this nightmare.

Chapter 9

"Let me go! Stop that!" Ben screamed, but the girl kept playing with his dick. The girl had to be no older than fifteen or sixteen and was missing one eye and all her front teeth. She kept smiling and giggling as she stroked his cock, which became hard despite his trying to fight it. His body betrayed him as it showed arousal at the bizarre stimulation.

"That's good, Judy!" An older woman yelled across the cabin. "Get him real good and hard. We got a special present for him!"

Ben couldn't move as he was naked and tied to a pole in the middle of the cabin. They'd stripped his clothes off and laughed at his less than adequate manhood. Needless to say, it was big enough for this girl to play with.

"What do you want from me? Please stop this!" he screamed.

The old woman came stumbling across the room and slapped him in the face. Despite her frail appearance, the slap had some force behind it, stinging the side of his face.

"Quit yer bitchin! My girls don't whine and cry the way you have since you got here. Now my girl wants to play with your cock, so she gets to play! Keep it up and I'll just cut the fucker off! You want that?"

Ben shook his head frantically.

"Good!" the old woman turned and went back to whatever it was she had been doing while the girl now had his cock in her mouth, sucking on it as if it were a  rape'sicle. Finally, the girl stood and bent over in front of him, lifting her dress and pushing herself up against his cock as he slid inside of her. He closed his eyes and bit his lip as the young girl fucked herself on his cock. Her wet pussy tightened around his cock as it made a squishy sound with each thrust.

After several minutes, the girl squealed as she climaxed. Once she finished, she stood and pulled her dress back down and called out.

"Ok! I'm done!"

Ben felt sick, but also relieved that she was finished. At least until two more girls came in. They were also missing teeth, but at least they had both their eyes. Though one of their noses was curled back to where it almost looked like a snout. They began slopping on his cock and balls, even snorting as they licked and sucked. Ben tried to hold back tears as they took turns fucking his cock. The snout face girl even wrapped her legs around him and rode him cowgirl style standing up. Once they each finished the one-eyed girl returned with a goat on a leash.

"See guys, Sparky been lonely," she said. "Let him give Sparky some lovin'!"

"Yeah!" the other girls squealed as she brought the goat over. Ben struggled and fought against his restraints but was unable to move as one girl grabbed his cock and the other lined up the goat with him as they shoved his cock inside the goat. It let out a loud squeal as the one of girls looked up at Ben.

"Fuck it. Go on, fuck it!" she said.

"Fuck you!" Ben screamed. "You fuck it!"

The girl whipped out a straight razor and pressed it to his neck, just enough to draw some droplets of blood.

"You fuck it, or I'll slice your fucking head off!" She ordered.

Ben let out a cry as he began thrusting his hips in and out of the goat as it squealed with each thrust. He moved faster and faster, hoping they'd let him be done soon. After several minutes, his hips began to get sore, as he slowed down.

"Keep going!" the girl yelled as he tried to speed up again. He continued until he was nearing exhaustion. Finally, after almost thirty minutes they took the goat away who reared back and kicked him in the nuts with its hind legs. Ben screamed as he felt his testicles burst, at least they felt like they burst. He tried to double himself over, but couldn't bend over but a few inches. The girls sat and laughed while the old one pointed and cackled.

"Old Sparky just dick-kicked him!"

The girls continued laughing as Ben cried. The pain shot through his groin, into his abdomen, and even made his head throb. He struggled to get his breath, but the pain wasn't subsiding. His legs had given out as he began to slump to the floor. The restraints dug into his wrists as he slid down the pole.

"Aww now looky what you done!" the old woman said. "You went and broke him!"

The girls took Sparky away as Ben stopped crying and passed out. One of the girls untied him to check on him. She laid him out flat on his back.

"Is he dead?" the one-eyed girl asked.

"I'm not sure. I don't think so," the other girl said. "Looks like he's breathing."

Ben's eyes shot open as he sat up, punched the girl closest to him and ran out the door.

"Get him!" the old woman called out.

Ben was still in a lot of pain as he ran out the door and into the woods. The sticks and rocks cut into his bare feet as he ran, trying to put as much distance between himself and the girls as possible. It was dark outside, and he had no idea in which he was going. Branches and barbs scraped against his bare skin adding to the misery he already had. Turning and looking behind himself, he could no longer see or hear the girls. He didn't see the tree he ran straight into, which knocked him flat on his ass while knocking the wind out of him.

He lay flat on his back, coughing and trying to get his wind back. Before he could do so, there was a large boot on his chest. He looked up to see a dark figure standing over him. In the low moonlight, he could just make out the man's face, but it wasn't really a face. The guy was smiling wide. His face was deformed, leathery, and misshapen with cracks throughout his skin. Except, it wasn't a mask. It was his actual face. At first, Ben forced a smile back as the man smiled at him. Perhaps he was there to help. Until the man held a chainsaw just inches from Ben's face.

"No!" Ben cried out as he closed his eyes. The last thing he heard was the sound of the chainsaw starting.

Chapter 10

When Carla, Wendy, and Deacon arrived in the little studio, she was shocked at the sight of Colleen chained to the corner. There was dried blood in the middle of the floor that smelled somewhat fresh. There were lights and camera equipment set up and even a green screen on one wall. Deacon looked around and despite all of them having the nooses around their necks, he smiled.

"Damn, so we gonna film a foursome with me and the girls?" he asked.

"God, you're such a sick fuck!" Wendy said.

"Hey, pussy's pussy. Besides, not like I'm getting any from your bitch-ass."

"Shut up, loverboy," Chester said. "This isn't Debbie Does Dallas. Echo is the star of these here movies."

That really lit his eyes up since Echo was a hot little metal chick. His smile grew as their captors looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Echo came walking in at that moment looking them up and down.

"Why are they still dressed? Strip them all and let's get started; we're gonna have some fun with this bunch. This will be like our life's work right here," she said.

"Life's work?" Chester asked. "You remember what kind of films we make, right?"

"Yeah, but every genre has the top of their game. We can be at the top of ours."

"I don't know if there is anyone else even in our game," Ollie said.

"Whatever. Just get them naked and chain them up. I'll be back." She said as she walked out. The men tightened the nooses on the group just slightly.

"All of you, strip," Chester ordered. The captives all looked at each other as if he were bluffing, but the men tightened their nooses even more, causing them each to gag. They released them as Chester ordered them to strip once more; this time they got the hint. They each removed their clothes, stripping down to their underwear.

"Let's go, lose the undies," Chester ordered. They did as commanded, and all the while Deacon kept looking Carla up and down.

"Damn girl, you've got some serious tits," he said.

Carla immediately felt sick at the thought of him checking her out. The guy was everything she hated in men. Not to say that she hated men, she loved men, but guys like this were something else. Deacon was like every horrible male trait rolled up in a single awful package. While she feared for her life, part of her wouldn't shed any tears at seeing Deacon get killed. Hopefully, he'd go first. She put her hands on her chest trying to hide what she could from him.

"Ok, against the wall folks," Ollie said as they moved them toward the wall where the men each shackled their hands to the chains before letting them out of their noose.

"What is all this? What are you going to do with us?" Carla finally asked.

"You all are gonna be movie stars!" Chester said laughing.

"Yeah. Real big stars! Haha," Ollie chimed in.

They kept laughing as Carla's stomach lurched again. She had a feeling this was some kind of fucked up porn studio. Except with the blood all over, it was something much more terrifying than porn. She tried to move her arms, but they only had a little movement due to the chains. The other girl sitting in the corner hadn't so much as looked them. Soon the door opened, and Echo came walking back in.

This time, she was wearing a black, silk robe and had her hair pulled back into a ponytail.

"Well, isn't this a lovely bunch," she said. "I got an idea. I want to try something different."

"What's that?" Chester asked.

"That guy, the asshole. Put him with that Cassidy girl. I got a feeling he'll be fun to watch with her."

"That's not how we normally do it. Pa, won't like it," Chester protested.

"Pa, will like whatever I want to do. You should know that by now. Let's go."

Deacon looked around as Ollie walked over and unchained him, Chester stood by and pulled a handgun out of his pants, pointing it at Deacon.

"Don't get any funny ideas or I'll blow your brains out," he warned.

"Ok, fine."

"Now what you're gonna do. You're gonna fuck Colleen over here in the corner. She's a bit shy so you'll have to get creative. Mind you we shoot fucking snuff porn here. You know what that is?" Echo said.

"Snuff? Yeah, I heard of it. I didn't know it was a real thing."

"Oh, it's very real, stud. So, don't be gentle, this isn't Jenna Jameson we got here. She's some whore we found who has no other purpose in life but for us to fuck her up. You got it?"

"I guess so."

"Good. You boys ready?"

Ollie was setting up lights as Chester was getting the camera ready.

"We're good."

"Ok, get going loverboy," she said as she undid Colleen's chains. Colleen looked around as if just waking from a deep sleep, as Deacon came walking toward her, his cock swinging about. She looked up and screamed as he knelt down.

"Hey, calm down already," he said as he grabbed her bare shoulders. She lay there and sobbed as he began kissing her neck and along her shoulders. Colleen just cried as Echo cleared her throat loudly.

"Hey, asshole! This isn't Fifty Shades. Fuck her up!" she said.

Colleen's eyes went wide as Deacon proceeded to backhand her across the face. Her head snapped back as she fell onto her back as Deacon mounted her and began fucking her while choking her. She gasped for air as he pounded away, grunting with each thrust.

"Don't choke her to death. Drag it out, make it look good," Echo said. Deacon looked at her and nodded as he loosened his grip. He finished pounding her until he climaxed, letting out a serious of animalistic grunts like he was a wild hog. Once he was done, he grabbed Colleen by the hair as he stood and shoved his cock into her mouth. She gagged as he thrust away holding her hair moving her head back and forth.

"Shit! Don't bite, you bitch!" he yelled as he reared back and punched her in the mouth several times. She screamed as blood sprayed from her mouth and teeth fell to the floor. She tried to scream again, but he shoved his cock back down her throat. She gagged again as blood ran down her throat with each thrust. He pounded away some more before he pushed her to the ground face first and mounted her from behind.

He shoved his cock in her ass as she screamed and gasped for breath; the only lubrication was that of the blood and shit saturating his cock. He grabbed her hair, pulled her head back and smashed her face into the floor. Each time her face came up, her nose sprayed more blood as it crumpled into her skull and then bent to the side. Her eyes and lips were swelling as he grunted with each thrust banging her face into the ground in some kind of grotesque rhythm.

