Lady

Cannibal

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 laws.

Cover photo made from Stock photo by Tim Miller

Chapter 1

Bailey hated her mom’s boyfriend. She had no real reason to. The guy was nice to her and treated her mom well. He’d never touched Bailey inappropriately or looked at her wrong. On most days, he waited on them both hand and foot. It was a big change of pace from her real dad. Since her dad had died, it had just been her and her mom. Her younger brother, Brian hadn’t coped well with his death. So he had gone off to live with some relatives. It hadn’t been so bad, she kind of enjoyed the girl time. Now she was dating Ricky or Reggie or whatever his name was. Wasn’t that terrible? She couldn’t even remember the guy’s name.

“What’s up princess?” He asked. Reggie, that was his name. He looked like a Reggie, he looked like he just came walking out of an Abercrombie and Fitch store. He even frosted his feathered hair do. Who still does that? Reggie, obviously.

“Why you always seem so angry? I’m not trying to come between you and your mom. I care about you both.” He was sitting in the easy chair her dad used to occupy. Her mom didn’t mind, but it bothered Bailey. She tried to hide her disdain for the guy, but apparently wasn’t doing a good job of it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, feigning concern. “Things are just weird for me. I’m just used to me and my mom. I never did understand why dad had to kill himself. I turn sixteen next month and I just always thought he’d be here.”

Reggie’s forehead wrinkled as he looked Bailey over. Even at fifteen she looked closer to nineteen. Most guys mistook her for much older all the time. She got up and walked over to him, standing before him. Bailey was wearing a cotton tank top and a pair of men’s boxers. It was her usual bum around the house wear. She immediately noticed his eyes going to her breasts. At fifteen she was blessed with 36c’s. On her small frame, they looked huge. She often wondered if she would grow into them, or if they’d grow with her.

As she approached him, she put her hands on his shoulders.

“Bailey,” he said. “What are you…” He was silenced though as she pressed his head in between her breasts while caressing the back of his head and neck with her fingertips.

“Shhh,” she said. “I guess I do accept you. I need you. I need a real man to hold me. To touch me.” She slid the tank top off her shoulders, exposing both breasts as she slid it down around her stomach.

“Bailey, what are you doing…I…I can’t,” he protested.

“Why? You think I’m ugly?”

“No! God no! You’re a kid. I’m with your mom, I…” but she pushed her breasts into his face and he immediately began kissing her breasts. She moaned as his lips ran across her nipples while he nibbled them gently. It did feel good to her, but not as good as she was letting on. He wrapped his arms around her waist as he abandoned all caution and began sucking and licking her breasts intently.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Her mom called out from the doorway. Reggie looked up, surprised as Bailey immediately began crying. She pulled away while pulling up her tank top.

“Get away from me!” She screamed as she ran to her mom. Her mom hugged her as Bailey began sobbing into her shoulder.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Is that why you’ve been dating me? To get to my teenage daughter?” Her mom screamed.

“No! I…I don’t know what happened. We were just talking and…” He tried to explain.

“And what? My daughter’s tits accidentally fell into your mouth?”

“No! She came on to me!”

“That’s a lie!” Bailey turned and screamed. She had full tear streaks running down her cheeks now. “He tried to rape me!”

He stood, looking genuinely scared now.

“That’s a lie! I wasn’t…honest! I…”

“Go to your room pumpkin,” her mom said while hugging Bailey and stroking her hair. “I’ll take care of this. He’ll never touch you again.”

“Ok mama,” Bailey said as she headed down the hall, to her room. Once inside, she closed the door and wiped away the tears while listening to them fight. She’d caused a few fights with them before, but nothing of this magnitude. This one should do them in for sure. If not, then she’d have to take other measures.

From what she could hear, her mom was tearing him a new one. He hadn’t gotten a word in edgewise as her mom screamed at him. Bailey climbed on her bed and listened to the noise. Normally, she’d be putting on her headphones, but not this time. The real music was out in the living room. Before long, the door slammed and it went quiet.

Her door creaked open as her mom came into her room. Bailey quickly produced some new tears as the woman stuck her head inside.

“Hey, you ok?” Her mom asked.

“Yeah,” Bailey whimpered. “I think so.”

“I am so sorry. First your dad, and now this. Don’t worry though. He’s gone, and he’s not coming back.”

“Thank you mama,” Bailey said. She was lying on her side as her mom sat next to her, stroking her blonde hair.

“Just so strange. He seemed so perfect. Reggie has a good job, he’s always been so sweet and attentive. God, I should have known. No one is that perfect, I’m so stupid.”

“No you’re not mama. You didn’t know. At least you walked in before he could hurt me. Thank you.”

“Of course honey. It’s getting late. Will you be ok?”

“Yeah. I’m feeling sleepy. I think I’ll be fine.”

“Ok. Good. You come get me if you need anything, ok?”

“Ok. Night mama,” Bailey said as her mom stood and headed out of her room. As the door closed, she could hear her mom crying down the hallway. It sucked to hurt her mother this way, but it was just part of how Bailey was wired. She lie in bed listening to her mom crying from her own room. Bailey closed her eyes as a smile crossed her face.

Chapter 2

Twelve years later

Bailey sat in the office, staring at the clock on her computer screen. This job sucked. Hard to believe she went through four years of law school to be little more than a glorified law clerk for a large law firm. They handled all kinds of cases, but mostly criminal law. Not that Bailey had ever had any idealistic dreams of truth and justice. She studied law so she could get herself out of trouble if the situation arose.

Either way the job was boring and tedious. She spent most of her days doing research for the lead attorneys. It was a perfect situation actually. The job paid great and helped her to keep a low profile. It was probably best for her not to be going to court and being too visible. Over the years, she had caused her own share of trouble, she just hadn’t been caught.

Since chasing off her mom’s boyfriend at age fifteen, she’d perfected the art of manipulating men. She wasn’t just good at it, she was proficient. If there were a hall of fame in getting men to lose all sense of dignity, she would be the headliner. Usually it was just fun stuff, like money. She’d get them to buy her things, take her on trips. If she felt so inclined she’d have sex with them; most times it never occurred. It was more fun watching them beg for sex, or if she played it right, even a single touch from her.

Her first act of violence was just a couple years ago. It had been by accident, sort of. She’d begun to move on from some of the lower self-esteem guys and onto the more arrogant ones. It was all a game to her and it had become too easy, so she wanted a challenge. Well, Alex had been her challenge. He was a rich frat boy in law school. Although, there were no fraternities in law school, he’d been in a frat during undergrad. His dad was a state senator, so he apparently thought that made him untouchable. He was wrong.

After they’d been dating for just over a month, Alex had taken her to his beach cottage in South Padre. It was there he made his move. Figuring they were isolated enough for him to pull some shit, when she refused his advances once again, he decided to get rough with her. He’d put his hand on her thigh as they sat on the couch, but she gently moved it away.

He then leaned in and began kissing her, while grabbing her tits. Not having any of it, she punched him in the nose which only pissed him off further. He unloaded a barrage of punches, knocking her to the ground and then several kicks. She could tell it wasn’t the first time he’d roughed a girl up, not the way he was enjoying himself and laughing about it throughout the assault. He even had a cattle prod in the cottage. No need for those in South Padre unless you’re up to no good.

Before he could zap her with the cattle prod, she made it to her feet, grabbed him by the back of the head and slammed her knee into his crotch as hard as she could. She wasn’t a big girl, but he wasn’t much taller making it easier. Once he was bent over, she blasted him several times in the face with her knee. She continued, for several blows, long after she felt his nose explode and saw his teeth falling to the floor.

The years of taking Krav Maga seemed to work in her favor. They focused on street fighting and self-defense and it worked like a charm. Once the fight was out of him, she picked up the cattle prod and went to work on him. Between the cattle prod and some tools she’d found in the cottage, Alex was a blubbering mess by the time she’d finished with him. He no longer had teeth, nose, or eyeballs. He kept crying and begging her to let him go and giving some sob story about how he was sorry, but fuck him.

She drove him out to a pier and dumped him in the ocean. She figured he’d wash up on shore and it would look like some drug cartel bullshit. That was the first time she’d killed, but wasn’t her last.

“Bailey baby!” A voice called from behind her. It was Dirk, one of the trial attorneys. She hated him calling her Bailey Baby, but he seemed intent on doing so. “You get that brief ready on the Owens case?”

“Yeah, it’s almost done. I should have it ready before I leave,” she said.

“Almost? Shit honey, I needed it an hour ago. Deadline is tomorrow.”

“Yeah, the end of the day tomorrow. You’ll have it.”

“If you weren’t so hot, I’d go talk to the old man about you.”

Images of cattle prods danced through her mind every time he spoke.

“Yeah, you don’t want to do that. I’ll have it, but I can’t finish it when you’re here talking to me.”

“You have a mouth on you don’t you?”

“Yeah. We all do. Can I finish my work now?”

“Sure. Hey, you want to grab a drink afterwards? I’m a member at Pluto’s lounge. Not just anyone can get in there you know.”

Pluto’s was an Austin high end, high class, uptight and private club for rich douchebags to sit around and jack each other off with their money. Bailey had actually been there a couple times with guys she’d been dating, or playing. It really was boring as hell. There were some women there who were members, but they usually kept to themselves. The DJ played shitty techno and the security guys were assholes.

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass. I have stuff to do tonight,” she said.

“Like what?”

She turned from her desk and looked up at him.

“Stuff.”

He laughed as he backed away. If she had to describe Dirk she’d say he acted like Don Draper, but looked like Steve Buscemi.

“You’ll come around!” He called out as he walked away. She went back to work on his stupid brief. As she finished it up, she fantasized about ways she could make Dirk scream. No picking on co-workers though, too close to home. A girl can dream though.

Chapter 3

After work, Bailey headed out to a nearby bar. She hadn’t been to this one in a while. She wasn’t lying to Dirk about having stuff to do, she did. This was it. Ever since her encounter with Alex, she’d had very few incidents in her activity. The thing was, a lot of these guys threw money at her and she didn’t need it. She made well into six figures a year at the law firm. These games were all just fun, suckering these guys into buying shit was all shits and giggles.

Most of them thought they could buy her, or at least, buy her love and emotions. Problem was, she had no emotions; at least she never actually felt one. Her freshman year in college she took abnormal psychology, it was there they learned about sociopaths and serial killers. While she was far from a serial killer, she definitely fit the definition of a sociopath. While this should have bothered her, she almost felt a sense of relief. At least now she had an explanation for why she enjoyed fucking with people so much. For awhile, she couldn’t figure out why she couldn’t have a boyfriend like normal girls.

Knowing what she was, made it easier for her to accept her circumstances and try to make the best of it, and tonight she planned on doing just that. She was at Stefan’s Bar checking things out. It wasn’t a total dive, but it wasn’t upscale either. She found this a good spot to meet guys. For some reason they liked to come here to keep a low profile. Almost every time someone came over to her. All she had to do was sit in the corner and look bored. This night it took less than an hour.

“Well hello there!” One guy said. He was tall and scruffy with long hair pulled into a man bun. She immediately wanted to stab him.

“Hi!” She said, smiling.

“Mind if I join you? You look awfully lonely.”

“Go ahead,” she said, pointing at the seat next to her. He slid in and looked at her.

“I’m Graves,” he said.

“You’re what?”

“Graves. My name.”

“Graves? Your name is fucking Graves? Is that a joke? Or are you some goth type?”

“No, not goth. I’m an artist.”

“Sounds right.”

“Wow. You sure are cynical aren’t you?”

“Sorry. I’ve been in Austin a few years now, some of the types here are so cliché it’s almost comical. Like artists with man buns named Graves. I’ll bite though. What kind of art?”

“I paint mostly. Nudes.”

“Nudes huh?”

“Yeah, usually abstracts. Sometimes more conventional too. I saw you sitting here and, well you have magnificent bone structure.”

“So what? You want to paint me? Is that it? Want me to go to your studio and get all naked and you paint me while playing some ambient music in the background?” She could tell she was making him uncomfortable, and she liked it.

“I’d like to paint you, yes. You’d be a fantastic subject,” Graves said.

“Wow, subject. So personal! So you always go looking for subjects in bars?”

“Honestly no. I just stopped in for a drink and saw you here. Usually girl’s like you don’t hang out here.”

“Girls like me?”

“Beautiful.”