Finally, Deacon came again as he kept smashing her face into the ground; Colleen's face was no longer recognizable. She didn't even look human. She was still breathing, though, as was evidenced by the bloody bubbles coming from her mouth. Deacon looked at her face and jammed his thumb into her eyes socket. She only twitched slightly as he dug around until her eyeball popped out of her head. He smashed the side of her face a bit more to make a bigger hole and shoved his dick into the new opening.

Thrusting away her body twitched and gyrated as his cock slammed into her brain with each thrust. He continued his grunting as he looked back at Echo.

"Damn! This shit feels fucking good!" After a few more thrusts, Colleen stopped twitching, and her body lay still as he fucked her head until he climaxed again. Once he finished, he pulled away and stood. Blood dripped from his cock and covered his chest, hands and thighs. Turning to Echo and the camera he smiled.

"Damn that was fun," Deacon said. "Can I fuck up Carla next?"

Chapter 11

Spurlock sat in the station cleaning out the cages. He hated this part of his job. The toilets didn't actually flush but ran into a septic tank that he had to drain maybe once or twice a year. In this case, that Deacon asshole pissed on the floor. Spurlock hoped Echo fucked him up real good. The rest of them all were the usual fare of whining, crying losers scared of their shadows. Deacon could be a problem. He'd been reluctant to hand him over, but for the time being he wasn't allowed any fun on his own.

It was something he'd argued with the sheriff many times, but the sheriff always won, of course. The sheriff was big on duty. As a deputy of the law, Spurlock's duty was to keep the peace and keep the town moving. Unlike other communities, this town's economy didn't run on cash, but on people. Outsiders were the commodity. It didn't matter their background, race, or social status. In his time, Spurlock had seen some inbred, white-trash hill rats come through, along with the most uppity, rich, stuck-up assholes.

He took more pleasure in tormenting the rich, though. They were so used to getting their way and being pampered; it was fun to watch them squirm as little by little you broke their will. Except, Spurlock could only ever watch. He'd round them up, lock them up, and hand them over. That was the job. He'd been tempted from time to time to sneak one on his own. Capture somebody and take them back to his place, but no doubt the sheriff would know right away. He always knew. Nothing happened in Psychoville without him knowing.

With that thought, a car pulled up outside. Spurlock jumped up and ran to the window. There was the sheriff’s pickup truck sitting outside. Fuck! He was a few days early. He had gone to Dallas for personal business he'd called it. No one else was allowed to leave town except the sheriff. He occasionally visited the outside world to pick up supplies. Whatever reason, he was back, and the latest group of captures were out among the town. Spurlock figured he could do the auction himself, get everyone their people to use up and get it all cleaned up by the time the sheriff was back; so much for that idea. He ran back to his desk and tried to look like he was reading an old paperback.

He picked up the book and flipped through it until the inevitable bell jingled as the sheriff came through the door. Spurlock looked up at the man who filled the doorway. The sheriff was an old fellow, well into his seventies, but tougher than anyone Spurlock had ever known. The man stood there looking around. Spurlock couldn't see his eyes behind the sunglasses he never took off.

"What the fuck is that smell?" The sheriff asked. Spurlock jumped from his seat and walked around the desk.

"Well hey, sheriff! Good to see you back. You're um, back early," Spurlock said.

"Answer my question boy! It smells like piss and shit in here. Yet, there are no prisoners. What the fuck did you do around here while I was gone?"

"I, well. We did have a few. Kind of. I thought…"

"You thought what? You mean we did have prisoners?"

"Like I said, it was…"

"Yes or no son! It's not a trick fuckin' question."

"Yes. Yes, we had a few, like five or six of them."

"And where in the fuck are they now?"

"I um, I did an auction."

"You what?"

"I did an…"

"I fuckin' heard you. You think I'm fuckin' deaf?" The sheriff said. "Jesus H. Christ. So where are they?"

"Um, Linderman has one, Echo and her brothers’ got three of them. She insisted on them. Then the O'Connor girls took one."

"Oh, Christ. Please tell me they were all weaklings at least. I know you don't know how to screen them to make sure no one gets out."

The sheriff was right. He would have probably just killed Deacon on the spot. Anyone who looks or acts like they might be a problem. One time he pulled out his gun and shot a guy right in his car just for mouthing off. Hopefully, Echo would finish Deacon before anything became an issue.

"This was a pretty pathetic bunch. I'm sure no one will be a problem," Spurlock lied.

"Hmph," the sheriff grunted. "Just what made you think it would be ok to try and run shit. You think you're the big dog now son? You think you can sit in the big chair?"

"No sir. No. I don't know. I guess I thought I wanted to see if I can do it. To prove myself."

"Heh, you're something else, kid. You know the rules."

Spurlock tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry.

"Yes, sir."

The penalty for breaking any of the rules of prisoner protocol was death. No trial, lawyers, or proving yourself innocent. It was all up to the sheriff. He once executed a town resident for trying to cheat during an auction. Blew her brains out right in the middle of the sheriff’s office. Spurlock feared he was about to get his brains vacated from his body.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't just put you down right here, right now."

"Because…I'm your son?"

"Ha!" The sheriff said as he turned and walked away. "How much longer you think that excuse will save you?"

"It's not an excuse; it's true."

"I know it's true. Doesn't make you special. Your mama was just one of many women I blew my load into. She was just the one clever enough to hide you from me. Even as a baby, I would’ve stepped on your head like it was a cockroach. I fuckin' hate those things. Since no one else around here wanted you after she died, I took you in. Didn't have to. I could have just left you out in the heat to starve to death. Hell, I could have buried you with her. Not like anyone would know or care."

‘So why did you take me in?" Spurlock asked.

"Looking back, the hell if I remember. Either way you're still here, for now. Maybe I'll kill you later. For now, keep an eye out while I go check on things and see how bad the damage is."

Chapter 12

Nicole struggled against the ropes, but her hands and feet had fallen asleep. They had tied her extremely tightly before the ritual. The mob had since dispersed and gone back to their tiny cabins, leaving her tied up alone in the dark woods. As she struggled, she heard something rustling through the trees. At first she thought she had imagined it, but after a minute she heard the distinct sound of a stick breaking.

"Hello?" she called out. "Is someone there? I need some help. Can you help me?"

There was no reply and the rustling stopped. She wasn't sure if she should be afraid or excited that there was someone else out there. Maybe it was someone who could help, or maybe it was another nutjob from this town ready to dish out more torment.

The noise started up again, this time much louder. Sticks and branches breaking as to suggest something were definitely making its way to her. One thought came to mind which terrified her. What if it was a mountain lion or coyote? Shit. It sounded too big, though. Just past the clearing she saw it. A large silhouette standing in the trees just past the pit. It made its way toward her. It was carrying something in its left hand.

The moonlight hit him once he made the clearing. The figure was a large man; huge in fact. At first she thought he had a mask on, but as he got closer, it was clear it was no mask. His face was misshapen, cracked and distended in places. One eye sat higher than the other, and his nose was bent to one side in an odd hook shape. In his hand, she saw the moonlight glint off the end of it. The huge thing was a chainsaw.

She suppressed a scream as the man was now standing just inches from her, looking down as if she were a fly caught in a sticky trap.

"Please?" she whispered. "Pleased don't hurt me."

He took a step back and whipped out a large hunting knife. She gasped as tears started down her face. With one motion, he sliced the ropes from her body without cutting her. Now free, the severed ropes fell to the ground. She scooted away from the tree, rubbing her wrists and arms as the feeling came back.

"Thank you," she said. Maybe he was friendly after all.

The man grunted as he put the knife into its sheath, held up the saw and nudged her with it. She took a few steps back and looked at him confused.

"What?" she asked.

He grunted and nudged her again, but she still couldn't figure out what he wanted.

"I don't understand."

He grunted louder this time as he held the chainsaw over his head and started it. The engine filled the air with its demonic sounding motor as the exhaust shot out in the moonlight. This time, she got the message as she turned and ran. The crazy fucker wanted to chase her. Cutting her up while tied to a tree would be too easy.

She ran over some bushes, almost tripping, but kept her balance as the saw grew louder behind her. She stumbled through the woods and over some rocks when she saw a cabin just ahead. This wasn't one of the cult members she had just seen. Those were all clustered together. This one stood on its own. There was a light on in one of the windows. It was probably a crazy town member, but she had no choice.

Nicole ran to the door and began pounding.

"Help me! Please! Help!" she screamed while pounding.

A moment later, the door swung open, and an old man was standing there.

"What in the hell is this banging about?" he asked.

"Please! Help me! This guy with a chainsaw is chasing me! Help me please!"

"Oh hell, come on in," he said and closed the door behind her. He walked her into a small kitchen and sat her down and looked out the window for a second.

"I'm Roger by the way. You must be one of the visiting folks."

"I'd hardly call it visiting," she said, still trembling. "Do you have a gun or something? That maniac will be here any minute."

"Yeah. I'm not worried."

Fuck. He was one of them. He was going to hand her over to that guy; she knew it. Looking around the kitchen, she looked for a knife or anything she could use but there was nothing handy.

"Come with me. I know where you'll be safe."

"Where?"

"Come on," he signaled for her to go into the back of the cabin He bent down and pulled a small door open from the floorboard revealing a small compartment. "In there. You'll fit just fine. If he comes by here, I can get rid of him."

"He'll kill you!"

"Nah. Samson knows better than to hurt me," he said as he closed the door. She heard footsteps heading away as she waited. Wait. Samson? He knew that fuckers name? She was fucked for sure. She wanted to scream, but there was no point. She'd give away her location, and it wouldn't help anyway. Looking up she tried to push the door open, but she was stuck there hunched over in the tiny compartment. The walls of the compartment were concrete, which was strange since the rest of the cabin was wood. She hadn't noticed concrete on anything since she'd been here. There were more footsteps then the sound of men talking. At least Roger was talking to someone. After several minutes, it got quiet and for almost an hour, she heard no movement at all.

Finally the door above swung open. She went to stand, but Roger was there and pushed her back down.

"Not so fast. I got rid of him all right. But I can't let the sheriff or anyone know I interfered. So, at best I saved you some horrible suffering."

"Thank you," she said.