He was on his game, she had to give him that. The whole sly artist thing going on. Not that he impressed her, but she was intrigued. She usually met the businessy types, had never really looked at an artist before. She figured they were all broke, but this guy was dressed like he had some money.

“Beautiful? So is this like usually a skank hang out?”

“Didn’t mean that. Just mean there usually aren’t many women in here at all. The ones who do come in usually have, um, more mileage on them.”

“Right. Ok. You can paint me,” she said.

“Really?”

“Yep, nudey ass naked. Let’s go.”

“Go where?” He asked. His mask of confidence was slightly cracking. He wasn’t expecting this response.

“To your place. You want to paint me don’t you?”

“Yeah, but…now? I figured…”

“Hey, it’s now or never Gravy.” She stood and undid the top two buttons of her shirt. “You want to see the rest of what’s under here don’t you? I’m feeling adventurous.”

“Well. Ok then. I just live a few blocks from here.”

“Great! Let’s go then.”

She walked out with him to his car. His car was a black sports car. She didn’t recognize the model and didn’t really care. She had no idea what her endgame here was. It just seemed like fun so she’d see where it went. He held the door for her as she climbed in and in a few minutes, they were pulling into a parking garage. Soon they were into his apartment which was bigger than she had suspected.

There were nude paintings lining the walls along with various weird looking statues. Some of the nudes were really fucked up looking. The girls were nude, but some looked dead and mutilated. In one painting, the girl was decapitated and there was a nude man standing over her holding her severed head. Well this just got really interesting.

“Ah, you found my work.”

“What’s with all the gore? You got mommy issues?”

“No. I find a certain beauty in death and darkness. So I take something beautiful that I painted and add in the death and darkness. You’re looking at the result.”

“Did the girls pose like this? With fake blood and stuff?”

“No, I painted them originally with her lying there. Later I added the blood or removed her head. Though I guess it would be easier to dismember them first, but much more messy,” he said.

“Cute.” She began unbuttoning her shirt, and tossed it aside. She had never been incredibly shy. While she wasn’t skinny by any stretch, she wasn’t fat either, just a little curvy. Curvy enough to get guys’ attention, especially her tits. She was quite proud of those.

Once her clothing was gone, she stood there smiling at Graves.

“Ok Picasso. Where do you want me?”

Chapter 4

“Wow,” Graves said, looking her up and down. “How about over here, by the window.”

“Just standing up? Or should I lay on the ground all twisted up.”

“Standing up is fine, I’ll paint you hanging or something.”

He set up a large easel and canvas as he brought over a case filled with brushes and paints. After several minutes, Bailey grew impatient.

“We gonna start today? I’m just standing here naked you know,” she said.

“Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t prepared to paint tonight. No model has ever been this anxious to get started. Maybe I should be worried.”

“About what? And how many girls you score with like this?”

“Score?”

“Yeah, hook up, score, have sex, fuck!”

“None to be honest. This is my art. It’s not porn, it’s not sexual.”

“So my being here naked right now doesn’t turn you on?”

“No. You look great, but a body is a body.”

She had to figure this guy out, it was obvious he was full of shit with the artist gag. Plus he had money, so he sure wasn’t a starving artist. Either way, her curiosity was piqued.

“So this doesn’t bother you?” She asked as she began rubbing her breasts. Bailey massaged her nipples before squeezing her breasts together while rolling her head back. She looked over at him to see he looked irritated. His arms were crossed as he leaned on the easel.

“You having fun?” He asked. “Maybe this was a mistake.” He bent down and started putting paints away.

“What? Hey! I’m just messing around. Just do whatever you have to do.”

“You sure? I hate to interrupt your little party there.”

“Fine, just paint or whatever.”

Finally he began as she stood against the large window holding a pose with her arms out to her sides and her hips cocked to the side. She’d never modeled before and could see why. It was boring as hell. Just standing there. After an hour she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Can I take a break?” She asked.

“Sure,” he said. “I could use one too. You want something to drink?”

“Yes please.”

He sat his brush down and walked out of the room. She walked around to see what he had so far. Looking at the painting was rather horrifying. All her features were extremely dark, he pained her eyes black and put large antlers on her. She’d heard of that before, some creature they call a Wendigo. Big ugly beast with antlers, that also has something to do with cannibalism. It stuck her as odd; she never ate people, not yet anyway.

“Oh you looked!” He said from behind her. Graves was carrying two glasses of red wine. She took one and took a sip. The warm wine tingled in her belly as she took a few more sips. He took some bigger gulps of his as she looked back to the painting.

“So this is how you see me? This Wendigo thing?”

“Wow, you recognized it, I’m impressed. I see you as someone dark, you have some dark side to you. That and I bet you devour your enemies, figuratively at least.”

“You have a point.”

“You ready to finish up?”

“Sure,” she said as she walked up the steps and back to the window. As she got to her pose, Bailey began to feel lightheaded. Looking out the window the streetlights were swirling around as her vision grew foggy. Looking down at her wine, she threw it on the floor as Graves was standing before her with a smirk on his face.

“Motherfucker,” she said just before everything went black.

When she woke up later, she was still naked and tied to a table. The room was dark with some black lights lit all around. There was some weird techno music playing in the background at a low volume. The fucking asshole drugged her. She was so stupid. She should have known better. Especially after seeing his fucked up ass paintings. Footsteps came up behind her as she looked and saw a huge Wendigo standing over her, looking down. At first she thought the drugged wine was giving her a bad trip, but the creature walked around the side of the table.

It wasn’t a wendigo, it was Graves wearing a huge deer head with a giant set of antlers coming out the top. The eyes were cut out just leaving a set of hollow black holes. She could hear Graves breathing from inside the mask. Other than the mask, she was totally naked and sporting a raging hard on. He carried a knife in his right hand, holding it over her. This dickbag was crazier than she was.

He held the knife over her and ran it across her stomach, just enough to hurt and draw a trail of blood. Her stomach tightened as the knife ran across it. He stood back and watched. She figured he was enjoying the show and trying to thrive on her fear, but she wasn’t afraid. Just angry.

Struggling against her restraints, she could feel the plastic zip ties cutting into her wrists. Her hands were bound over her head and to the table. She wiggled her wrist around, and noticed the left tie wasn’t as tight as the right one. As he waved the knife over her with one hand, he stroked his erection with the other. When that wasn’t enough, he touched the tip of his cock to her leg and ran it along the edge of her thigh all the way up her side.

His dick felt gross up against her. The guy repulsed her, and she wanted to kill him. Though he seemed pretty certain he was going to kill her first. At least she knew his fucked up paintings were real, but none of those girls were like her. Turning her left hand to the side and balling it up, she gave it a hard tug and ripped it free of the zip tie. Plastic cut through her flesh, tearing skin away as her hand came free.

He was bringing the knife over her body again when she grabbed it with her free hand. She wished she could see the expression on his face when she grabbed him. He went to pull the knife away, and he was much stronger than her, but she twisted it out of his hand, grabbed the handle and slashed at his boner, cutting the tip off in one swipe.

He doubled over, screaming through the mask as she cut her other hand free and then her legs. She jumped off the table and ripped his mask off. His hair was still in the man bun, but he looked shocked and scared as he pinched his hand over his bloody gushing dick.

“Boom motherfucker!” She yelled as she slammed her knee into the side of his head, knocking him to the ground. She grabbed him by the hair and put the knife to his throat.

“Get up bitch!” She said. “Lie on the table! You wanna play rough? You wanna play fucking rough? I’ll fucking give it to you rough asshole.”

“Please! I’m sorry! I was just messing around, like role play! I thought you wanted to mess around the way you were acting.”

“By drugging me and tying me to a table? You’re out of your fucking mind!” She pressed the knife tighter on his neck, drawing a little blood. He lie back on the table as she found the box of zip ties just under the table. She took one out and tied his near hand, zipping it so tight his hand turned blue. She finished securing him while she looked at his now headless dick.

“What are you going to do to me? You shouldn’t hurt me. My family has money. We can pay you. Just let me go!” He begged.

Bailey ignored him as she bent down and picked up the Wendigo mask. She placed it over her head and looked down at Graves. His eyes went wide with terror as he let out the most inhuman scream she’d ever heard. Beneath the mask, she smiled.

“Well,” she said. “This is more like it.”

Chapter 5

“My dick! You cut off my fucking dick! Please? Just call an ambulance!” Graves cried as he thrashed about. Bailey was unmoved.

“Are you fucking insane? You drugged me, tied me up naked and started cutting on me and you think I’m going to do anything to help your broken little dick?” She said. “Oh no. You painted me as your Wendigo, that’s what you’re going to get.”

She held the knife over him and reached into his mouth while he continued to scream. Holding his tongue with one hand, she sliced through it with the other. Blood sprayed from his mouth as she removed his tongue. He continued screaming, but at least it was just gibberish now. Holding up the severed tongue, she examined it through the mask before she stuffed it through the deer’s mouth.

There was a tube that ran from the mask’s mouth to her own. She put her mouth on the mouth piece and sucked the severed tongue into her mouth. It was gross. Slimy and metallic tasting, she chewed it what felt like a hundred times before swallowing. She had to force it down, but it went down ok. She guessed it wasn’t the worst thing she ever ate.

She had thought about taking his eyes next, but they were filled with such terror and pain, she decided she liked seeing his fear, so she left them. Since his dick was already partly cut, she decided to go to work on his testicles. Cutting through his scrotum, he screamed and struggled.

“Hold still!” She said. “You’re gonna make it worse.” She finally had the scrotum split open and cut one of the testicles free. He yelped and howled as she held it up. It looked like a brown egg, and was firm and rubbery. Graves was heaving and suddenly threw up all over himself. His mouth was covered with his own puke and blood.

“You’re so disgusting Graves. Pull yourself together.”

His response was to cry something out in gibberish as blood and puke bubbled from his mouth. She sat his testicle on his stomach and sliced it into three pieces and ate each one. This was rubbery like the tongue, except harder. After a few tough bites, she swallowed each piece. Over the next few hours she took Graves apart one piece at a time. She ate his testicles, his cock, and went on to cut out his kidney, and even cut his intestine into slices and ate at least a foot of them.

She had no idea why exactly she was eating him. Cannibalism wasn’t something she had ever thought of or fantasized about, but him painting her as the Wendigo had made her wonder. That and she figured he was planning on eating her. As she devoured his organs though, something began to take hold. His cries at the horror of what she was doing to him, as well as the thrill of watching him suffer.

Perhaps she was eating his strength or his essence, but probably not. Whatever was happening she was enjoying it. By the time she was finished, it looked like some bizarre surgery had taken place. Graves’ torso was ripped open with entrails strewn about. She finished up by cutting out his heart and taking a few bites, but by then she was full. She wondered if she would keep all this down. None of it made her feel sick, strangely enough. Maybe she was cut out for cannibalism. Either that or maybe she was far more twisted than she had originally thought. Her mom stopped talking to her years ago. Said she scared her. Though she wasn’t sure why. She’d never lifted a finger to hurt her mom. Though she did have sex with her last boyfriend. That was another story.

She removed the mask and took a shower in Grave’s bathroom. As the blood washed off her, she looked at her hands under the running water. She liked how that mask felt. It felt good over her face, against her body. It was not just as if she were someone else, but she was no longer Bailey the empty girl. She was the Wendigo, the Lady Wendigo. As Bailey, she was just a girl, a young woman. As Lady Wendigo, she was something else entirely.

It was obvious the minute she put the mask on. The look on Graves’ face said it all. The immediate look of terror once she was under the mask was almost arousing. Once she finished in the shower, she dressed and threw a blanket over his body. She cleaned up around the apartment and grabbed his painting of her and the mask and put them in his car. After some deliberation, she folded his body into a large trunk he’d had in his bedroom and closed it up inside, before sliding it back to its place in the closet.

Once she was finished cleaning, she drove his car a few blocks away from the bar and walked to hers, drove her car back to his and unloaded her stuff into her car before heading home. If she was going to do this regularly, she would need to be more prepared. Tonight’s episode just sort of happened, but she had a lot of fun. Looking at her clock, it was just after 6 am. Yeah, this wasn’t going to work regularly. For today, she saw a sick day in her future. Thought it would be more like a sleep day.

She got home and carried her stuff inside, glad she had bought her own house last year instead of staying in the apartment. Last thing she needed was some neighbors asking why she’s carrying around a huge deer head. Once inside she put everything in her living room and headed to the bedroom where she fell asleep the instant her head hit the pillow. Her dreams were weirder than in the past. These consisted of lots of blood, body parts, and the Wendigo.

Chapter 6

Bailey awoke to the sound of knocking at her door. Whoever it was seemed intent on making sure she heard them. It was a constant barrage of banging. She sat up and looked at her phone. It was after 2 pm. Shit, she slept all day. As she stumbled to the door, she brushed the hair out of her face.

“I’m coming already! Fuck!” She yelled as she opened the door. There was a tall guy in a suit standing there looking pissed. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Bailey Hart?” He asked.

“Who wants to know?”

He reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out a badge.

“I’m Detective Schmidt, Austin PD. I need to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“About Gordon Freidman.”

“Who the fuck is Gordon Freidman?”

“He goes by Graves. His family owns Freidman Foods in Dallas.”

She knew it.

“Holy shit. I fucking knew it. Bullshit hipster artist asshole.”

“So you know him?”

“Not really. Met him at a bar last night. Went back to his place and had a few drinks, but he fell asleep. He was kind of an asshole.”

“Well his sister stopped by his apartment today and he wasn’t there. She said they always go out to breakfast on Thursdays so this was odd. So she called us.”

“And because they are rich, they put a detective right on it, right?” She said.

“So did anything happen?”

“How did you know I was with him?”

“A few people at the bar saw you with him. You paid with a credit card so here we are.”

This guy had no personality at all. Reminded her of Joe Friday from Dragnet. Yes, she was way too young to know that show, but her grandma used to have them on VHS. She always thought it was funny how stiff and straight laced Friday was. “Just the facts ma’am.” He used to say. She was waiting for Schmidt to say the same thing.

“Well aren’t you clever. Did you know I was a lawyer?”

“Yes I do.”

“So I answered your questions.”

“Would you mind coming down to the station and make a statement. In case something has happened. That way we can rule you out right away.”

“Something happened? Like what?” She asked.

“It would be best if you came down.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“No, it’s just a…”

“Bye detective,” she said as she closed the door. She stood there for a moment and looked through the peephole. He was standing there looking flustered. She could tell he was used to intimidating people into getting what he wanted. Bailey didn’t intimidate. They had nothing, hell they didn’t even know he was dead yet. They would soon once his body started to smell.

She headed into the bathroom and got dressed. First thing she needed to do was get something to eat. Last thing she ate was Graves or Gordon or whoever he was. As she dressed her phone went off. There was a text from her boss saying he needed her to come in. Fuck, can’t a girl even take a sick day? She replied saying “I’m sick.”

He replied back insisting he needed to see her today. Shit. She changed into her more work appropriate clothing. Dress slacks a blouse and a blazer, her standard go to. She left house and headed to the law firm. As she walked in, people were looking at her as if she owed them all money. When she got to her boss’ office, the old man was glaring at her from behind his desk like an angry headmaster.

“Come on in Bailey. Close the door.”

“What’s going on? I feel like I just did the walk of shame out there.”

“Bailey, you’ve always done good work here.”

“Yeah, I know. I can’t take a sick day? I feel like shit.”

“I can imagine,” he said. “The police were here earlier. Seems you had quite a night.”

Fuck. So much for her sick excuse.

“Look. I wasn’t drunk ok? I just stayed out too late.”

“Yes, with that Freidman boy who is now missing? I know his dad. We went to undergrad together at UT.”

“I don’t know why he’s missing. I had nothing to do with it. The dude passed out on me. Plus, he told me he was an artist named Graves.”

“Yes. He’s always tried to shun his familial roots. Not their money though, he always takes the money. Either way, between your attitude here, Dirk told me the way you spoke to him the other day. This isn’t the first time he’s complained about your attitude.”

“Are you kidding me? That asshole calls me Bailey Baby and is always trying to get me to sleep with him. So yeah I told him where to get off.”

“I’m not aware of any such behavior. Dirk has always been a fine attorney. Between that and now whatever you’ve gotten yourself into, I’m afraid I can’t risk this firm’s reputation. I’m going to have to let you go,” he said.

“What? Are you fucking kidding me?” She shot out of her chair.

“You’re firing me over one goddamn sick day?”

“Bailey, please,” he said as two security guards appeared at the door. “These gentleman will escort you out. I’ll have your things boxed up and mailed to you.”

“Just shove them up your pasty ass,” Bailey said as she walked out of his office. The rest of the firm was dead silent, staring at her. She stopped and looked around.

“What?” She called out, but they all went back to doing their thing. Except for Dirk who had a stupid smirk on his face as he walked up to her.

“So, how about that drink now?” He said smugly.

She looked at him and smiled. His teeth were crooked and his hair always looked greasy, yet the dickhead always managed to have a hot girlfriend and always weaseled his way out of shit. Bailey had to resist the urge to stab him in the throat with a letter opener. Instead she leaned in and whispered in his ear.

“I’m going to kill you,” she said. “But I’ll eat your insides before I do.” And she kissed him on the cheek as she walked out. She didn’t have to look back to know that Dirk was no longer smiling.

Chapter 7

Today’s trip to Home Depot was different than her usual. On a normal weekend trip, she’d be buying stuff for the yard or window shopping over ways to redecorate her bathroom. Today, it was a wide variety of equipment. Plastic for one, yards and yards of plastic roles. She’d left way too much of a mess in Graves’ apartment. Once they actually started looking there was no telling what they would find, though she was certain she’d cleaned up well enough.

She bought all kinds of tools including pincers, pliers, icepick, a hammer, nails and a blowtorch. She also bought a workbench and other miscellaneous items. Thankfully no one gave her any weird looks at checkout, even though she was buying a Dexter Morgan starter set.

Once she finished up, she loaded the things into the back of her new Tahoe she had just bought. Probably not the best idea to buy a new car when you are recently unemployed, but the Beemer just wasn’t going to cut it. After loading it all up, she headed to her next destination. On the north side of Austin, she’d rented a large storage unit. The thing was big enough she could store the Tahoe in there along with almost everything else she owned and still have room. She’d paid a full year on it too, so no one would come sniffing around.

Parking the Tahoe just outside, she went in and began to set up. Included in her purchase had also been several large rubber trash cans, and dozens of boxes of trash bags. Once she perfected her new craft, she’d need to find a more eco-friendly means of body disposal. In the meantime, trash bags would have to work. It took several hours to get the place set up to her satisfaction, but she was happy with the result.

The workbench and table were at the center of the unit, with plastic lining the floor all around. She hung additional sheets along the walls just in case of any splatter. The tool box sat on the work bench and the Wendigo head was safely stored in a large trunk she’d brought from home. Once it was all set up, she stood back and admired her handiwork. She even brought a case of hand sanitizer and a portable shower.

She didn’t plan on wearing any kind of apron or coveralls during her work. There was something very raw and almost erotic about killing while naked. It was like she felt closer to nature or something. She’d never felt close to much of anything, so whatever gave her a little bit of a thrill was something worth pursuing. Hopping back into the Tahoe she drove home figuring she had time for a nap.

Dirk’s house wasn’t too far from hers. It might be too soon to kill him, since she had just been fired. That was why she had never chosen him as one of her dating targets. He was too close to home in case something went wrong. Now she just didn’t care. The guy was a sack of shit and she wanted to see him suffer. Up until yesterday he had only been annoying. His coming out and gloating over her being fired, well, that was punishable by death.

She parked in her garage and headed inside. Lying on the couch, she figured getting a couple hour nap in would help her stay alert for the night. When she awoke, it had been almost three hours. It was dark outside and time to go see Dirk.

As she pulled up to his house, the lights were on so she was glad to know he was home. Looking in her mirror she checked herself out one more time. She’d done herself up as if she were headed for a night on the town. Dirk only thought with his dick, so she figured it would be easy enough to draw him out. She climbed out of the Tahoe and up to his door and rang the doorbell.

“Bailey?” He said when he answered the door. “Holy shit. What are you doing?”

“Well, I felt bad about what I said to you yesterday. That was really fucked up of me to threaten you like that. So I wanted to make it up to you.”

“Well shit. I mean, yeah it was pretty fucked up. I guess I was kind of a dick to act that way after you’d just gotten fired. Um, come on in.”

He seemed weird, not his usual cocky self. Maybe he was in the middle of something already. The living room was small, with a single couch and big screen TV at the center.

“Go ahead and have a seat. I’ll be right back.” He walked out of the room as she sat on the soft couch. After a few moments he returned with a couple of beers. Both were opened and after the last time a guy brought her a drink, she wasn’t about to touch this one.

“What is this?” She asked.

“Well. I’m not really in the mood to go out. But we can have a drink together here.”

Are you fucking kidding?

“You serious? You’ve been trying to get me to go out with you for ages.”

“I know. It’s just…” he said as he scooted closer to her on the couch. This wasn’t going how she planned at all. “I thought since you’re here, we could think of some other ways to, you know, make up.”

“Yeah, I didn’t have that in mind.” She scooted away.

“What? You don’t think I knew why you came here? All dressed up like you’re ready to hit the club? Why not just skip the club part and go right to the after date festivities?” He leaned in to kiss her, but when she pulled back he grabbed her arm.

“What is your problem?” He asked. “You come here just to fuck around with me?” Now he was sounding angry, unlike his usual smug routine. She stood, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her down.

“Hey,” he said. “Not so fast.”

“Dirk. Let me go ok? I’ll just go.” She didn’t want to go, she wanted to club him over the head and drag him back to her storage unit, but that wasn’t quite feasible at the moment. The idea had been to lure him into her car first.

“I’m not hurting you. This is what you wanted. Why else would you come over here?”

“I’m warning you. Ok? Just take your hand off me.”

He just smiled and squeezed a little tighter.

“I think you like it rough.”

“I said stop!” She yelled as she punched him in the jaw. He let go and stumbled back. He looked at least as shocked as she did. She wasn’t prepared for or expecting a head to head physical confrontation, but it looked like she was about to get one.

“Oh you do want it rough, huh cunt?”

He lunged at her, but she grabbed the lamp and swung it at him. It struck his face with just enough force to knock him to the side. He stumbled past her into the TV and knocking it over as the screen cracked like a spiderweb. He got onto all fours, but Bailey kicked him with her heel in the face. Dirk grunted as he rolled to his side while Bailey kicked him at least a dozen more times in the face and stomach.

She grabbed her purse and jumped on his back while dumping her purse out onto the floor. Thankfully she brought one roll of duct tape in with her. The original plan was to tape him up in the car, so her purse would be in easy reach. The tape rolled out of the purse and she grabbed it, immediately taping his hands together behind his back.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He said, struggling to get free, but she was already taping up his feet.

“You wanted to know why I really came? You’re about to find out.”

“You fucking psycho. Cut that shit off me!”

“Nope. We’re going to play my way tonight. You wanted a date, you wanted to fool around? You got it lover boy .”

He struggled as blood ran down his nose. Her dress was partly ripped and her shoes had flown off. Now how was she going to do this? She had to get him into the car without being seen by the whole neighborhood. She dragged him to the doorway as he continued kicking. She didn’t like the way the tape looked around his feet, so she wrapped more around both his hands and feet until he was satisfied he wasn’t getting loose. As she finished, footsteps sounded from down the hallway. She looked up to see a tiny silhouette standing in the doorway a little boy’s voice called out.

“Daddy!”

Chapter 8

“Daddy? The fuck? You have a kid?” She asked.

“He’s my son. I have him a few months out of the year.”

“Shit!”

“What are you doing to my daddy? The little boy asked.

“It’s ok honey. Me and your daddy are just playing a game is all. It’s like wrestling.”

“Why is he bleeding?”

“It’s ok Tommy. We’re just playing,” Dirk said.

The last thing she had planned for was a kid. Her first thought was to call the whole thing off and just cut Dirk loose, but that wouldn’t work. Dirk would just run to the police. The little boy stood there crying, but was walking up closer to his dad. Looking around the room, she spotted a wastebasket next to the couch. She grabbed the wastebasket and pulled the liner out.

Tommy was standing just a few feet away looking at his dad. Bailey walked up and wrapped the liner around his head, squeezing it into a tight seal around his neck.

“No!” Dirk screamed as he began struggling and thrashing about. Tommy wiggled against Bailey as she held his body close with her one arm while holding the bag in place with the other. The little boy kicked and thrashed for almost a minute before going limp.