"Which is why I'm sorry about this part."

"What part?" she asked as he slid a huge bucket over the opening and began pouring a thick sludge on top of her. It was concrete.

"What the hell are you doing?" she tried to stand again, but he shoved her head back down. With her knees up against her, she couldn't get any leverage to push against him.

"I'm really sorry. I've saved many outsiders from Samson's saw. But no way I can get you out of this town. Sheriff can't know I helped, so this is the only way.

"Don't do this! I'll suffocate!"

"It will only take a minute. It helps to hold your breath; you'll pass out in no time. No pain." Once that bucket was empty, he slid another over and began pouring it into the compartment. It was almost up to her neck now as the lower concrete began to harden, squeezing against her chest. He finished the second bucket as her head was now the only thing left exposed.

"Please! Don't do this! You don't have to do this. I'll never tell anyone. Just help me out of this town. You'll never hear from me again."

"I'm afraid it's not that simple," he said. "Goodbye, my dear."

He poured in the rest of the concrete. It covered her face as it filled her nostrils and oozed into her mouth as she tried to pinch it closed. There was no way for her to breathe. She wanted to, but her face was now totally covered, and her lungs were being squeezed. She tried to shake, tremble or fight her way out, but it was no use as the concrete hardened in her nose and mouth. Roger was right about one thing, it only took a minute or so for her to pass out, and then Nicole was no more.

Chapter 13

"Not bad," Echo said as she walked over to Deacon and ran her hand along his chest. His cock visibly twitched at her touch. "You're kind of a natural at this."

"Hey, thanks. I never took it that far before. But that was fuckin' incredible."

"I know, right?"

"So do I get Carla next?"

"Not yet. We'll save her for a bit. I'm liking your girlfriend over there," Echo said.

"Hey, hold on a second," Chester chimed in. "Why you talking to him like he's one of us. You hot for him or something? You want to fuck him?"

If Deacon didn't know better, he'd think Echo's brother sounded jealous.

"Oh lighten up Chester, it's been ages since I had a guy who wasn't a sniveling bitch up in here. A girl deserves to have some fun."

Chester rolled his eyes and started to say something, but stopped.

"You got something to say?" she asked.

"No."

"You sure? I see you rolling your eyes at me."

"No. Nothing," he said.

"All right then. I got something special for your girl here."

Wendy looked around as tears ran down her face.

"Baby? You going to let them hurt me?" she said to Deacon, now trying to sweet talk him since their tormentors seem to have taken a liking to him. Carla wanted to tell her to shut up, but that would be no use.

"Hey, you're the ones that brought us here. I'm just enjoying the ride," he said.

Carla was sickened by what he'd done to Colleen. She'd been unable to watch most of it, but part of her felt like she needed to see. Like she needed to suffer somehow with her. Colleen had looked over at her a few times and Carla couldn't bring herself to look away. It was the last human connection Colleen had felt, and Carla felt guilty that she was unable to help her. Even though she didn't know the woman and was chained to the wall. Guilt still ate at her. She'd never imagined it was possible for someone to be brutalized in such a fashion. This was what was in store for her. She could see it on Deacon's face; he was looking her up and down like an all you can eat buffet.

Echo was in the corner going through a large duffel bag. Ollie was helping her dig something out of the bag. She removed her robe, revealing her naked and tattooed body. They pulled out some kind of tank with straps and some other harness contraption. Carla couldn't see as they were strapping everything onto Echo's body. Once Echo turned around it was suddenly clear what it was.

The harness contained a long, metallic strap-on. It had a hose coming from it that ran to the tank. She walked over to Wendy as Ollie began undoing her shackles.

"This is my new toy, you get to be the first to try it out," Echo said as she thrust her hips forward. As she did so, a plume of flame came shooting out of the dildo. Wendy screamed as she saw it. Carla closed her eyes and began to pray even though she'd never prayed a day in her life. If there were anyone up there, now would be the time for him to show himself. But it would appear that any God had left this place a long, long time ago.

Wendy was kicking and screaming as Ollie dragged her away from the wall. Echo kept playing with her new toy by intermittently thrusting her hips, causing the flame to shoot out. Carla could feel the heat from the Dil-torch and didn't even want to imagine what she had in store for Wendy. Olly held Wendy's hands over her head as Wendy kicked at Echo, who grabbed her legs and was prying them apart. She began to lean in when the door opened in back.

"Holy hell, looks like I came at the right time," A huge man said from the back of the room. It was the sheriff. Echo jumped to her feet and walked over to him, oblivious to her own nakedness and the bobbing dildo of death wrapped around her waist. She smiled as she approached the large man.

He stood there with his sunglasses on and a straight face looking her up and down.

"Well this is new," he said pointing at her strap-on.

"Chester helped me build it. Thought it would look cool on film," she said.

"I can imagine." He looked up at Deacon standing over Colleen's bloody corpse.

"What's going on here? Isn't he one of the prisoners?"

"Yeah. We're trying some new things out on film."

"You know the rules. They're not supposed to be unsecured, and definitely not helping out with other outsiders. Have you totally lost your mind?"

"Oh come on now. Look at him. He's enjoying himself. He's not gonna do anything dumb. And if we does, nowhere he can go. Hell, I thought I heard Samson running around out there earlier. Sounded like his chainsaw."

"Yeah, he's been about tonight. I'm just checking on things since Spurlock decided to have an auction on his own. I don't know what I'm going to do with that boy. Little fucker can't even follow simple instructions."

"Don't be too hard on him," Echo said as she ran her finger along his shirt. "I pressured him into it. And don't you worry about my boy Deacon back there. He's joining in on the fun with us." She leaned in to whisper in the sheriff’s ear. "Plus, I got something real special for him lined up."

"You better keep this under control. I'll give you guys more leeway out here since you all generate so much cash for the town. But if this shit gets fucked up, there will be hell to pay."

"I love it when you talk so tough," Echo teased. The sheriff nodded and walked out. Echo turned and strolled over to Wendy.

"All right. Now where were we?"

Chapter 14

Spurlock sat in his car, watching the dark road for no apparent reason. His father's scolding had left him rattled. The man hadn't lost his cool, but that was his way. He never appeared angry, or aggressive. He was always calm and at ease right until the moment he was slitting your throat. Spurlock had seen it first-hand many times. It had happened with his older brother. Spurlock was only nine years old when it happened.

His brother Donald was only seventeen and never could get used to their father's ways. One day, he decided to run away from Psychoville and live on the outside. Unfortunately, he'd never gotten far. The sheriff found him about a mile outside of town and brought him back. He called an emergency town meeting and stood there giving a speech with his arm around Donald. The whole speech he talked about how much he loved the town and what his son meant to them.

"When I first founded this town, I could never have imagined the glorious place it would grow into," the sheriff told the crowd. "For years we have lived here in our own way, untouched by the outside world! There is one reason and one reason alone the outside world has not come here. It is because we have remained hidden to them. It is because the rest of you have trusted me as your town's founding father and have allowed me to do what needs to be done." There was a slight murmur among the crowd as he spoke.

"This is my oldest son Donald. While I have always been proud of my boy, today he made a terrible mistake." Everyone collectively held their breath through his dramatic pause. "He tried to run away, to visit the outside. We know what the rules are. We have the law! No one, but no one, is above the law!"

Donald had been looking down, his head in shame through the speech. He looked up at the mention of the law with a single tear in his eye. No doubt he was expecting some lashes with the belt at best.

"Not even my own son is above the law!" The sheriff said, as he took out his knife, grabbed Donald by the forehead and slit his throat. Donald's eyes went wide as he coughed and gurgled, falling to the ground. He lay on the ground choking on his own blood for a few seconds before the moving ceased. The crowd gasped and even cried out at the display. For a group who had committed some of the most atrocious acts anyone could imagine, the sight of one of their own getting his throat cut had a profound impact. Maybe they thought it could be any one of them.

Spurlock had been in the crowd that day. Since then he'd never once considered crossing his father. Even holding his own auction wasn't crossing him in Spurlock's mind. He honestly thought he was being helpful. So far, his father hadn't done anything. He wondered how much time he had before his own throat was slit. Or maybe it was time for a change in leadership in town.

For years, he’d worked in his father's shadow. He’d learned everything he could from the man. For the same number of years, he’d lived in constant fear of the same man. Worrying every single day that the slightest misstep would lead to his death. He never turned his back on his father just out of his own paranoia.

Now, maybe it was time for change. The people in town would respect him if he took out the sheriff on his own. It shouldn't matter that he was so much smaller. Size didn't measure the toughness of a man. Spurlock had held his own in many scrapes with outsiders in the past. His skills with his baton were more than most men could handle. One outsider had him dead to rights at gunpoint, but Spurlock used his baton to disarm the man. Not only did he disarm the guy, but broke both the man's arms and his jaw.

It would be time to act soon, before the sheriff acted against him first. The thought was interrupted by a set of headlights approaching. Spurlock sat back and waited for the car to go by. He pulled in behind it and immediately activated his overhead lights. The car pulled over as Spurlock pulled in behind. As he approached the car, the driver's door swung open and gunshots rang out as the bright muzzle flash light up the night.

Spurlock dove to the ground as the man fired more shots before taking off running. Spurlock returned fire as the man ran into the woods. He pursued the man, firing a few more shots blindly. The flashes had affected his night vision, making it hard to see some of the trees and rocks in his path. A bullet whizzed by his head as another shot rang out.

Spurlock ducked behind a tree as he yelled out.

"Just give up now! Give up and you'll be treated fairly! Keep running and shooting and I can't make no promises!"

"Fuck you pig!" the man replied. "I'm not going back to jail!"

Great, some asshole with warrants on the outside. As if Spurlock gave a shit about real crime. Spurlock turned from behind the tree and began working his way toward the sound, with his gun at the ready. He took a few steps when the sound of a chainsaw filled the air. It was coming from the same direction the shots had come from. Samson. Over the sound of the chainsaw was a man screaming. Spurlock saw the man running in his direction. The guy stopped just a few feet away from Spurlock.

"Don't shoot!" the man screamed. "I give up! I surrender! There's a fucking crazy guy with a chainsaw back there!"

"Really? Where?" Spurlock said, playing dumb.

The saw revved again from the darkness.

"There! You hear it? I tried to shoot, but I'm out of bullets. Just arrest me or take me in or whatever. Just shoot that motherfucker!"

Spurlock grabbed the man by the shirt and pushed him up against the tree. He pushed his gun to the base of the man's skull and leaned forward, whispering.

"I could blow your fucking head off right now," he said. The man tensed up as he did so. "But I got something better in store for you."

"What the fuck are you doing? You have to take me in. I know my rights!"

"You don't know shit, buttercup."

Footsteps sounded nearby, getting louder.

"Fuck man! He's coming! That dude with the chainsaw is coming!"

"I know," Spurlock looked calmly to his left. "You want this one Samson?"

Samson emerged from the darkness, the saw in his right hand. He grunted and nodded as Spurlock took a step back from the man. He reached in and took the man's wallet out of his pocket, and looked at his ID using his flashlight.

"Frank Ferris, huh? Well, Mr. Ferris. Tonight is not your night."

"What the fuck is this? What's going on?"

"Samson here is bored. So you're gonna keep him company tonight."

"What? What the fuck…" before he could finish, Samson struck him over the head with the side of the chainsaw, knocking him to the ground. He bent down and threw Ferris over his shoulder and nodded to Spurlock.

"Have fun, Samson. Just one thing, though."

Samson stopped and cocked his head to the side.

"You owe me a favor later on."

Samson gave a thumbs up and disappeared into the darkness.

Chapter 15

Wendy screamed as Ollie and Chester strapped her over the weird contraption. They brought it in after the sheriff had left. It looked like a sawhorse, but had handlebars on the front legs and a set of leg shackles on the back part. Once she was strapped down on the thing, her ass was stuck up in the air as her head and arms were secured forward, as if she were riding a ten-speed.

There was a step stool behind the device that Echo had climbed onto. She stood there wiggling her hips around causing the large metal dildo to twirl around in a circle, smacking Wendy on the ass as it came down. Wendy cried and pleaded as Carla looked on. Deacon was sound asleep in the corner, exhausted from his earlier activities.

"You ready girl?" Echo called out. "I'm about to rock your world!"

She thrust the steel dildo into Wendy from behind. Wendy's eyes almost bugged out of her head as the cold steel wore the inside of her vagina raw. Echo thrust and thrust away shoving it in as deep as it would go. After a few tries, it began going in easier.

"Oh look at this, I think she's getting' wet!" Echo looked down and saw red all over the dildo. "Or not. Guess I broke her pussy. She's all bloody!"

Wendy screamed and cried as she struggled helplessly against Echo's thrusts.

"No point in fighting. You can't move. May as well sit back and enjoy it."

After a few more thrusts, Echo looked up into the camera.

"All right boys, time for some real fun!" She messed with something on the side of her harness and did a slight thrust inside of Wendy. Wendy felt the pain instantly. The heat only lasted for a second but enough to hurt like nothing she'd ever felt before. She shrieked as Echo laughed and did another thrust. She was only activating the flame for a second at a time, but each time it seared her insides, sending pain throughout her body, so intense, she could feel it in the back of her eyeballs.

Echo's thrusts increased along with the size and intensity of the flame inside of Wendy. Her shrieks grew louder and more guttural until she no longer sounded human. Her face contorted into various shapes and forms as Echo thrust and thrust, unleashing an internal fiery hell inside of Wendy's vagina with each thrust.

The smell of burnt flesh and tissue filled the room as Carla began gagging, and eventually threw up all over the floor. Tears ran down Wendy's face as Echo continued to burn her alive from the inside. During one of her screams, smoke came out of her mouth as her throat began to go dry and the scream turned into little more than the sounds of air. Echo climbed off the stool and walked around to the front of the device, carrying the stool with her. Smoke was coming from Wendy's vagina, drifting into the air.

Wendy's head hung down, as she lay on the device whimpering and sobbing. Echo grabbed a handful of her hair and thrust her steel cock into Wendy's mouth. Wendy's eyes went wide one last time as Echo activated the flame. The flame shot through Wendy's head as Echo held the flaming dildo in place. Flesh burned away from Wendy's face as her eyeballs cracked and bubbled out of her head that was soon nothing but a burnt skull. Echo smiled and jumped down off the stool.

"Holy shit that was amazing! Who wants to go again?

Chapter 16

Frank Ferris was hanging upside down in a tiny cabin lit with nothing but a single lamp. Samson had not been around for a while. The large man had bound his hands and feet and hung him upside down on the meat hook before going back out. Where'd he go? Frank had no idea. Perhaps to find more people to hang in his cabin? How many random folks were out in these woods? He wished he hadn't even pulled over. Frank wasn't the most brilliant man around, but he was smart enough to realize that man who stopped him wasn't a real cop.

Frank had been heading to Del Rio from Dallas. He had a friend at the border he was supposed to meet with about a new job opportunity. He didn't know much about it. His friend hadn't given many details. There was a good chance it had something to do with one of the cartels. Not that it mattered to Frank. A job was a job, and cash was cash. However, that opportunity was likely lost in light of his current situation.

Moments later the door burst open and in walked Samson. He was only carrying his chainsaw that he sat on the work table. He bent down and looked into Frank's face. Whoever Samson was, he sure was hideous. There was little more than a couple holes where his nose should have been. He only had a few teeth and his forehead seemed to go on forever. His hair hung out in long, but random strands and one of his eyes was huge, almost the size of the baseball. The other eye was normal sized and sat much lower on his face.

"What? What do you want from me? You going to cut me up and eat me? Do you talk? Fuck, man."

Samson just looked at him as if he were a fly Samson were about to pull the wings off. He didn't bother struggling or fighting as it would have been a waste of energy he may need later.

"Nooose." Samson said, pointing at Frank's nose.

"Yeah. That's my nose. You don't seem to have one."

Samson pulled out a large knife and pressed it against the bridge of Frank's nose.

"Hey! What the fuck? What are you…Ow! Shit that hurts!" he screamed as Samson sliced through the top of his nose, sawing back and forth through cartilage until Frank's nose fell from his face. Frank screamed as the pain shot through his whole body, the hole where his nose had once been throbbed as blood ran down the new holes, causing him to gag, but not enough to choke.

Samson picked the nose up and walked over to his bench. Frank couldn't see what the man was doing with his back turned, but he knew the instant Samson turned around. He'd attached some kind of strap to the edges of Frank's nose and wrapped it around his head. He jumped up and down while laughing and bent down into Frank's face again.

"Noooose! See? Nose!" he pointed.

"Yes! I see you took my fucking nose you freak! Can I go now? What the fuck?" The pain was subsiding some, but the dull throbbing continued as Frank coughed and spat up blood into Samson's face who didn't seem the least bit bothered by it.

Samson stood and walked around the cabin feeling his new nose. He walked over to Frank and kicked him in the head. The kick stung as his eyes watered while his body swung back and forth like a pendulum. Each time he swung back toward Samson, the beast man would kick him again and laugh. Each time he grew more and more dazed. After the fourth kick, his eye swelled shut. Finally, Samson grew bored and walked away, leaving Frank swaying back and forth with blood running out of his nose and his eye socket throbbing.

Samson came back into the cabin holding a blowtorch. Frank had no idea what Samson had planned but no doubt it was about to suck for him. Samson stood over him and used the knife to cut Frank's jeans off. Once they were off, he cut off his underwear, leaving his dick, balls and bare ass exposed. Samson poked Frank's dick with the blow torch and laughed to himself as it flopped around. Frank cringed at the humiliation.

Samson turned on the torch, just burning the tip of Frank's cock. Frank screamed at the burst of heat on his junk.

"What the fuck is wrong with you! That fucking hurts!" he screamed, but Samson was lost in his own world. Samson would turn the torch on and off, burning parts of Frank's cock, ass, and legs. Frank wiggled and screamed, but nothing could relieve the pain or rescue him from what Samson was about to do.

Samson fired it up full blast this time and held it over Frank's testicles. Frank shrieked as pain shot through his entire body. He'd been kicked in the balls before, but that had never compared to the pain he felt now.

"Stop! Please! My fucking God! Fuck!" Frank screamed as Samson waved the torch back and forth as the flesh and tissue that was once Frank's scrotum and testicles turned to blackened ash and fell away. He moved up to Frank's penis. Waving the torch over it as Frank screamed. His penis turned black like a burned hot dog before shriveling up into nothing.

Samson turned the torch off and admired the blackened hole in Frank's crotch where his penis and testicles once were. Frank dangled there moaning as his screams had turned to sobs. Samson felt up Frank's ass cheeks, squeezing them and poking one with the torch before turning it on. Using his free hand to pull one of the cheeks open, he inserted the flame into Frank's asshole as Frank went back to screaming, this time even more shrill than before. Samson moved it up and down as the flame cooked the inside of Frank's colon.

Samson stood back laughing hysterically as Frank hung there, barely conscious.

"Please?" he whimpered. "Please no more. I can't take anymore."

Samson ignored him as he grabbed a chain hanging from the ceiling and placed the attached shackle around Frank's ankle. He did the same with the other chain on the other ankle and then cut him free from the meat hook. Frank was now dangling upside down with each leg suspended from an individual chain.

"What's going on? What are you going to do?"

Samson walked to the wall, and Frank couldn't see as Samson began turning a large crank that pulled the two chains apart a few inches at a time.

"Hey! What's happening? What's going on?"

Samson kept cranking as the chains spread further and further apart, pulling Frank's legs apart as well. Soon they were stretched out beyond his comfort level.

"No! Please! No! Why are you doing this? Why?" Frank said, crying. Samson kept cranking as Frank realized not only that he about to die, but he was about to die in a most horrible fashion. Death itself was welcome after what he had just experienced. After all that, it was about to get worse.

His legs were now apart completely horizontally as Samson continued cranking. Frank groaned as ligaments and muscles in his thighs began to rip and tear. Soon his bones were popping as they came out of their sockets. Skin was ripping and tearing as Frank screamed and shrieked, helpless as he was being ripped apart.  Frank closed his eyes and tried not to focus on the pain that was tearing and ripping in a slow and gradual manner.

He felt his body drop down as both legs gave a final pop. He looked up to see both legs were inches out of their sockets and just holding on by some strands of flesh. Frank took several deep breaths, trying not to focus on the fact he no longer had a dick, balls or legs. And then Samson began cranking again.