“Shh,” she said to the boy. “Just sleep. Just sleep.” She continued holding the bag in place for another minute before lying the boy’s body onto the floor.

“Tommy! No! Why! Why did you kill my little boy?”

“Shut up!”

“You fucking bitch! I’m gonna kill you! I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

His screaming was getting too loud. She grabbed the tape and wrapped the duct tape around his mouth and head several times until his sounds were only muffled grunts. He continued to cry and sob while flailing, but at least he wasn’t as loud. She went out through the garage and opened the garage door. The neighborhood was rather quiet as she got into the Tahoe and backed it as far up to the garage as she could.

Heading back inside, she wrapped the boy’s body in a blanket and carried him out to the Tahoe, placing him in back. She rolled Dirk up in a blanket as well and had to drag him through the house and into the back of the Tahoe. He was heavier than she suspected. It took her several tries, but she got him into the back of the Tahoe. She threw another blanket over them as she closed the tailgate. She took a moment to catch her breath as she closed the garage door and climbed into the Tahoe, heading to her storage unit.

The drive there had been mostly uneventful, until she ran a red light; though, she didn’t run it outright. It was yellow and she tried to make it through, but it turned red at the last minute. Red enough for a cop to pull her over. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! She had to stay calm. She had a dead child in the back of her fucking car and the kid’s dad all taped up and squirming. If she stayed cool, she could get out of this.

As the cop approached in her mirror she looked down at her dress and pushed her boobs up while pulling her dress down enough to show a bit more skin. She dug her license out of her purse as he reached the window.

“Good evening ma’am,” the cop said. He was about her age and not real tall. “You know you ran a red light back there?”

“I’m sorry,” she said while leaning forward. “I was trying not to.” She could feel his eyes on her cleavage as she pressed her boobs against the door.

“Yeah, it happens. License and registration please?”

She handed it to him as he walked back to his car. So far, so good. After a few minutes, he walked back up to the car and handed back her license.

“Ok. You got a good driving record. I’m gonna let you off with a warning this time. Just try to…” Something banged against the back seat causing him to stop and look toward the back of the Tahoe.

“What was that?” He asked. “You got something back there?”

“No. I picked up some groceries earlier. Mostly canned stuff and it must be shifting around. I put the blanket over it to keep them from getting too hot. I didn’t go straight home.”

“You went to the grocery store dressed like that?” He asked.

“Well yeah, figured I’d grab what I need at the store than just go out after shopping. Save me a trip.”

He smirked as he looked her up and down.

“Ok I guess. Just be careful,” he said as he walked back to the squad car. She didn’t move until he was completely gone.

“Holy fucking shit!” She called out once he drove away, resting her head on the steering wheel. “Fuck me. Fuck!” She’d need to be more careful if she made it through tonight. Nothing had gone the way she’d planned at all. The rest of the drive was uneventful and finally she arrived at the storage unit. She opened the door and pulled the Tahoe inside, closing the overhead door behind the big vehicle.

She rolled Dirk out, who was still crying, struggling, and blubbering and placed him onto the table. The boy she placed in one of the rubber trash cans to be dealt with later. She strapped Dirk’s hands and feet to the table using zip ties. From there she cut his clothes off him and finally removed the duct tape. As he lay there screaming, she removed her dress, cleaned off her make up and walked to the large stand and put the Wendigo head on.

Turning to face him, she was now wearing nothing but the Wendigo mask and exposing her naked body. She walked over to Dirk and stood over him as he looked up at her, his eyes widening.

“Oh my God!” he cried. “What are you doing?”

She looked at him through the mask. Lying there on the table he looked small, distant. Inside the mask, she was someone else, something else. Her most basic instincts were now taking over.

“It’s dinner time.”

Chapter 9

It almost felt as if the Wendigo mask were a filter of some sort. Filtering out all reality and making it her own as she sees it. The Wendigo was something she’d heard of years ago but never thought much about. Unlike werewolves, vampires and witches, the Wendigo never got much air time.

The creature is a Native American legend, usually along the Atlantic coast, but are often associated with winter and coldness. So, it seemed odd Graves had latched onto the myth here in Texas. Yet, he was gone and she was carrying it on. The Wendigo was a half human, half beast demon. In many drawings and depictions, it has the head of a deer or elk with the body of a human, and is always associated with cannibalism. Tribal legends believed that a person who ate human flesh could turn into a Wendigo. Once they ate human flesh, their hunger for it became insatiable. The more they ate, the more they craved, and the more powerful the spirit grew within.

So there she was, looking down at Dirk as the Wendigo and he begged for his life.

“What the fuck? You’re fucking insane!” He screamed. Once he saw the scalpel, he immediately stopped crying over the loss of his little boy. All he cared about now was the intense suffering he was about to go through. She started with his arm, cutting around his elbow and along his forearm and to his hand.

Once she was satisfied with the incision, she peeled the flesh off like a long glove. He screamed as the skin ripped from the muscle. She tossed the mass of flesh into a bucket next to her and went to work on his other arm, doing the same thing, ripping it free as Dirk howled once again. Tears streaked his face as she tossed the flesh from his arm into the same bucket.

She proceeded to remove the skin from both of his legs as well as his chest. Once she was satisfied with skinning him, she held the blowtorch into the bucket, cooking the pile of flesh. It popped and sizzled as the smell filled her nostrils. It actually smelled quite good as Bailey’s mouth watered while she took in the aroma. When it was nice and brown, she picked up a piece of skin and tasted it. The meat lacked a little flavor, but she could improve. She planned on taking the bucket with her for cooking later on.

Dirk lie on the table, coughing and gurgling.

“Just kill me. Kill me you fucking cunt. I hope you choke on my flesh.”

“Oh, that’s not going to happen,” she said as she stood over him. The fear in his eyes emboldened her. It made her want to hurt him even more. She dug into her tool kit and pulled out the ice pick. She held it over his right eye while forcing his eyes open with her fingers.

“Fuck! No! No my eyes! Please!” He screamed as he tried to wiggle away, but he was too weak and her grip was too firm. She pushed the ice pick into the surface of his eyeball. He yelped as it went in slowly, until she felt something pop. White fluid poured out from his iris as she pushed the ice pick the rest of the way through. Giving it a twist to an angle, she popped the eyeball right out of the socket, then using the scalpel to cut the optic nerve. She looked at the eyeball which was now turning flat, like a deflated basketball due to the hole she’d poked through it. Fluid was still oozing from it as she tossed it into the bucket.

She poked out the other eye as Dirk continued to scream.

“There, now you can’t stare at my ass anymore,” as she laughed.

“Why are you doing this? So, I was an asshole to you. I admit it. None of that is worth this. You’re fucking sick!”

“Yeah, I know for a long time something was wrong with me, but now, I’m thinking the problem is more with everybody else.”

She picked up the pincers and looked at his feet. Despite the flesh being ripped off his legs, his toenails were still intact. That is until she ripped each one off with the pincers. One by one the toenails tore away from their toes with a crunching, ripping sounds. Dirk cried and twitched each time. She tossed the discarded nails aside and moved on to his jaw.

Using a series of tools, she cut away at the flesh and muscle around his jaw as he screamed and even tried to bite her in several instances, but wasn’t fast enough. She cut through and using the blowtorch, pulled his jaw free. He shrieked as the blowtorch melted his flesh away around his neck and chin. Looking at the removed jaw, she noticed he had a few filings.

“Wow, good thing I removed that for you,” she said. “You got something stuck in your teeth there.” She looked at it and tossed it aside as she looked over her handiwork. Dirk’s face was now eyeless and jawless as he made sick squealing, gurgling sounds. She was surprised he hadn’t died of shock yet, but was pleased he live to experience the whole thing.

It was time for one final thing. She took the hacksaw and began cutting away at the top of his head. When she finally got the skull cap off, it was jagged and far from surgical precision, but the brain was exposed. She tried to pull the brain out cleanly, but ended up having to cut it up into four or five large pieces and placed them in the bucket as well.

Now that Dirk was obviously dead, she wrapped his body up in the plastic covering the table and began the cleanup. It didn’t take as long as she feared. She balled up all the plastic and stuffed Dirk’s body in one of the trash cans while packing his son’s body into the other. She put the Wendigo mask into the trunk and poured the skin and brains into a cooler packed with ice. She cleaned out the bucket with bleach and placed it in the corner.

Last thing she did was took a quick shower in the portable shower and cleaned up the rest of the unit with more bleach. All that remained of her work was the two trash cans and the cooler. She placed them all into the back of the SUV and headed out.

She drove out to the Lake Austin part of the Colorado River and parked along the bridge. It was still plenty dark out and there were no other cars in the area. She rolled each garbage can out and pushed them off the bridge, watching them sink into the water. If anyone did find them, any evidence will have been washed away or eaten by the fish. She stood there watching for a few minutes, making sure they didn’t come bobbing back up, which they didn’t.

Bailey climbed back into the SUV, her stomach was growling as she thought about returning home with her cooler full of goodies. This would be an interesting breakfast. She wasn’t sure if she’d really become more powerful like the Wendigo or if she was just losing her mind. Either one was possible she supposed. After last time, she decided not to eat anymore raw flesh or organs.

As she drove home, she ran down a checklist in her mind to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything or left any evidence behind that would lead the cops once again to her door. Though they would likely come around anyway, since she knew Dirk. That should be a few days at least. As far as she could remember, she covered all her bases. When she pulled into her garage, all she could think of was her new modified recipe for bacon and eggs.

Chapter 10

Bailey was scarfing down her breakfast. The bacon and eggs recipe worked perfectly. Though it was really Dirk’s skin cut into long strips and fried with his brains sautéed in butter, chopped into small chunks and “scrambled” with the bacon. She added some salt and seasonings and there it was. It was quite good.

Once finished, she felt stuffed. There was plenty left in the pan she couldn’t even finish. It was a shame to let it go to waste, so she packed it into a container and placed it in the fridge. That could be her dinner, or breakfast for tomorrow. She changed clothes and was just about to climb into bed when someone began knocking on her door once again. Her first fear was the cops were about to bust her for killing Dirk and his son, but she figured they’d be kicking down her door with SWAT teams and shit.

She opened the door once again to see Detective Schmidt standing there.

“Good morning Bailey,” he said. “Can I come in?”

“What is this about?”

“Gordon Freidman. We found his body.”

Shit. Well she knew they’d find it eventually.

“Oh? He’s dead?” She said.

“Yes. He’s dead. Can I come in please?”

She stepped aside and let him inside. He walked in and glanced around.

“Thank you. Something smells really good,” he said.

“Oh yeah. I just made breakfast. I there’s plenty left if you want some. I was just about to put it away.”

“Really? That’d be great.”

She tried not to laugh as she headed into the kitchen, grabbed the container and dumped onto a plate, grabbed a fork and a soda and brought it out to the detective. He smiled as he took it and had a seat.

“So you live alone?” He asked.

“Yeah,” she said trying to seem unsettled by the news of Graves’ death.

“This is really good. I love bacon and eggs. What did you add to it?” He asked.

“I don’t know, just butter and some seasonings. I try to be creative when I cook and use brains as much as I can.”

“Well you’re a smart lady that is for sure,” he said as he took a bite of the crispy bacon before taking a drink of soda. “Ok. So about Gordon, or Graves as you know him. You told me a little bit before. Why were you so stand offish before? Did you know he was dead?”

“No. I was just tired. You’d woken me up and then acted like I somehow knew where he was. We had some drinks and he passed out, so I left.”

“So when you were there, did you see anyone else in the apartment at all? Anyone coming or going or anyone who looked weird or strange?”

“No. No one.” Though she wondered if she should make a person up to get him off her ass. Except if they found out there was no one that would really look suspicious on her. Either way, she was struggling not to bust out laughing at him eating Dirk’s skin and brains as if it were his last meal.

“We went over his apartment with luminal, there was blood everywhere. Someone had really cleaned up, and then they took a shower. Whoever it was, cleaned the shower and even the drain. You’re the last person we can find who was anywhere near him. Then there is the matter of he’d been mutilated pretty badly.”

“Holy shit. Seriously?”