Chapter 17

Deputy Spurlock stood outside Samson's cabin listening to the screams. Sounded like Samson was having a lot more fun than usual with this one. It had been awhile since he'd been allowed to have his very own outsider. Usually, he just helped round up other's captures if they got away. Or like tonight, he helped Spurlock corral a fresh one.

Spurlock hoped doing so would win him Samson's loyalty. He'd always gotten along with the strange guy. Many of the town people were afraid of Samson, including the sheriff though he'd never admit it. Samson's dad was a former town member named Buck Reynolds. He'd knocked up one of his captives and kept her in his cabin until Samson was born. No one was sure why Samson came out the way he did other than a combination of horrible genes on his dad's side combined with the combination of drugs and moonshine he'd forced on her to keep her quiet.

Samson's mom had died giving birth, which was probably just as well for her. She never got to see the thing she gave birth to. Buck kept the boy for some reason, though as he got older, he abused the kid every chance he got. Samson was a couple years younger than Spurlock. Spurlock had shown Samson a hiding place in the woods he could run to when Buck was in one of his drunken rages. The beatings went on and on, which only increased Samson's deformity.

Broken cheekbones not healing properly, teeth being knocked out. At least Samson had been born without a nose, or his dad would have broken it God knows how many times. As he’d gotten older, though, Samson had grown much larger than average for his age. This hadn’t stopped Buck. He'd hit Samson with his fists, and as he got older, he'd used anything from a baseball bat to the butt of a rifle. That is, until Samson found his dad's chainsaw in their old shed.

Samson had been out hunting and had killed a deer. His dad was in the cabin, passed out drunk, so Samson dragged the deer to the back of the cabin. There he'd seen the old shed Buck had told him to stay out of. Samson had seen the shed many times but never bothered going in there. Being sixteen and more than capable of taking care of himself, he decided to go into the shed anyway.

There was nothing in the shed of note besides boxes of tools and some tables. Samson began skinning the deer and was almost finished when Buck found him.

"Boy, I sure knew you was dumb. But I never thought you had the balls to openly defy me." Buck was standing in the doorway holding an ax handle. "I guess a retard like you never learns; not your fault I guess. You can't help it you're stupid."

"No! No! No!" Samson grunted as he grabbed a handful of deer meat and held it out to his father. Buck laughed and swatted it out of his hand with the ax handle. Samson pulled his hand away and held it up against his chest.

"I don't give a shit about your fuckin' animal meat boy! You think that impresses me! I've killed fuckin' mountain lions out here!" He reared back and struck Samson again with the handle. The teenager put his hand up to shield himself from the blows, but his dad was incredibly strong. After several cracks, Samson fell to the ground as his dad kept whaling away. The rage in Buck's eyes was far more intense than anything Samson had seen before.

Samson turned his head away, and pulled his legs up into a fetal position when he saw it. The chainsaw was sitting on the floor beneath the table. His dad used it during the colder months to cut firewood. Samson had wondered where he'd gotten it from, but it seems he kept it in the shed. He reached out and grabbed the saw as his dad kept screaming and beating him with the ax handle.

Samson pulled himself to his knees and pulled the cord on the saw. It started with a roar, filling the shed with its sound as exhaust streamed from the motor. Buck took a step back as Samson stood facing him. Buck wasn't about to let a sixteen-year-old with a chainsaw back him down. He reared back for another swing with the ax handle, but this time Samson swung the saw the same direction, cutting the ax handle in half mid-air.

It finally registered to Buck that he was in some serious trouble. Samson held the saw above his head and screamed as Buck stumbled backward. Samson swung the saw at his dad, cutting him from the left shoulder to halfway down his torso. Buck fell out of the shed and made it to his feet and ran. He ran almost twenty yards when he ran into the sheriff, who was just coming to see what the commotion was.

He was shocked to find Buck covered in blood with his arm dangling at his waist and gushing blood from his chest.

"That boy has lost it!" Buck screamed. "He's gone fuckin' crazy!"

Before the sheriff could reply, Samson appeared behind him and sawed his father in half at the waist. Buck let out one final scream as his torso slid one way and his legs slid the other collapsing to the ground. His insides spilled out onto the leaves and rocks as his eyes stared up lifelessly at the sky.

The sheriff looked up at Samson. Sheriff now had blood all over the front of his shirt and pants. He was actually in shock over what he'd just seen. This was the first sign of aggression Samson had ever shown of any sort. In some ways, the sheriff was proud of the boy for finally standing up for himself. Yet, at the same time, he was horrified at how deadly he'd become so quickly.

Samson looked at the sheriff, nodded and headed back to his cabin. Ever since that day, Samson had been his own man. No one ever messed with him, and he was allowed occasional outsiders to take out his aggressions on. Everyone figured after sixteen years of abuse the boy had finally had enough. Now this was his way.

The screaming finally stopped inside the cabin as Spurlock smiled. Samson had his way all right. Spurlock had occasionally watched how brutal and effective Samson was as a killer. He'd perfected his ways indeed. Spurlock hoped Samson would use those ways in his favor. If anyone knew how to kill a father, it was Samson. Spurlock walked up to the cabin and tapped on the door.

Chapter 18

Carla lay against the wall pretending to be unconscious. She'd seen everything that was in store for her and wanted no part of it. They always unshackled the next person before filming their destruction. She planned to make her move then. She wasn't entirely sure what that move would be, but she sure as hell wasn't just going to lie down and let Echo fuck her with that blow torch dildo or let Deacon lay a hand on her.

She could hear them talking as one of the brothers dragged Wendy's remains out of the cabin.

"All right, I get her right?  You promised," Deacon said.

"I didn't promise you shit. And you may be forgetting, you're not one of us. You're one of them. So calm your dick unless you want to go out like your girlfriend," Echo warned.

"That little whore probably loved every second."

"I don't give a fuck if she liked it. That's not the point. It's snuff, dumbass."

"You're so feisty."

It was hard for Carla not to cringe. Deacon was actually turned on by a girl who didn't cower to him. Though Echo was no normal girl. She was a complete psychopath, and a sadistic one at that. Footsteps approached as she felt hands on her wrist.

"You ready for this one?" Ollie called out. He was the one holding onto her wrist.

"Just drag her over here," Echo said. "I'll wake her ass up; me and fuck boy here are going to do a threesome with her. This will be the finale of our film. We are going to make some serious bank on this one."

"I hope so," Ollie said. "We got some really good shit with those last two. This is some epic shit." Ollie undid one shackle on her wrist, and then the second. Once her second hand was free, she sat up, dug her claws into Ollie's eyes and raked her nails across his face as much as she could. Most of her nails had broken off during her ordeal, but she could still do some damage. Ollie screamed as her fingers thrust into his eyes, blood oozed from his cheeks as she scraped before she jumped to her feet and ran out the door.

Deacon stood and pointed as she ran out. His dick was pointing in the same direction as his finger.

"Hey! She's getting away!" he yelled.

"No shit, dumbass!" Echo yelled as Ollie rolled around on the ground, writhing in pain. Chester dropped the camera he was changing film on and ran after her. Echo quickly removed her strap on blowtorch rig and pulled her clothes on before giving chase. Deacon stood there looking confused.

Once Carla was outside, she ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction. The woods were dark, and she was still naked. Stick and rocks dug into her feet, but she ignored the pain. If she were going to die, it would be fighting in these woods, not being fucked in some cabin. She ran through some bushes and toward a clearing. At the clearing, she stopped and looked around. Behind her, she could hear Echo and a man yelling at each other. She had a good lead on them, but they knew these woods. She didn't. Looking around there was a cabin just to her right about fifty yards away.

She headed for the cabin and made it, but didn't go for the door. She ducked beneath the window and looked inside. Those weird looking women from the auction earlier were inside. There was no sign of Ben, so no telling what they'd done with him. They were sitting around laughing at something. Behind her, she could hear Echo and Chester's voices getting louder. She walked around to the back door of the cabin and tapped lightly on the door.

It cracked open as one of the younger girls stepped out. This one was missing half of the hair on the side of her head. The hair she did have was wiry and sticking out in every direction. She stuck her head out looking around as Carla grabbed her by the hair and whipped her outside. Before the girl could scream, Carla smashed her face into a large rock just to the left of the steps. She reared the girl's head back and brought it down again and again until the girl was no longer moving.

She let the girl's body fall to the ground, and she removed the dirty white gown she'd been wearing. It wasn't ideal, but at least she wouldn't be totally naked. She slipped it on and dragged the girl's body behind the rock and to the side of the cabin. The door opened again as another girl came out. This one was a few years older.

"Brie? Where are you? What was out here? Brie?" she asked. This one was carrying an ax. Apparently they only had crude weapons out here. Carla hid around the corner as the woman came down the stairs holding the ax in front of her. "Are you there? Is someone there?"

Just before she reached the end of the cabin, Carla launched herself from her hiding spot, tackling the woman and knocking the ax from her hand. They rolled around on the ground hitting and pulling each other's hair before Carla got her hand on the ax. She brought it up sideways, hitting the woman in the side of the head with it, knocking he back. Carla freed herself from the woman's grasp and stood. The woman rose and looked up. Carla saw the woman's eyes widen in the moonlight as she brought the ax down, splitting her head in two.

She heard more footsteps from the cabin as well as Echo screaming at someone. Carla turned and ran, holding the ax. At least in one stop she managed some clothing and a weapon. She ran behind the cabin and through some trees where the light from the cabin faded. If nothing else, hopefully, she could take out as many of these freaks as possible before they got to her. She moved further into the woods where it became pitch black. She took comfort knowing if she couldn't see them, they couldn't see her either. Once she was further in, she found a large tree and knelt behind it. She was armed now and in a good hiding spot. Hopefully, she could stay hidden until morning, or let them come to her.

Chapter 19

The sheriff sat in his cabin when he heard the screaming. It sounded like Echo. It wasn't a scared scream though Echo didn't have a scared scream. She was pissed. Furious was more like it. He stood and walked outside and listened. She screamed again and this time there was a bunch of other girls screaming. The Hyatt girls. Something was going on at their place.

He put on his hat and ran toward their cabin. They were a ways away, but it didn't take him too long to reach them. When he got there, Echo was screaming at Chester, who was standing over two dead Hyatt girls, both of whom were missing their faces.

"What in the hell happened?" The sheriff asked, looking at Echo. She looked away as he glared at her. "Well?"

"One of the girls got away," she said.

"What?"