“Yeah. Seriously. Including his penis had been cut off and his testicles had been removed.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Right. Now, this is where you come in as well. Something like that, which is rage. It is removing his manhood and emasculating him. It’s not something a burglar would do or even a crime of passion. He was systematically tortured in the most humiliating ways imaginable. I think a woman may have done this, or at least had a part in it. He wasn’t a small guy, so not sure how a girl could have over powered him, but we are waiting on his toxicology.”

“So you think I did this?” She sat up. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No. No, I’m not saying that at all. Just trying to tell you what happened after you left and see if anything comes to mind. There is one more thing I want you to know. As we searched his apartment and went through his things, we found a collection. Jewelry, necklaces, locks of hair that all belonged to girls who have been reported missing in the last five years. There were at least eight different women’s belongings we could identify so far.”

“Oh my God. You think…”

“I think he was a serial killer. None of these girls were ever found and they were all various demographics. White, Hispanic, black, college age, and middle age. So none of their disappearances triggered anything.”

“Holy fuck.”

“I think you’re lucky he passed out, Bailey. No telling what he could have done to you.”

“Wow. That’s crazy.”

“Part of me wonders if one of his victims’ family didn’t find out what he had done and got some revenge. Either way, his family is denying all of this and wants someone caught. So I’m on the case, but it sounds like someone may have done us a huge favor and maybe saved some lives,” he said as he sat the plate down and finished off the soda. As he stood, he nodded to Bailey. “Thank you again for breakfast. Never had anything like it.”

“I’m certain of that,” she said.

“So I’m glad you’re safe. Just be careful. Oh, why aren’t you at work?”

“They fired me after you stopped by last time. They thought I was involved somehow with Graves disappearing. My boss is friends with his parents.”

“Oh no. I’m sorry. I told them I just had a couple questions for you. I never said you were a suspect. I can give him a call if you’d like.”

“No. Don’t worry about it. I needed a change anyway.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” she said. Though it would be interesting to watch them all wonder about Dirk. She wondered if Detective Schmidt would be on that case also.

“Ok. Suit yourself. Have a good day, Bailey.” He said as he walked out. Though he looked like he was just a few years older than her, Schmidt had this weird quality like he could have been a doctor or something. The way he spoke and carried himself was all so clinical. She wondered if he was that way all the time or if it was a work persona. Either way, she was glad he was off her trail. Last thing she needed was legal problems while honing her new skill.

So far, she was doing pretty well. Though out of nowhere a burst of laughter hit her. It quickly turned into a giggle fit as it sank in, she just fed a cop the brains of a murder victim he wasn’t even aware of. She wondered how it would go down for him. Would he get sick later and throw it up? Or just shit Dirk out like the piece of shit Dirk really was. It was a funny thought. She was finally able to calm herself down as she climbed in bed. As she closed her eyes, a smile came across her face as she thought about all she had accomplished the last few days and in who she was becoming.

Chapter 11

Ezra sat at the bar tapping the ashes from his cigarette into an empty glass while nursing his rum and Coke. The bar was dark and had a jukebox that only played 70’s music. It wasn’t even good 70’s music, it was the bottom half of the top forty. As he smoked his cigarette, the greasy bartender stood there glaring at him as if he owed the guy money. Ezra stared back until the guy finally grew enough balls to speak up.

“Hey grandpa, there’s no smoking in here.” The bartender said. Ezra didn’t appreciate the grandpa comment, but he didn’t let his annoyance show. He just took another drag from the smoke.

“Hey! You deaf pal?” The bartender was an overweight, middle aged guy who was trying to put on a New Jersey accent, but this was Dallas and Ezra wasn’t impressed.

“I heard you,” Ezra said.

“Ok. So how about it? Put that shit out.”

“No.”

“All right. You wanna be an asshole. Fine. Hey! Dave! Got a tough guy here! Pops here thinks he can smoke!”

A large, muscular guy came walking over and glared at Ezra. Ezra didn’t move from his stool.

“Is there a problem old man?” He asked.

“I don’t have a problem,” Ezra said, taking another drag.

“I’ll take that cigarette if you don’t mind.”

“I actually do mind. You can have it when I’m done though.”

The bouncer reached up as if to grab it, but before he could Ezra punched him in the center of the throat. The bouncer’s eyes went wide as he grabbed his throat, gagging and wheezing before stumbling to the ground. Ezra turned around to the bartender who was backing away from the bar and took another drink.

“You got something else to say, slick?”

“I’m going to call the cops.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Ezra warned. “You saw what I just did to him? I was being nice. You pick up that phone and I might not be so nice. I can crush your larynx and be halfway to Oklahoma City before the cops get here. There’s no cameras in this place, so good luck identifying me to them, especially if you can’t talk. Or you can let me finish my cigarette.”

The bartender thought for a second, and then turned around to straighten some bottles. Ezra had thought as much.

For being sixty-three years old, Ezra hadn’t lost a step. He’d dealt with much bigger and badder than a meathead bouncer in some shithole bar. He spent years as a Dallas cop before going into private security. During his time on the force, he’d come across every nasty scumbag you could imagine. Some of them were also wearing badges. He once had a guy twice this bouncer’s size shoving a gun in his face. Over the years he’d built a reputation for doing what needed to be done. Ezra is still alive, and that asshole isn’t. Despite his calm demeanor and blank facial expressions, Ezra’s mind was sharper than most and nothing went unnoticed around him. He could read almost anyone the instant they walked into a room and knew what they’d do in a confrontation before they did. From behind him, he heard a familiar voice.

“Still causing trouble, huh old friend?” The voice said. Ezra turned around to see Lawrence Freidman standing there. The man owned Freidman Foods and was Ezra’s former employer. It had been a long time, but they were still friends. Many years ago when Lawrence was a young entrepreneur, he’d had a short political career with a few terms as a state senator and four years in congress. Lawrence hired Ezra right out of the Dallas P.D. to work for him as his private security.

As the head of Lawrence’s private security detail, he made a lot of money. Though he also did a lot of questionable things. Some things were outright wrong, but he was being paid to do a job and he did it. Sometimes the job required stuffing a few old skeletons into the closet. Others he had to make some new skeletons in order to protect the old ones. Having the trust of a powerful man like Lawrence wasn’t something Ezra took lightly and he’d do anything to preserve it. He’d already sold his soul, what else was left?

“Hey Larry! Great to see you.” Ezra said as he stood and shook Lawrence’s hand.

“Glad you could make it old friend,” Lawrence said.

“I told you. Anytime, just call. You said this was urgent so I won’t waste your time. Whaddya got?”

“It’s Gordon. He’s dead.”

“What? Are you kidding me?” Ezra remembered when Gordon was just a toddler. He’d have to supervise the kids to and from school on some occasions. Gordon had been a good kid, but he’d gotten weird as he got older.

“No, he moved to Austin a few years ago. Took on this whole starving artist persona and called himself Graves. Fucking weird hipster shit. I told him to stay out of Austin. His family and everyone he knows is up here. But he said he wanted to start over or some shit. Anyway, my friends on the department down there said he was tortured and mutilated pretty badly. They think a girl did it and I have an idea who.”

“Why would a girl mutilate your son?”

“Ezra. They cut his fucking dick off! And his balls.”

Ezra nodded and waited for an answer to his question.

“As far as why, I don’t know. My friends say they found stuff belonging to some missing girls. They think he may have killed them.”

“You mean he was a serial killer?”

“No! Gordon wouldn’t hurt anyone. Yeah, he had a violent streak since he was a kid. I know you had to clean up a few of his messes.”

Ezra remembered having to pay off the family of a girl he’d raped in high school. He’d taken her to the parking lot during a school dance and when she told him no, he worked her over really well before raping her. The girls’ parents were all ready to press charges when Lawrence sent him to talk to them. He’d offered to pay the girl’s full four years tuition and expenses at any college of her choice. He also paid off the families debts and offered the girl a trust fund of $2 million upon her graduation from college. The girl was angry, but her parents agreed. All in all it was chump change to Lawrence, but kept his son out of trouble, but he couldn’t buy his way out of everything.

“Yeah,” Ezra said. “I remember.”

“So just crazy things like that. He’d never kill some girl and keep trophies. The cops down there are on crack.”

“So what do you need me to do?”

“This girl.” Lawrence pulled up a picture on his phone. “This girl is an attorney there in Austin. Her name is Bailey Hart. She was the last girl seen with him. She claims they were at his place and had a few drinks and she left. A few days later he’s found all cut up and stuffed in a trunk in his own closet.”

“So you think this girl killed him?”

“I think she had something to do with it, or knows someone who did. I want you to find out. Do whatever it takes.” Lawrence handed Ezra a thick envelope. Ezra looked and flipped through the cash. He’d count it later. For now, he tucked it into his jacket. “That will get you started. Expenses are included. If you need more just let me know and I’ll wire it immediately.”

“So you want me to find this lawyer named Bailey and question and torture her if I have to.”

“I don’t want to know what you do. I’m telling you do whatever it takes to find out what happened to my son. I refuse to believe she knows nothing. If she was involved, then pay her back for Gordon tenfold. You’ll do that?”

“Like you said, whatever it takes,” Ezra said as he finished off his drink.

Chapter 12

Bailey sat across from her brother playing with her food as he talked about nothing. She only saw Brian once a year, maybe every other year. Since their parents died, he got this idea of them having an annual dinner together. They took turns buying. This year was her turn. Every other year it had just been the two of them. This time though, he decided to bring his new girlfriend, Cassie.

Cassie was everything Bailey hated. She was pretty, had a perfect body and tits, was probably smarter than she acted and was a complete bitch.

“So you’re his older sister?” Cassie asked.

“Yep. By about two years.”

“Oh! How cute! And he’s already a partner at his law firm. One of the biggest in the country. What’s taking you so long?” Cassie said laughing loud enough people at the other tables were looking.

“Yeah, I guess we just have different goals.”

“Like what? You want to be an overpaid law clerk? I am so proud of Brian. In just a year he worked his way right on up!” She took another sip of her wine. She’s only gone through half the glass, but was apparently a lightweight. While Cassie and Brian made googley eyes at each other, Bailey couldn’t help wondering what her liver would taste like with that same wine.

Bailey hadn’t told her brother she was fired yet. There wasn’t really a need to, not like he depended on her for income and now she was really glad this bitch didn’t know, she’d have a field day. Though she wasn’t understanding the animosity. Brian was her brother, so there was no competition there. Though maybe Cassie was from hill country. No telling what they were into out there.

Bailey finished off her wine and asked for another. She hoped the evening would end soon, that or she would just numb herself until Cassie was nothing but noise.

“So what has been going on with you sis?” Brian asked. “I hardly hear from you anymore.”

“I know. Just been busy with work and stuff.”

“Still no boyfriend?”

“Nope. Just no time for guys.”

“That’s a shame,” Cassie piped in. “With that glowing personality.”

“What is your problem with me?”

“Hey, Bailey. Take it easy. Cassie’s just nervous.” Brian said.

“No she isn’t. She’s had a problem with me all night. What is your problem?”

“Problem?” Cassie said, looking around feigning confusion. “I don’t have a problem. I just speak my mind. You seem to be the one with the problem.”

“Look guys,” Brian said. “Can we just enjoy dinner? Take is easy Cass. I don’t get to see my sister often.”

Then why did you fucking bring her? Bailey wanted to ask that, but it would just upset things even further. Though she had a feeling she was losing her brother. He was all grown up now and doing great on his own. Not that he ever needed her before, but he needs her even less now. If anything, it felt as if it were a chore for him to come and see her and no girlfriend is going to want to sit through it.

Bailey noticed Cassie was looking down, so she sat up and took another drink. She was going to need a lot more wine before the night was over. Though the rest of the evening went pretty smoothly. They made meaningless small talk for the next hour and Cassie managed not to say anything to offensive. Finally, Bailey paid the check as they headed out.

Once outside, Bailey hugged her brother and nodded to Cassie who turned away. Bailey walked back to her Tahoe when she thought she felt someone watching her. She turned around and checked the street but didn’t see anyone. There was one car sitting in the dark a few cars down. The engine was running and she thought she could see someone inside, but it was too dark. She shook it off and climbed into the Tahoe and headed home.

Once back in her house, she realized it was only 9 pm. Way too early to go to bed, yet she felt tired and annoyed. She flipped on the TV and plopped onto the couch when there was a knock at the door.

“What the fuck?” She said as she stood and went to the door. Standing outside was an old man about her height. He was bald with a white beard.