"The girl, Carla or whatever. She was the last one left. She got out. She played like she was knocked out and when Ollie unchained her she flipped out and ran off. She came by here and killed these two."

"What the fuck did I tell you? I told you to keep them under fucking control."

"I know."

"You call this under control?"

"No," she was looking down.

"Do you call running through the town with an ax hacking our people up under control?"

"No, all right? I get it. I fucked up."

"You're goddamn right you did."

"Look, I got this ok. I'll find her," she put her hand on his chest and looked up at him. He grabbed her wrist and squeezed.

"I think you've done enough. Where is that guy at? Please tell me he's still chained up."

"He's in the studio with Ollie."

"Ollie who just got fucked up by some girl."

"Hey! What's going on?" Deacon's voice called out from behind Echo. They looked back to see him running up. He was still naked and wielding a boner. He was wearing Ollie's boots, however.

"What the fuck?" the sheriff said.

"Where is Ollie?" Echo asked.

"His eyes are messed up. He gave me his shoes and told me to come and help."

"God dammit Ollie," she said.

The sheriff shook his head as he looked at Echo.

"Get that dumbass back to the cabin and secured. I'll grab Spurlock, and we'll find your stray."

"I wasn't done with her," Echo protested.

"You are now. Now go."

She turned and walked away as Deacon followed. Chester remained with the sheriff, who nodded at him.

"Find Spurlock, send him this way. Tell him we got a runner," the sheriff ordered. Chester nodded and ran off. The sheriff pulled his gun and headed toward the woods behind the Hyatt cabin. It was the thickest area and the darkest part of town at night. It only made sense she ran back there. He wondered if Samson would find her before he got to her. If so, it would be just as well.

Once into the woods, he stood, listened and smelled. Some thought the idea of smelling fear was a myth; the sheriff knew otherwise. Whenever a person was in their fight or flight response, they gave off a distinct odor. He didn't know what you called it and didn't care. It was just fear, plain and simple. He could smell it now. Just ahead of him and to his left. He pointed the gun into the darkness as he crept forward, careful not to make a single sound.

Moving toward the smell, he knew he was getting close. She had to be nearby but wouldn't get far. He took another step when he heard her grunt. In the darkness, he saw her outline swinging something. He ducked just in time to miss the ax. She brought it down and hit him in the middle of the back with the dull end, knocking him flat on his face. Once he was down she took off running.

He cursed himself for letting her get the drop on him, but at least the damage was minimal. She'd just stunned him. As she ran, he could hear the sound of sticks breaking as he aimed his gun into the darkness and fired several shots. The sounds stopped as he listened. Did he hit her? He'd have to run ahead to see for sure. As he ran, he heard footsteps behind him. Big, loud steps moving quickly. He stopped and ducked behind a tree. Now who the hell could this be coming? Maybe it was Spurlock or Samson. Samson would take bigger steps. Spurlock was too small to make such noise.

He waited as the footsteps got closer. He took out his flashlight and shined it in that direction. He hadn't used the light so far so as not to mess up his night vision. With someone coming up from behind him, he wanted to know who it was. No way was it the girl. Sure enough, it was Samson. He was lumbering toward the sheriff carrying his chainsaw.

"Samson, you seen Spurlock?" he asked. But Samson just shook his head. "I shot at her; I may have hit her. If you can find her, she's yours to do what you want."

Samson grunted as he moved ahead, vanishing into the darkness. He turned off the light and followed behind, but only walking this time. With Samson out here, he was sure she would be found and disposed of in no time. He took a few more steps when Samson's chainsaw sounded a few feet ahead of him.

"All right Samson! You find her?" the Sheriff asked. Instead of a reply he caught the outline of Samson in front of him spinning around just before the saw cut both his legs off. It happened so quickly the Sheriff couldn't even react. He dropped his gun as he fell to the ground. His legs fell several feet in front of him as his stumps gushed blood onto the ground. What the fuck?

"Samson! What are you doing? Why?" The Sheriff yelled as he shined the light up at the large beast man who was now standing over him. The chainsaw rumbled at his side as Samson's blank, deformed face stared back.

"What are you doing? My legs! You cut off my legs!"

Samson lifted the saw over his head, revved the engine and then brought it down.

Chapter 20

Carla watched the huge freak cut up the sheriff with his chainsaw. Luckily for her the sheriff’s bullets just missed her by inches. She dropped to the ground when he began shooting which is what saved her. She had looked back when she heard the chainsaw, thinking for sure the freak was coming for her. Instead, he killed his own Sheriff. She had no idea why and honestly didn't care. She got to her feet and kept running, this time going to her right toward another clearing.

The next cabin looked familiar. As she got closer, she saw the old man standing outside looking around. It was Roger. She approached him, dragging the ax behind her. He saw her coming and smiled.

"Well hello there!" he said. "Looks like you made it out ok."

"You motherfucker. You handed us over to them knowing what they'd do. What they were!"

"Yeah. I'm sorry for that. This town has its ways, and an old fart like me can't stop it. I do what I can. Might save a person here or there, but I can't stop the big machine."

"All of my friends are fucking dead!" She picked up the ax and held it in both hands.

"There now, let's not do anything hasty. Why don't you come inside? I'll fix you some coffee."

"Why? So I can wait around in there till one of them comes back for me? So you can just hand me over again?"

"Not at all," he shook his head. "I can get you out of here for good, actually."

"Oh, can you now?"

"You bet. There is a series of tunnels that runs beneath here. You can only access it from some of the cabins. I can get you in through here. You follow it for a couple miles, and it comes out near the highway. Make it there and you're safe. Come on." He turned and went inside.

Carla was skeptical, but she followed him. She had no idea how to get back to the road from where she was. He may not be totally full of shit. She got inside the dimly lit cabin and looked around.

"I'll put some coffee on for ya."

"Fuck the coffee. Get me the fuck out of here," Carla said. She was done being nice to any of these assholes. There was no talking sense to these people either. They only understood one thing, and she could speak it right back.

"Fine. Right, this way." He walked her to the back of the cabin and knelt down, pulling a door open revealing a dark opening in the floor.

"Right through there," he said. "And you'll be out of here."

Something didn't feel right to Carla. For all she knew he was leading her right into a trap. That or if there were a tunnel it led right back to Echo or that crazy deputy. She looked around the cabin before getting into the hole. The place was rather simple. A couple chairs sitting around along with an easy chair. It was what was next to a chair that caught her eye. There were several pairs of women's shoes.

Some looked like slip on shoes, others were tennis shoes but had yellow or pink in them. Not that they couldn't be a guy's, but it wasn't likely.

"Whose shoes are those?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"The shoes, by your chair. Whose are those?"

"Them are just shoes I found in the woods. I suppose they belonged to outsiders that didn't make it. I figured it was the last thing left of them."

"So you just happened to bring them back here and stack them next to your chair. Like some collection."

"Look young lady. I know you been through a lot. But I'm not liking how you're talking to me."

"What's in that hole? What is waiting for me down there?"

"I told you. Just a tunnel."

"Ok. Then you go first."

"What?"

"If there is some rescue tunnel down there, you get in first. You climb in and show me where it goes."

"Now, haha, I'd love to. But I'm way too old to be climbing into some hole and through a bunch of tunnels."

"If it's a bunch of tunnels then you should have nothing to worry about. I'm not getting in there until you do first."

"Then I guess we'll be standing here all night." His voice was getting shaky as he spoke.

She moved toward him holding up the ax.

"We're not standing anywhere. I want to know what you think you're going to do with me." She got closer as Roger took a few steps back.

"Now, now you look here! I brought you into my home! I protected you!"

"You handed us over to those freaks earlier. How many others did you just hand over to their deaths like that? Did you hand over those people whose shoes you're collecting?"

Before he could reply, she stepped forward and used the ax handle to shove him into the hole. He fell in landing on his bottom, all scrunched into the small space. She leaned over and looked down at him.

"So where's the tunnel?" she called down.

"Hey, please help me!"

"Just get out through your tunnel! Funny, I don't see it!"

"Look, ok. There is no tunnel ok?"

"So you were just going to trap me down there? Fuck you."

She closed the lid as Roger screamed from beneath the floor. Once the lid was closed, his screams were barely muffled sounds coming from beneath. She went over to the big chair and slid it over the door. He'd either suffocate or die of dehydration soon. Either way she was done giving a shit. Fuck this town and everyone who lived here. Once the lid was covered, she went through a box in the corner behind where the chair had been. It was full of clothes. Helped people her ass. This motherfucker had been killing as many as the rest of the town and keeping trophies.

She found a pair of women's jeans that fit her well enough and a tank top, and then some shoes. This would make it much easier to move around. Once she was done, she heard something outside. It sounded like people talking. She turned off the light and moved behind the door. Someone was coming. She would be ready.

Chapter 21

Spurlock came out from behind some trees and watched Samson finish cutting up The Sheriff. He felt no emotion whatsoever seeing his father cut to shreds by the large man wielding the chainsaw. It wasn't hard for Spurlock to convince Samson to do it either. Samson wasn't afraid of anyone. Never had been, not since killing his dad. Despite his looking ugly and inability to talk, the guy wasn't as stupid or slow as everyone thought. He just never had much to say and preferred keeping to himself.

Spurlock promised him more freedom to hunt folks. Under the Sheriff, Samson was only allowed to go after ones who got away. Maybe he'd get an occasional reject, but was never allowed in the auctions or considered a member of the town. Spurlock promised him that would change, and Samson jumped on it.

"Good job, Samson," Spurlock said. "You made it look easy."

Samson let out a grunt as he shut the saw off.

"Did you see the girl?"

Samson shook his head no.

"Ok. See if you can find her. She doesn't know these woods. You do. You find her, she's yours to keep."

Samson nodded as he turned and ran into the darkness. Spurlock knelt down over his dad's remains and shined his flashlight down on the body. His arms and legs had been cut into pieces. His head had been split open causing brains to spill out onto the ground. Spurlock smiled in the darkness.

"Not so tough now are you? You didn't think anyone could or would take you out huh? Shows how much you know. You're not that tough at all. I only wish I could have seen your face those final seconds when you knew you were fucked." Spurlock stood and spat on the body as he walked further into the woods trailing Samson. He reached a clearing where Roger's cabin stood. It was likely she ran in there. Roger would always take in strays pretending to help them, only to kill them by stuffing them into little compartments under his cabin and filling them with water or concrete. He was a strange old man. He'd already fucked the girl over earlier. No doubt she was stupid enough to trust him again.

Samson was just ahead headed toward the cabin. Spurlock hung back when he saw someone approaching from the other side. It was Echo. What the fuck was she doing? And why did she have that Deacon asshole with her? At least he finally put some pants on.

"Echo! What the fuck are you doing?" Spurlock called out.

"I'm gonna get this bitch back and finish our movie. Sheriff told me to find her and finish up with her."

"Yeah? Well, there's been a bit of a change."

"Change? What kind of change? Where is the Sheriff and what is that freak doing here?"

"I'm the Sheriff now."

Echo took a step back and laughed. She was incredibly hot, but her smugness made him want to shove his revolver up her snatch and pull the trigger repeatedly. He wondered if it would go through her head.

"You're the sheriff? Oh my God. That is funny as fuck! Look at me! I'm Sheriff Spurlock! Get the fuck out of here."

Spurlock tried to keep from killing her right then and there. He may have some use for her before the night was through. Instead, he took a deep breath.

"He's dead. Samson sawed him to pieces. He's about fifty yards back that way. Well, most of him is."

Echo stood there looking at him trying to see if he was serious.

"Bullshit. Why would Samson do that?"

"Because I told him to. He was tired of being treated like some animal."

Echo finally stopped laughing.

"You're fucking serious."

"No shit I'm serious. I'm running shit now. Which means playtime is over for you and your new boy toy here." He pointed at Deacon. "The girl is in Roger's cabin. I'm almost sure of it. Provided Roger hasn't killed her yet, I told Samson he could have her." As they looked, Samson was approaching the cabin just as the lights inside went off.

"But our movie!" Echo protested.

"I don't give two flying fucks about your sick ass movies. I might just shut that whole deal down. I don't care how much money it makes. It's the one thing that could expose us to the outside. Last thing we need is cops and FBI crawling around here. But we'll talk about that later."

Samson let out a scream as they looked to see him falling down the cabin steps with blood spraying from his thigh. The girl who was now wearing regular clothes went running behind the cabin carrying an ax. She chopped Samson's leg. No telling how badly he was hurt.

"Son of a bitch, get that bitch!" Spurlock yelled as Echo and Deacon took off after her. Spurlock wasn't the fastest runner so he trotted along behind. She was headed right for Linderman's cabin and his weird crew. Looks like none of them would get to finish her off if those guys got a hold of her. They'd turn her into one of their sacrifices. Spurlock had no idea what the hell they were into other than some Cthulhu creature. Whatever it was, it was fucking weird. As long as they kept it to themselves, he couldn't give a shit.

She ran in between a set of cabins belonging to Linderman and his followers. Spurlock stopped and hung back. They might all be asleep. Though if she started knocking on doors things could get really interesting. That was the fun thing about this job. Sometimes he didn't even have to get his hands dirty. He took out a cigar and lit it. A light came on in one of the cabins as the girl ran through with Echo and Deacon trailing behind. Spurlock took a puff and waited for the fun to begin.

Chapter 22

Carla ran between the cabins, though once she was in the large clearing in front of the cabins, she immediately regretted going this way. There was a large pit, but it smelled of smoke, ash and burnt hair and skin. The thing was some kind of fire pit. There were bones lying around it nearby along with strange pieces of artwork illuminated by small lanterns underneath. The art had funny looking symbols and hideous creatures.

A light in one of the cabins came on as she ducked behind the huge pit. There were chains hanging from a contraption just above the pit. She could only imagine what they did with this thing. Then she remembered the weird man in the robe who won Nicole in the "auction." She pushed the thought back as the realization of what happened to her friend hit her.

A woman came out of the cabin looking around. She walked toward the pit, but Carla worked her way around. Soon Echo and Deacon appeared from the cabins and talked to the woman. She could hear them speaking but couldn't make out what they were saying. The woman walked to another cabin and began ringing a huge bell. The steel ball made a Clang! Clang! Against the bell as lights began turning on in every cabin around the circle. Fuck!

Men and women poured out of the cabins including the tall robed man from earlier. She worked her way around the pit and ran into a large propane tank. That must have been how they kept fires in there going. There were also cans of gasoline stacked around the tank. The crowd was working their way around the mini-camp searching for her. It would be a matter of seconds before they found her as a few headed her way.

She grabbed the gas cans and opened each one, knocking them over to let the gas spill out. She crawled under the propane tank and found a nozzle where she cranked it open as far as it would go. One of the platforms with a painting was just behind the propane tank. She stood on her tiptoes to grab the lantern and smashed it against the rocks on the pit. That was enough to ignite the gasoline with a WHOOSH! She hadn't expected it to catch so quickly. She grabbed the ax and ran toward the nearest cabins as several of them ran toward the fire.

She cleared the cabins and dove behind a large rock as the large propane tank exploded behind her. The night sky lit up with the large plume of fire as screams came from the pit area. People were running out from between the cabins engulfed in flames. Carla bashed her knee on one of the rocks as she dove. As much as she wanted to admire watching these assholes burn, she decided to keep moving. She got to her feet and stumbled further into the woods.

She could hear screaming behind her. It was Echo. Go figure; that cunt wouldn't have been close enough to the explosion. She reached another clearing, but there were no cabins here. Doubling back to her right she headed through more woods for several more minutes when an idea struck her. Carla began moving quickly, making a large circle to more familiar grounds. Echo and Deacon remained behind her. They were yelling something, but all Carla could make out was Echo screaming, "Get that bitch!"

Soon she saw the larger cabin through the trees. The "studio" she'd just escaped from. Chester was outside rinsing something off with the hose. She was sure Ollie was inside. She wondered if he was still injured from her attack on him earlier. He squealed like a little bitch earlier when she clawed him. It had only been maybe an hour since she'd escaped from there, but so much had happened already. She felt like there was only one way to be free of these assholes for good.

She waited until Chester went back inside and she ran to the end of the cabin, ducking behind the steps. As she did so, she knocked over a cement block that was stacked against the side. Chester came running back out at the sound. It probably wasn't actually that loud, but to her it sounded like an explosion as the block hit the wooden steps.

"Echo? Is that you?" Chester came down the steps but never saw Carla as she swung the ax, removing his head in one clean swipe. The ax caught in the wall as his body stood for several seconds as blood sprayed from the stump before it finally crumbled to the ground. She put her foot on the wall to pull the ax out when Ollie came stumbling outside. He didn't even get a word out as she brought the ax around, planting it into the top of his skull. His eyes went wide, and mouth gaped open as blood ran down his face.

She removed the ax and let his body fall on top of Chester's. She took the axe and lopped off Ollie's head as well. Taking the two heads, she walked out in front of the cabin and grabbed a couple of large sticks and stuck them into the ground. She placed one of the heads on each stick and went back into the cabin. Let Echo take that shit, while Carla prepared for her.

Carla went into the cabin and began moving things around including setting up the camera. It wasn't long before she heard Echo screaming at Deacon. Carla undressed and strapped on Echo's dildo blow torch and tested it out as she heard Echo screaming from just outside the door. She went to the corner and picked up a baseball bat that had been lying there. Carla noticed it earlier when she was chained up.

Echo continued to scream as she made her way to the cabin. She must have found her brothers' heads. Good. Carla walked up to the door with the bat, reared back into a baseball batting stance and waited. As they got closer, she couldn't wait to inflict as much pain on Echo and Deacon as humanly possible. Her grip on the bat tightened as the door slowly swung open.

Chapter 23

"Let me go you fucking cunt! I'm going to cut your tits off and shove them up your snatch!" Echo screamed. She hadn't seen the baseball bat until it was hitting her in the stomach, doubling her over. Before Deacon knew what was happening, Carla had cracked him against the side of the head, knocking him out cold.

Carla hog tied Echo and shackled Deacon to the wall before cutting the clothing off both of them.

"Oh, what's wrong?" Echo continued. "You all butthurt because I killed your friends? Because I was gonna kill you? Let me fill you in on something, bitch. This is what I do for a living. It's my fucking business. The shit isn't personal. Ok? I don't know anything about you nor do I give a fuck. You could have just escaped. Killing me isn't going to fucking save you. You think Spurlock or Samson will let you go?"

Carla ignored her while walking around looking Echo up and down. She noticed a large tattoo on the girl's back of angel wings. It had to be some sort of irony as this bitch was about the furthest thing from an angel you could get.

"You know," Carla said. "I don't think you're worthy of this tattoo."

"What? What the fuck are you talking about?" Echo asked.

"These wings. You don't deserve them."

Carla straddled her back, still wearing the strap on dildo and activated it. She leaned forward as the flame seared into Echo's flesh. Echo screamed as the torch burned away the tattoo. It had covered most of her back. By the time she was done, there was nothing but a black and charred mass where the tattoo had once been. Echo continued screaming as Carla turned off the torch. She laughed as Echo carried on. For such a tough bitch, she sure cried a lot.

"What's wrong cunt? Not so tough now are you?"

"Fuck you!" Echo screamed.

"You know, I don't like your hair either."

Clara knelt down by her head and activated the torch again, moving her hips around until Echo's hair was totally engulfed in flames. She thrashed and flopped around, but nothing put the fire out as the fire singed every inch of hair from her head. Carla threw a towel over Echo's head as her screams now turned to sobs. Once she removed the blanket, all of Echo's hair was gone, and the top of her head was a burned and crispy dome of burned skin and exposed bone.

Carla laughed even harder as Echo sat there crying. Deacon had awakened in the corner and began screaming as well. She may have to kill them quicker than she had planned since she wasn't sure how much longer she could take their screaming.

She knelt in with the torch and burned off each of Echo's ears and then her nose. Echo screamed and thrashed while yelling some more threats, but at this point Carla couldn't even make out what she was saying. She figured the girl had lost her mind by now. That didn't mean she was done with her. She rolled Echo over and used the dildo torch to burn her tits clean off, leaving nothing but two blackened craters in her chest. By the time she was done, Echo looked like a half burned skeleton. She lay there, still awake but just making some weird gasping sound.

She removed the dildo torch harness and tank before picking up a large knife from one of the benches and walking over to Deacon. Deacon looked up at her, horrified.

"What the fuck? What did you do to her?"