“Bailey Hart?” He asked.

“Yes?”

“I need to talk to you.”

This was becoming an all too regular occurrence.

“You a cop or something? I already talked to Detective Schmidt.”

“I’m not a cop. I’m a friend of the family of Gordon ‘Graves’ Freidman.”

“Yeah. I talked to the cops about that. You can talk to them.” She said as she began closing the door. He put his hand out and stopped it cold. For an older guy, he was pretty strong. He pushed it partway open.

“Look. I just need five minutes. I’ve known him since he was a kid. His dad asked me to look into it.”

“Ok. He’s not believe the cops or something?” She stepped aside and let him in. She wasn’t liking him or this whole thing, but he obviously wasn’t going to just go away.

“My name is Ezra Tanner, as I said I’m a friend to Gordon’s father. So according to the police, you said Gordon and you had some drinks and he passed out?”

“That’s right.”

“What did you have to drink?”

“Excuse me?” She asked.

“I’ll say it slower. What. Did. You. Have. To. Drink.”

“I don’t see why that matters.”

“Oh it matters quite a bit, Bailey. You see you told the cops you two had drinks. You just told me as much. I’m asking you what you drank. So what was it?”

Shit. She had to make something up.

“Beer. Not sure what kind. He had some in his fridge.”

“Wrong. Gordon didn’t drink beer. There was none in his fridge because he despised it. He drank liquor. Usually Vodka, the most expensive shit he could find. Never beer.”

“Well he did this time,” she said trying to assert herself. He wasn’t buying.

“I doubt it. So you want to tell me what really happened that night? Right now, it’s just between you and me. I could go to the cops with this. I doubt you’ll want that.”

“Did the cops also tell you he was a serial killer? Fucker was going to kill me if I didn’t leave when I did.”

“Yeah, they mentioned that. His dad thinks its bullshit.”

“Of course he does,” she said. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s possible. The kid was rich and fucking weird. Had this whole American Psycho thing going on. I don’t know about serial killer though. That’s not what I’m here about. So what really happened?”

“I just told you,” she said firmly while crossing her arms to emphasize how serious she was.

“So you’re sticking with that huh?”

“I guess so.”

“Well. All right then. Thank you for your time.” He put out his hand and she took it for a quick shake. Instead he tightened his grip and pulled her forward as he stuck a needle into her arm with his other hand. Shit! That was stupid.

“What the fuck?” She yelled, grabbing her arm and stumbling back.

“It’s just a sedative,” Ezra said. “When it wears off, you’ll wake up. Then we’ll talk.” That was the last thing she heard before everything went black.

Chapter 13

Bailey woke up once again strapped to a table. Though this was more of a wooden slab propped up at an angle. She was bound all the way around her body with thick leather straps, at least that was what it felt like. There was a bag over her head. The air inside the bag was thick, as she coughed and tried to see whatever she could through the cloth, but it was too thick.

This was the second time in the past week she’d been drugged and then tied to something. She needed to work on her awareness of those around her. After taking a few breaths, the bag was lifted off her head to reveal Ezra standing in front of her.

“Hello Bailey,” he said.

“What the fuck is going on?” Looking around she was in a large room with a concrete floor with a single florescent light just overhead. Ezra was standing there with the same cold expression he’d had at her place. She had a bad feeling about him from the start. It was fucking stupid of her to let him in her house. What was she thinking?

“I’m going to try this again. I tried being nice before, but that didn’t work out so well. So now we’re going to do it my way.”

“Try what? I told you what happened already.”

“Yes, but there’s one problem. You are completely full of shit.”

He put the bag back over her head and tilted the slab backward as if she were on a teeter totter. Now her body was almost upside down. As the blood rushed to her head, suddenly she was drowning. Water rushed into her mouth and nose. It burned something awful as it went through her nostrils and into her lungs. At the same time her mouth filling up, causing her to gag.

Just when she thought she was about to pass out, the board flipped her back up. The hood came off as Bailey coughed and hacked as water shot out of her mouth and nose. Air finally filled her lungs. Sweet, dry air she thought she’d never breathe again just seconds ago.

“Ok Bailey. What happened that night?”

“Fuck you,” she said as the hood went back over her face. Back again the board went as water flooded her face once more. This time she was ready and tried to hold her breath, but it was too cold and hit with too much force. This time it lasted even longer before she sat back up. A huge part of her just wanted to tell him the truth, but he’d probably kill her anyway. Besides, fuck him.

“You done being a smart ass? All you got to do is tell me the truth kid and it all stops.”

“Suck my dick,” Bailey said. Ezra shook his head as he threw the bag over her once again and back she went. Finally he brought her back up as she gagged and coughed up more water.

“You know Bailey. You’re a really pretty girl,” he said as he held a knife to the side of her face. “I have no problem changing that. We could do it a lot of ways. I could make some big ugly scars along your face. Or I could get more drastic and cut your fucking nose off, or your ear. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like shit.”

“I thought you’d say that.”

She really didn’t want him cutting on her face. It wasn’t just the pain she feared but it was how she blended in to society. If her face were deformed, she’d never get another job, and she would always stand out anywhere she went. She needed to take some measures.

“Ok,” she said. “Ok. I’ll tell you.”

“It’s about damn time. So let’s hear it.”

She went on to explain meeting him in the bar, modeling for him at his apartment, his drugging her, the Wendigo mask and all his bizarre paintings. The whole time Ezra just stood there blank as she spoke.

“So that’s it.”

“Ok.”

“Well? You wanted to know. That’s what fucking happened.”

“And you just happened to get away from this guy who had you tied up and over power him, a guy much bigger than you, and cut him up like that?” He asked.

“I told you how it happened. The guy was cocky as hell. Not my fault he got sloppy, but it’s true!”

“So you had no help at all? No one?”

“No. No one else was there. I spent all night cleaning that place up. It was a mess.”

“All right then,” he shrugged as he walked behind the plank.

“So? You gonna let me go?”

“Kinda.”

“Kinda? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You said if I told you.”

‘I said I’d stop waterboarding you and I wouldn’t cut up your face. And I did.” He pushed something up against the plank and leaned her back. She was on a dolly.

“So what the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m delivering you.”

“Delivering me? For what?”

“Gordon’s dad would like to have a word with you. In person.”

He wheeled her to the back of a black van that had no windows. He opened the back doors and put the hood back over her face. Ezra lay her back flat and slid the plank with her strapped to it inside the van.

“It’s going to be a long ride,” he said. “Sorry for the discomfort. If you have to go to the bathroom, just piss or shit yourself since I can’t make any stops for obvious reasons. No food on the way either, so I hope you ate dinner.”

“I’m going to kill you both,” she said through the hood.

“I kind of doubt that. Talk to you in a few hours,” he said as he slammed the doors. As she lie there in the dark, the van started up. Any fear she may have been feeling had left her. All she could think about was cutting that stupid look off Ezra’s face and fucking up Graves’ dad. It was time for her to step up her game.

Chapter 14

The drive was indeed several hours. Bailey had no idea how much time had actually passed. She often drifted in and out of consciousness, her resolve never changing. In her dreams, she was the Wendigo stalking her new victims, Ezra and Graves’ dad, whoever that was. When she broke free, she planned on causing them suffering unlike any human has ever known. The mere thought brought her a smile beneath the hood.

Whoever this guy was, he must have had some money and reach. For him to figure out who she was and where to find her, someone from the cops had given her info out. She wondered if it was Schmidt. If it was, she’d have to kill him too. Cop or no cop, she didn’t give too many fucks at this point. Despite her dire situation, she refused to believe she was about to die. She was the Lady Wendigo. No old man or stupid rich guy was going to kill her so easily.

Finally the van came to a stop and the engine shut off. She heard the doors swing open and Ezra begin coughing.

“Holy shit. You did let one go didn’t you?” He said. She’d had to piss herself a couple of times on the trip. Thankfully she didn’t have to shit, either way, the smell must have been strong enough. Too bad he wouldn’t choke from it. He pulled the plank out of the fan, propping her up back onto a dolly and began wheeling her into somewhere.

The hood was removed and there was Ezra again with another man in a suit standing there.

“So this is her? The guy in the suit said. He looked like a smug asshole. His hair was gray and feathered. Apparently he didn’t get the memo the 80’s was over. He had this smirk on his face that made her want to cut it off and feed his own lips to him. “She doesn’t’ look that impressive,” the guy said.

“She’s tougher than she looks,” Ezra said. “I’m pretty sure of it.”

“Well she’s not so tough now.” The guy walked over to her and stuck his face inches from hers. “Do you know who I am? I’m Lawrence Freidman. I own Freidman Foods. I also have more money than God. I can do the most unspeakable things to you and make you disappear. No one will ever know, and I’ll pay them to stop looking. It will be as if you never existed. Except you are going to feel pain like you never thought possible in the meantime.”

Bailey met his stare. She wasn’t impressed. It was obvious he’d rehearsed this speech dozens of times on her way here. This guy wasn’t like her. He was just an angry father who had lost his fucked up son. Not that he wouldn’t try to hurt her. She was sure he would. He would just be more skittish about it, and she planned on using that. For the time being she spit in his face. Nailing him perfectly between the eyes. He yelled as he stepped back, wiping his face.

“I told you she’s a feisty one,” Ezra said.

“Yeah. I see that. It’s ok. We’ll get that out of her. She’ll be crying and begging for her life when I’m done with her. Take her in back and get her ready.”

Ezra nodded as he wheeled her into a back room. This one was empty except for a large table. He lifted her onto the table and lay her flat, keeping her on the plank. He opened a duffel bag he was carrying and put on an apron and face shield. For the next several minutes he set up a variety of tools, not unlike the things she put together for her storage unit. She was beginning to wonder just how common this sort of thing was.

The door swung open and Lawrence came strutting into the room. He was also wearing an apron, rubber gloves and a face shield. He stood there looking down at Bailey, smiling.

“So you thought you could just hurt my son and there would be no consequences? I mean, yes he was a mixed up boy. He had problems. But he was no serial killer. And the part about you overpowering him? That’s just a load of bullshit. I think you’re the one who drugged him. I think you were targeting him for whatever sick shit you have going on. Don’t worry though. You might learn a thing or two from me.” He was fumbling through the tools as he spoke.

“I highly doubt that,” Bailey said.

“Trust me. I’ve been studying for our little encounter. I’ve watched Hostel and all of the Saw movies. I’m more than prepared for what I am about to do to you.”

Bailey immediately burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Lawrence asked. “What the fuck are you laughing at?” He looked over to Ezra who was just standing in the corner. “Ezra, what is she laughing at?”

“I think she doesn’t take you seriously. I also think she doesn’t like the Saw or Hostel films.”

“Well, she’s about to figure out what I learned.” He grabbed an icepick and walked over to her feet. Grabbing her big toe, he slid the tip of the icepick under her toenail. It hurt like hell and she did everything she could not to scream, but it was hard. She didn’t want to give the asshole the satisfaction of her pain. After a few seconds though it became too much as she let out a shrill scream.

“Oh yeah. There we go. Let it out little girl,” Lawrence said as he jammed the ice pick under another toenail eliciting a new set of screams. He went along each toe, sometimes wiggling the ice pick to make her writhe even more. With each toe, it felt as if fire were shooting through her feet, all up her legs and into her brain. At one point she feared she may pass out. She wanted to stay conscious and feel everything. That way she’d know just how much pain to pay back.

Chapter 15

After several hours, Lawrence had nearly torn her nipples off with a pliers, he’d raped her with the handled to a hammer and had cut her all along her legs and stomach. As much as all of these things hurt and even violated her, none of it was permanent damage. She wasn’t sure if he was building up for some big finish, or if he just didn’t have the stomach to follow through. At some point he would be handing things over to Ezra to finish up.

She suspected the answer to her question was the latter. Through the entire encounter Lawrence seemed nervous and awkward. It was unlikely he’d ever used a hammer for its actual use in his life, let alone to rape someone with it. Though as they went along, things got progressively worse. He was definitely warming up. When he started up the skill saw, she knew she was in trouble.

He’d plugged it in just above his work bench as it whirred to life. The saw screamed as he walked closer to her with it.

“You ready for your makeover bitch?” He yelled as he jerked it in her direction, taunting her with it. She turned her head to the side, not wanting to see what he was about to do. The other shit hurt like hell and she no doubt screamed plenty, but this would fuck her up for good if not kill her. She struggled once again against the straps, but it was pointless. They were just too tight.

Finally he committed and lunged at her, but the cord wasn’t long enough. He stumbled as the saw jerked out of his hand and swung downward hitting her in the side. She heard the blade squeal as it cut into her skin for a second before falling to the ground. As she tried to pull away, her arm came free. The saw had cut the straps.

She pulled her arm out and ripped the rest of the straps away, kicking her feet free as she climbed off the table. Lawrence wasn’t sure what to think as she punched him in the face, knocking him onto his workbench. Ezra came running up behind her. She knew not to tangle with him and dove under the table, slid through the legs and bolted for the door. It was unlocked as she headed into a hallway and raced to the exit.

She burst through the exit door to find herself in a parking lot. Just ahead was a highway. Looking at the buildings she knew she was in Dallas somewhere. Wearing only a ripped up tank top, she ran from the parking lot and to the road leading to the highway. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Ezra climbing into a van and the engine starting. Shit! She had to get somewhere fast.

Another car came down the road just as she turned the corner. It was headed toward the highway. She jumped up and down, screaming. The car pulled over and an old woman leaned out the window.

“Are you ok dear?” She asked.

“No! That man in that van is after me! Please help me!”

“Get in.”

Bailey got in the passenger’s seat as the women stepped on the gas. The car was an old Buick Skylark, but it still had pick up as the tired squealed. Within a minute they were on the highway and Ezra’s van was nowhere in sight.

“Oh my God,” Bailey said. “Thank you.”

“No problem sweetie. This car’s got some balls!”

She laughed as the old woman looked her over.

“My goodness! What did they do to you?” The woman asked.

“Long story. The guy was trying to kill me. He thinks I killed his son.”

“Did you?”

“Hell no,” Bailey liked. “I don’t even know those people. They’re fucking crazy.”

“Well, I’ll take you to a hospital. They’ll get you nice and cleaned up.”

She didn’t want to go. Bad idea.

“That’s ok. I’m from Austin. I need to get back there as soon as I can.”

“You’re all bleeding and barely have any clothes. You really need to see a doctor.”

“Lady, I appreciate your help. I really do. But I hate hospitals. I really can’t go there.”

“Don’t you worry. The folks at Dallas General are great and will take good care of you.” The woman said.

Bailey rolled her eyes. This was a nice old lady and she really didn’t want to kill her, but it was looking like she might have to.

“I’m going to stop and get something to eat her at this gas station up ahead. I’ll get you some water.” The woman said as she pulled in. As she went inside, Bailey looked around the backseat and felt around. There was an old shoe lying back there. She grabbed the show and ripped out the shoe lace, wrapping her fingers around the ends. She held her hands in her lap until the old woman returned carrying a bag. She handed the bag to Bailey as she climbed in.

When she turned around to close the door, Bailey wrapped the shoelace around the woman’s neck and squeezed. The woman’s hands went up and clawed at Bailey’s wrists, but had no effect as the rest of her body twitched and flopped. All the while the woman’s mouth drooped open as she made a wheezing and gasping sound, but no air was getting through. After a couple minutes it was over.

The old woman lie motionless in the driver’s seat as Bailey removed the shoe lace and tossed it into the back seat. She flipped the driver’s seat back and rolled the woman into the back seat, flipped the seat back up and slid over. When she got to a less crowded area, she’d dump the body. For now, she had to get home and start planning. This wasn’t about revenge against Lawrence Freidman. She knew he had infinite resources to keep after her. There was only way to make him stop, and she planned on doing just that.

Chapter 16

It took just over three hours to get back to Austin. By the time she made it back, it was almost 3 am. She had pulled off the highway to a side road and dumped the old woman’s body in a ditch. Later she ditched the car in a field and stole another one for the rest of the trip. She parked the stolen car downtown and took a cab home. She had to break in her back window, to get inside; once there she got cash from her house to pay the driver, and immediately got in the shower.

This was the last fucking time someone would get her by surprise like that. It has happened twice in one week and it was two too many. She was the Lady fucking Wendigo dammit. No one hurt her like this. She was the killer, the bringer of death. Hell, she ate their fucking souls. Well if their souls are inside their skin and organs, she sure as hell ate them.

Whatever, she closed her eyes as the hot water poured over her naked body. It stung as it hit her many wounds and abrasions. All she could think about was making those assholes pay. Realistically, it should have been unsettling to her how well she’d taken to killing. She took out that old woman without a second’s hesitation, but she’d had no choice. The old bat was going to take her to a hospital, which meant police reports and cops. That was the last thing she needed.

Upon thinking about it, she couldn’t even stay here. They’d come looking for here again and her home was the first place they’d look. Bailey turned off the shower and toweled off as she put on clean clothes and packed a suitcase, or four. Once she had everything, she loaded up the Tahoe and headed to San Antonio where she found a nice hotel on the Riverwalk. It was expensive, but was big and had a parking garage so they wouldn’t just see her car sitting there.

She rested on the hotel bed and dug out her laptop. Immediately she began searching for Freidman Foods and Lawrence Freidman. As much as he pissed her off, she had to admit it was almost cute watching him try to play serial killer. It was obvious his son inherited his lack of empathy and the antisocial personality disorder or psychopathy/sociopathy. While they were each different they all had similarities. She leaned toward pure psychopathic. She’d self-diagnosed herself long ago. Though she was sure Lawrence had a good mix of narcissism anti-social and some other goodies mixed in.

It would seem Lawrence’s own disorder manifested itself in different ways. In older photos she saw he’d been a politician as well as a businessman. A younger version of Ezra was in several of the photos as his private security. The guy had a full head of hair back then, but still the same dead look on his face. Through the years, she had no doubt that Lawrence had left more than a few bodies in his wake, yet he normally didn’t get his hands dirty. That’s what Ezra was for.

Since Graves grew up with a dad who was cold and distant, he probably never learned empathy or bonded with others. One article said his mom died when he was a kid, so he was pretty much on his own. The kids was just a hollow shell of a person. No wonder he was so fucked up. Realizing this almost made her feel bad. What was her excuse? There wasn’t one, she was just broken. She did some more digging on Ezra, found a last known address in Dallas. Also found out he had a grandson living not too far from his own house about two miles away. She would use that for sure. That motherfucker wants to fuck with her? He was about to learn real pain.

She closed the laptop and headed to the bed. As she lie down she felt as if despite everything she’d just been through, things were looking up. Those assholes thought they were going to snuff her out like some two bit street whore and stuff her in a trunk? They had no idea what they’d just stepped in, much like Graves didn’t that night he drugged her.

That had been the story of her life. People underestimating her at every turn. It used to piss her off to no end, but over time she’d learned to use it to her advantage. Her looks were misleading. Everyone wrote her off as the hot girl with nice tits. While she was those things, she was so much more. By her teens she had realized she was smarter than most people her age and even a good chunk of the adults around her.

It never took her long to figure out what made a person tick, what drove them and then for her to use it to her advantage. In a short amount of time she had people around her, men and women, but especially men, eating out of the palm of her hand. She wondered if Graves had the same ability. He’d had some charm that was for sure. The thoughts continued to drift around her mind and before long they turned into dreams. Dreams of Ezra and Lawrence strapped to a table, covered in blood. All while the Lady Wendigo stood over them laughing as she ate their bodies’ one chunk at a time.

Chapter 17

She was amazed at how refreshed she felt when she woke up. Upon looking at her clock she’d slept for almost fourteen hours. It was nice staying at the hotel. No annoying knocks on her door. She dug her phone out of her bag and saw she missed at least a dozen calls from her brother. What was his deal? There were a few more missed calls from Detective Schmidt. She had no desire to speak to him, but she called her brother right away.

“Hey!” He said when he answered. “Where are you?”

“I’m fine. What’s wrong?”

“The cops were looking for you. Some Schmidt guy said he needed to talk to you about a dead co-worker. Then you weren’t home and your door was left open. I locked it with the spare key you left me, but your car was still there so we all thought something was wrong.”

“I had a situation, but I’m ok.”

“Are you sure? Where are you now? I was just at your house.”

“I’m fine. I got some things I need to take care of. Ok? Can you trust me?”

“Yeah. You’re usually so consistent. That and you don’t have anyone to look after you.”

In brother speak, he meant a boyfriend or husband.

“Yes I know. I’m a big girl Brian.” In the background, someone began yelling at him. Cassie. She could hear them argue.

“Who are you talking to?” Cassie asked in the background.

“It’s my sister. I’m making sure she’s ok.”

“Oh she finally decided to call you back? I swear, why do you even worry about her? She doesn’t give a shit about you.”

“Because, she’s my sister. She’s family and I love her.”

“I’m family! You love me! Ugh!” She yelled as Brian got back on the phone. There was no way Bailey could co-exist in a universe where Brian remained her brother and that witch cunt stayed by his side. She might just kill her for the fun of it.

“You in trouble?” Bailey asked.

“No. She’ll get over it,” Brian said.

“Ok, anyway. I have some stuff to do in the next few days. So, if you try to reach me you might not be able to. But, I don’t want you to freak out. Ok?”

“All right. Love you sis.”

“Love you too.” She said as she hung up. Brian was much more caring than she had ever been. Maybe it’s because he grew up mostly with their aunt and uncle. After dad committed suicide, he was way more shaken up than she was. He couldn’t stand even being in the same house. So, her mom’s brother took him in for several years. She was fine with it. Her mom could barely handle her all alone. She often seemed angry about dad killing himself but she never understood why.

The guy would beat the shit out of her mom almost daily. Seemed he was either sober and ignoring her, or drunk and hitting her. Odd thing was he never laid a hand on Bailey. Most the time he just pretended she didn’t exist. He wanted a boy, so when Brian was born, he got all the attention. However, Brian had been his only hope to re-live high school as a football star. Her dad had been an all-state quarterback many years and about one hundred-fifty pounds ago.

Before he died, he was just a loud, drunk, and fat slob. Brian had no interest in sports. He was always into comics and playing with insects. Fortunately, her dad never roughed him up too much. He just called him a pussy or a faggot. The real rage was directed at mom. Bailey always thought it was because he felt like she was holding him back. From what, no one had a fucking clue; the guy had already flunked out of college and could barely keep a job when she met him. He apparently felt he still had some shot at a pro football career if it hadn’t been for her getting knocked up.

One day when she was thirteen, he had given mom one of the most epic beatings of her lifetime; the woman laid on the kitchen floor broken and bleeding. He’d gone up to the bedroom and downed a whole bottle of Jack Daniels in one sitting. It had been his third bottle that day. When Bailey went into the room, he was sitting in his chair looking out the window. She asked him if he was ok and he replied with slurred gibberish.

Seeing her chance, Bailey opened the nightstand and took out the .357 he’d kept there for “protection.” Even though they didn’t own shit, so no idea why anyone would want to break in. She took the revolver, checked the chamber to see it was loaded with six rounds. As she came up behind him, he tried to turn, but was too fat and drunk to make it all the way around. He swatted at her with a half assed swing, but she grabbed the flailing right hand and wrapped his big sausage fingers around the gun, pressed it to his head and used his own forefinger to pull the trigger.

The gun went off with loud bang as it jerked right out of his hand and fell to the floor. She jumped away as blood sprayed her face and hands. He laid slumped halfway out of his chair, his head now blown in half with a huge hole on the left side. Bailey ran to the phone on the nightstand and called 911.

“Hello? My dad just beat up my mom really bad and then he killed himself,” she sobbed into the phone. She hung up and ran back to her dad’s body. When police found her, she was standing there cradling his head and crying. To them, she was a distraught teenage girl recoiling over finding her dad had just shot himself. What she was really doing was giving herself a reason for her fingerprints to be on her dad’s body and to be covered in his blood.

Besides that, she had a mostly good childhood. Things were great from there on out. As she walked out to the parking garage, she thought of how far she’d come along since those days. She looked at her note pad as she situated herself in Tahoe; the list of names and addresses plainly written. While she wasn’t looking forward to the drive back to Dallas, she was looking forward to what awaited her there.

Chapter 18

First she needed to make a quick stop at her house. She wanted to pick up a few more things before the long drive. Her only hope was the police or someone else wasn’t sitting outside. As she approached, there was no strange cars or anyone around, so in she went. She grabbed a bag from the closet and went to her fridge, grabbing some snacks and bottled water to help her minimize any stops along the way.