"What's wrong, Deacon? Mad I fucked her all up before you could bang her? She's still alive; you could still fuck her though I suspect she won't be as much fun."

"Jesus Christ. Just leave me alone ok? I didn't hurt you."

"Are you fucking kidding me? I saw what you did to that other girl earlier. You fucking butchered her. And you think you get to walk away from that?"

"So? Not like you knew her. She was just some skank they found."

"Some skank? You were begging to do me next."

"Not like that! I just wanted to have sex with you is all. I know you wanted me the way you'd been checking me out since you got here."

She hit him in the side of the face with the knife handle before straddling him.

"Fuck! What are you doing?"

"You love your pretty face so much; I'm going to save it for you." She began slicing into his face, cutting and ripping the flesh away from the muscle as he screamed. She continued ripping and cutting until his face was free. She held it up for him to see. His screams turned into an animal-like shriek when he saw what she'd done.

She tossed his face aside and continued cutting away at the skin on his shoulders, chest, and stomach. Inch by inch she skinned him alive. All he could do was offer meager resistance, flopping around. When she had finished with him, there was a pile of skin next to him as he lay there bloody and shivering.

"Help me," he whimpered. "I'm cold. It's so cold!"

"Awww, you poor baby," she said as she walked around the cabin until she found a jug of paint thinner. She walked to him and unscrewed the lid and poured it all over his exposed body. It made a sizzling sound as it hit the muscle tissue as Deacon screamed worse than before. She ran it up and down the length of his body until he stopped moving entirely. Looking him up and down, she couldn't tell if he had passed out or dead. Not that it mattered. He'd die soon anyway. She walked back over to Echo, who was lying there sobbing.

She dragged Echo to the doorway and cut the bindings from her hands and ankles and pulled her to her feet. Echo looked at her wide-eyed and terrified. Carla lifted her foot and shoved her in the ass with it, pushing Echo off the steps until she fell flat on her face in the grass. Echo hurried to her feet and limped away into the woods.

Chapter 24

Carla dressed as Deacon moaned and twitched in the corner. Once her clothes were on, she headed out of the cabin. The sun was starting to rise finally casting a bit of light on the wilderness. She made her way through the woods following one of the trails, still carrying the ax in case anyone else gave her any shit. Just ahead she heard someone coming. She ducked off the trail and into the trees.

It was Samson. The large man had taped up his wounded thigh and was stumbling through the woods dragging his chainsaw behind him. He stopped as there was the sound of someone else. Carla looked, and there was Echo running through. Samson turned as Echo ran into him, knocking her flat on her back. In the daylight, she looked even more fucked up than earlier. Carla was even prouder at how badly she burned that crazy bitch.

Samson looked down at Echo for a second as she sat up and began scooting away. Her hair and eyebrows were singed off, and there was just a burned lump of flesh where her nose used to be. She tried getting to her feet when Samson grabbed her arm. Carla thought he was about to fire up the saw when instead he slung it over his shoulder. He picked up Echo in his arms and carried her off.

Carla shook her head and had to stifle a laugh. This couldn't have ended better for Echo. Instead of being dead, that freak Samson was going to take her as his wife. She looked like him now, so they'd be perfect for each other. Maybe she'll even squirt out a few babies that look like the both of them. Carla allowed herself a giggle before she went back down the trail. She found Spurlock's police car sitting outside the fake sheriff’s office. Spurlock was nowhere in sight. Good.

She climbed into the car to find the keys in the ignition. She started it up and put it in drive. It was a short drive down the trail until she was back on the road. She made a left heading back to the freeway. Once on the road, she stomped on the gas taking the old car as fast as it could carry her away from her nightmare. Soon the she was past the woods and driving by open fields and hills. Looking in the rearview mirror, she watched as Psychoville slowly disappeared behind her.

*     *     *     *     *

Spurlock awoke, looking up at the trees. His vision and mind were foggy, trying to remember what had happened. They were chasing the girl who had run into Lindeman's camp among his followers. Echo and Deacon had chased after her as well. Except they ran around the outside of the compound trying to sneak up on her when the crazy bitch blew up the propane tank along with everything else.

The blast and ensuing fires killed Linderman and most of his followers. Looking around, Spurlock saw some of them wandering around, looking lost. He tried to stand but couldn't move his legs. He positioned himself near a cabin not too far from their sacrifice pit. He didn't realize what she'd been up to until it was too late. That was the last thing he remembered. Looking up at the sky, he pushed himself up on his elbows to see how bad his injuries were. The instant he saw both his legs were gone, he lay back down, looked up at the sky and screamed.

The End

Special Preview of

Curse of the Gut Ripper

Tim Miller

Chapter 1

Buddy loaded up the SUV as his girlfriend Katie Rock stood around chatting with their friends John Lepper, his girlfriend Dawn Dewey, Peter Ledsen and Lisa Costello. The six of them had been planning this trip for months; well, the other five had. Going hiking through Texas hill country in July wasn't Buddy's idea of a fun time, but he could never tell Katie no.

"You almost ready?" Katie asked.

"I'd have been done awhile ago if I had some help. You guys just want to stand around jerking each other off."

"Whatever!" They piled into the Expedition as Buddy climbed into the driver's seat. It was going to be a long drive, but he had no doubt it would be fun. John, Dawn, Peter and Lisa were friends of theirs from college. They hadn't seen any of them in almost ten years, so the weekend getaway was a great idea. Buddy thought spending a weekend on Sixth Street in Austin would be more fun than hiking. But Katie the 'health-nut' insisted on hiking.

John and Dawn were into things like hiking, rock climbing, and even skydiving. Peter and Lisa were known to go SCUBA diving in various parts of the world. Buddy was kind of the oddball among the bunch. He'd rather watch a football game than climb rocks or jump out of a perfectly good aircraft.

"So, Buddy," John asked. "You know much about this place we are going?"

"Only that it's hot, and there's lots of rocks."

"You mean Conner's Grove?" Katie asked.

"Yeah, Conner's Grove. You never heard about the people killed there?"

"Oh brother," Buddy said. "People killed how? Snakes? Heat exhaustion?"

"No. The Gut Ripper!"

"What?" The girls said in unison.

"Shut the fuck up," Buddy said.

"I'm fuckin' serious! I googled it. It's this old legend there. Supposedly years ago, like fifty or sixty, some guys were hunting out there. They got lost or something, and one of them flipped out. He killed everyone in his party and cut them wide open, ripping all their guts out. When authorities found them, their intestines and entrails were scattered all over the place."

"That is so gross," Dawn said.

"That's not all," John continued. "So years later, another group of campers was found dead, all their guts ripped out. Happens every few years."

"Bullshit," Buddy said. "Then why is it never on the news?"

"Are you fuckin' serious? You can't believe the lamestream media dude. That's nothing but spoonfed, corporate bullshit. You have to look beyond that to find the real truth."

"Like what? Where did you hear all this?"

"This cool website called Texasurbanlegends.com. Some crazy shit on there dude. They did a story about some secret club for rich people who tortures people for fun a few years ago. Crazy shit."

"Yeah, that sounds like a real legit site," Buddy said. "Did you check any of that with Snopes?"

"Snopes?" John laughed. "Dude fuck Snopes. They are corporate shills owned by the Bush family. You know what that means?"

"Um, I give up."

"Illuminati." John waved his finger as he said it to dramatize the point.

"Oh my God you are so full of shit," Buddy said. "Did you bring a tinfoil hat?"

"Fuck you man. Call me crazy if you want. Look this shit up for yourself. Stop being such a sheeple."

"So when was the last time that this Gut Licker guy killed someone?" Katie asked.

"Gut Ripper," John corrected. "Two or three years ago. Was a couple on their honeymoon decided to go camping. He trashed their campsite, and they were found with their stomachs all ripped out. The girl was hanging upside down from a tree with her entrails wrapped around her corpse. Was a really sickening site."

"You saw it?"

"Just pictures online. Go to Liveleak.com and you can find all kinds of sick shit," John explained.

"So if there is some wild killer on the loose there, why are we going?"

"Why not? You scared?"

"I'm not scared. I'm not the one talking about Jason Voorhees stomping through the woods hacking people up."

"Jason's got nothing on this guy dude. This guy is a monster. And he's for real."

"This is creeping me out," Lisa said after being quite this whole time. "Maybe we should just go to Austin."

"Yeah, Austin would be cool," Dawn said.

"See?" Buddy said, smiling. "Not too late."

"No. We are not going to Austin over some crazy urban legend. Let's just get to Connor's Grove and have fun. There isn't any weird killer going to hurt us." Katie scolded. "We've planned this for months. Besides, John is just trying to scare you all. We're all a little old to be scared of campfire stories."

"You never know…" John said.

"Doesn't matter, we're almost here," Buddy said as they passed a Conner's Grove sign. In just under an hour they arrived. Buddy pulled the SUV to a remote spot and climbed out to stretch his legs. Peter, who had been asleep most of the trip, stepped out and looked around.

"Wow, we're here already?" he said. "That was fast."

"You slept the whole time," Lisa said. "Plus you missed the horror stories."

"What horror story?"

"Nothing," Buddy said. "Just some stuff about Katie's cooking."

Katie punched him in the arm as she climbed out of the truck. Once they were out, they began unloading.

"Should we head out tonight still?" John asked.

"I'm exhausted. I say we set up camp and head out in the morning. It will be dark here soon."

"Sounds good to me," Katie agreed as they dug out the tents and sleeping bags and began setting up. They joked and laughed as they set up the tents while Peter got the grill set up and put chicken and sausages onto the grill. What none of them noticed was the man watching them from behind some large rocks less than one hundred feet away. The man held an ax in his right hand, and both he, and the ax were quite real.

Stay connected with Tim Miller for the release date of Gut Ripper

About the Author

Tim began writing at a very young age. Even in grade school he'd sit around with his notebook, writing stories for himself and his friends.

As an adult, Tim's writings have evolved into darker realms. He released his first horror novel, "The Hand of God" in 2011. Since then his books have become progressively more violent and gory. With the release of "Family Night" in 2013, Tim had moved into the world of extreme horror where he continues to push the boundaries of human suffering.

Tim is now an international best seller as well. His book, "Hell, Texas" has recently ranked high on Amazon sales charts since its release in Germany under German publisher, Festa-Verlag.

Tim is very active on social media and loves interacting with his readers. You can find him at his website at http://timmiller.org

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