Once she had enough, Bailey headed to the door when someone came walking in. Cassie.

“You and me need to have a few words,” Cassie said.

“No we don’t. I have to go.”

“The hell you do. I am really sick of you trying to turn Brian against me! He is his own man now. A grown man! He doesn’t need his crazy possessive sister leading him around by the dick or whatever sick fantasies that bounce around in that twisted head of yours!” Cassie shouted. All Bailey could think was what fucking drugs was this psycho on. Leading her brother around by the dick? What the fuck was wrong with this girl?

“Ok, right. I’ll stop, now I have to go.” Bailey said as she tried to walk around Cassie. Cassie grabbed her and shoved her backward.

“Don’t you walk away from me! I’m talking to you!”

Bailey set her bags down.

“Look, Cassie. I get it, you love Brian, you’re into him or whatever. Great. I’ve got some serious shit to take care of right now and don’t have time to take part in your little sideshow. Ok? Now, let me by, and don’t fucking touch me again. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? Hurt me?” Cassie laughed. “Bitch, I did roller derby in college. I will fuck your pretty little face up!”

“Roller derby? You fucking serious?”

“Try me bitch!” Cassie screamed as she stepped into Bailey’s face. She didn’t see Cassie swing until it was too late. Her fist caught Bailey on the side of the head. She moved just in time, but the blow still caught her enough to sting. That was it. This bitch was going to die.

Bailey lunged at Cassie, knocking her into a coffee table as the girls flipped over it, onto the ground. Bailey rained down blows on the back of Cassie’s head as she tried crawling away. Bailey got to her feat, grabbing a handful of Cassie’s hair as she did so. Dragging her across the floor, Cassie dug her nails into Bailey’s wrists until blood oozed from them. It hurt enough to cause Bailey to loosen her grip.

Cassie jumped to her feet, ran up and kicked Bailey square in he vagina. Bailey had heard that referred to as a “cunt punt,” but had never previously experienced one. It was not pleasant. Her hands went to her crotch as she dropped to one knee. Cassie’s kick had landed hard and with precision aim. As she tried to get her breath, Cassie lunged for her this time, clotheslining her and sending her flat on her back. Bailey’s head bounced off the wooden floor, causing her to see stars as Cassie dug her nails into Bailey’s face and raked them along her cheeks.

Bailey felt blood running down her face as the pain snapped her alertness back. She put her hands up, grabbed one of Cassie’s hoop earrings, and ripped it out with one swift yank. Blood and a chunks of her ear hit the floor along with the discarded earring.

Cassie grabbed her bloody ear and screamed as Bailey seized the moment to punch her square in the nose. Cassie fell backwards as Bailey blasted her again, as she attempted to get her feet. From there she kicked Cassie repeatedly in the nose and stomach until the girl was lying there crying and wheezing. Certain she was down for the count; Bailey went to one of her bags and took out a roll of duct table. This little cunt had pushed her too far, and she was going to finish it for good.

She taped up Cassie’s hands and feet, lying her across the floor. Once she was secure, she went to the kitchen to grab a few knives. When she got back, Cassie was starting to realize what was happening.

“What is going on? What are you doing?”

“I’m going to cut you up and kill you, you crazy bitch,” Bailey said.

“What? Why? No! You can’t do this! You’re not some killer!”

“You have no idea.”

Bailey grabbed the butcher knife and held it over Cassie’s face, letting her take in the shine of the blade. She grabbed a wad of Cassie’s hair that hung in her face, which brought out her worst scream yet.

“No! Not my hair! Please don’t hurt my hair!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Bailey asked as she stretched out her hair and began cutting through it with the knife. She was going to gouge her eye out with it, but now wanted to cut her hair off just to piss her off. As she sliced through Cassie’s luscious brown locks, Cassie squealed the most inhuman sound Bailey had ever heard. Even the men she’d eaten alive didn’t shriek like this. She cut off several huge strands until Cassie’s head looked like it had mange.

“I’m gonna fuck you up, you sniveling little cunt!” Cassie screamed. Her eyes were wide and it was obvious that at some point in this altercation, she had gone completely mad, though she didn’t have that far to go.

Bailey didn’t waste her breath replying to Cassie as she began cutting her shirt open, exposing her bra. As she cut the bra off, her chest revealed her golf ball sized breasts. Bailey looked inside the bra to see several inches of padding.

“Ha! You had Styrofoam tits all along!” Bailey yelled. “What does Brian think about your twelve year old boy chest?”

“Fuck you!” Cassie screamed as Bailey grabbed one of her tiny titties and sliced it clean off, yet she basically just cut off the nipple. She did the same to the other, causing Cassie to scream yet again.

“Hell of a titty twister huh?”

Bailey tossed the severed nipples aside as they stuck to the floor. They looked like little pepperonis. Unable to resist the urge, Bailey picked one of the nipples up and put it in her mouth. She chewed several times before making a face and spitting it out.

“Bitch, you even taste like shit!” She yelled. Another idea hit her. She got up and ran to the bedroom. Digging through her drawer, she found her dildos. She had a few, one was a strap on she got as a gag gift years ago. She kept it for some reason, but now it might come in handy. She took it into the living room and knelt down next to Cassie. She picked up one of the knives and wrapped duct tape around the handle, securing it to the dildo. She did the same with a second, smaller knife as she took off her jeans and slid the strap on around her waist, securing it.

“All right bitch. You ready to get fucked?”

Cassie just screamed as Bailey pulled off her shorts and panties, rolled her onto her stomach and entered her vagina from behind. Cassie finally screamed worse than the hair event. Cassie’s screams turned to grunts and yelps as Bailey shredded her pussy to ribbons. After several minutes, she stopped and looked down. Her crotch and the dildo was covered in Cassie’s blood. Cassie’s lady parts were now nothing but shredded chunks of bloody flesh.

She had stopped screaming a while ago though. Bailey slapped her across the face a few times, but she was fading fast. Either due to shock or blood loss. Maybe both. She grabbed the butcher knife and turned Cassie’s head to the side and began cutting. Blood gushed from her severed jugular vein as Cassie let out a final groan before going silent for good.

It took a lot of cutting to get her head off. Bailey had to switch hands and massage her forearm to relieve the cramps. Finally, she got her head off and held it up, staring at Cassie’s lifeless eyes. She took the head and lowered it to her waist and began fucking the stump of the head with the dildo. She could hear the flesh and bone scraping and tearing as the blades went in and out.

She thrust harder and harder, rotating the head on the dildo and moving it up and down. Eventually, Cassie’s eyeballs popped out of the head and dangled just below the eye sockets. Bailey tossed the head to the side and laughed as she looked around her house; the place was wrecked. Furniture was knocked over or utterly destroyed and there was blood everywhere. Looking down at herself, Bailey was covered in Cassie’s blood. She wasn’t going to waste her time cleaning up. She needed to get to Dallas. It was time to set the place on fire.

Chapter 19

Bailey was on the highway by the time her home exploded. As she left the place, she had set a small fire in the bedroom while leaving the gas on the stove. She had poured gasoline around the house and put Cassie’s body next to the stove in the kitchen. She kept the head, but tossed that into the river as she drove over the bridge. She had wrapped it in several plastic grocery bags weighed down with some rocks.

Her hope was authorities would mistake Cassie’s headless and burned body for her own. If everyone thought she was dead, they couldn’t be out looking for her. After she was done in Dallas, well she hadn’t thought that far ahead. She even loaded her stuff up and took Cassie’s Honda CRV. Not near the room of the Tahoe, but leaving her car behind will help maintain her deception.

Several hours later, she was back in Dallas. It was well into the afternoon. Just in time for her to swing by the elementary school. As she parked across the street, she pulled out the papers she had printed. Ezra’s daughter had a Facebook page. On that page she posted pictures of her only son, seven year old Kyle. Bailey watched as the first graders were all lining up outside waiting for some parents to pick them up. She couldn’t just walk up and grab him. She had to be more careful.

She saw a young woman walking up as little Kyle ran over to her. She hugged the young boy as they got into their car and drove off. Bailey followed. Once they were a few blocks away, she pulled up next to them at a stop sign, on their passenger side. She stopped and jumped out of the CRV. This would have to be quick. No hesitation and no mistakes.

Bailey unclipped the small window breaking tool from her keychain and walked toward the car on the rear passenger side. She pressed it as hard as she could in the center of the window until it exploded, showering glass into the car. The woman and little boy screamed as she unlocked the door and pulled it open. In the same motion she used the seatbelt cutter to cut him free and jerked him from the backseat and placed him in the CRV.

Quickly, she hopped into the driver’s seat and took off, turning to her right. The boy’s mother was grabbing onto the door handle, screaming and banging on the window until she could no longer keep up. Once the woman was out of sight, Bailey took a series of turns until she was on the freeway. The little boy was crying in the backseat.

“It’s ok Kyle. I’m a friend of your grandpa. Grandpa Ezra?”

“Papa?”

“Yes. Papa. We’re going to go see him.”

“Why did you break my mom’s car?”

“It’s supposed to be a surprise. I’m going to call him right now.”

She took out her phone and called the number for his security company, which as far as she could tell was just him. Sure enough he answered on the third ring.

“Hello Ezra. Remember me?”

“Bailey,” he said.

“Yep. You still looking for me?”

“Possibly.”

“Well, before you look any further, someone wants to talk to you.” She reached back and handed the phone to the boy.

“Papa!” The boy said into the phone. “Yeah, I’m ok. Your friend broke mommy’s window on the car. But she said I can see you later.”

Bailey reached back and grabbed the phone.

“You hear that Papa?”

“What the fuck have you done?” For once the steely coldness was gone from his voice and replaced with pure rage and she was fairly certain, some fear as well.

“Me and little Kyle are just on a drive. If you’d like to see him again in one piece, you’ll meet me. I’ll text you the directions.”

“If you touch a hair on his head bitch, I swear to you…”

“I don’t think you’re in the position to be making any threats, Papa. Might want to dial the hostility down just a bit. Be there at eight o’clock and bring Lawrence. Or you start getting small packages in the mail.”

She hung up and texted the address, which was an old industrial park she’d found in her Google searches. That was her next stop. There was an old meat packing plant in the park, it had been owned by Friedman Foods, but shut down years ago to move to a larger place. She went ahead and duct taped little Kyle up and sat him inside the plant while she set up.

Tears ran down his face as he watched her setting up the tables. As she went through her bags, she realized there was no Wendigo mask. She’d left it in the storage unit. Fuck. How was she supposed to do this without the Wendigo? So far, it had been a symbol of her strength; no way she could go back and get it. Then again, she took care of Cassie without it. She was totally brutal with Cassie and completely on her own. Maybe she no longer needed the Wendigo. She had evolved. The Wendigo was now inside her. She was the embodiment of the Wendigo.

Once it all was set up, she checked her phone; they’d be there in fifteen minutes. She guess she should have been nervous, but quite the opposite, she felt exhilarated. About forty-eight hours ago, Lawrence had her tied up and was torturing the fuck out of her. Well, he was trying to anyway.

Now she has completely turned the tables on them. Once again, they under estimated her. Now they will pay dearly. She looked outside as headlights lit up the parking lot. A pickup truck was pulling in. Looking at her phone she saw they were right on schedule. It was show time.

Chapter 20

Bailey stood holding Kyle in front of her as Ezra and Lawrence pulled up. Lawrence wasn’t looking nearly as smug as the last time she’d seen him. He looked really concerned over Kyle. Good. Ezra looked as if he’d set her on fire with his mind if he could. They stood in front of the building glaring at her.

“Well,” Ezra said. “Here we are. Let him go.”

“Not so fast. Take your boss inside, and strap him to one of the tables,” Bailey said. Lawrence’s face turned pale as her eyes darted about the parking lot. This is why she picked this area. It was open enough she’d see if they brought someone else.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? I’m not doing that,” Ezra said as he drew a gun. She held Kyle up directly in front of her, with the knife pressed to his throat.

“I will cut his fucking head clean off. Throw the gun on the ground. Now!” She ordered.

“Kill him and you’re fucking dead.”

“So sure are you? I won’t just kill your precious grandson. I will gut him like a fucking pig right in front of you and bathe in his insides before you can shoot me. So drop it.”

Ezra looked at Lawrence and tossed the gun to the ground.

“You’re not going to do this are you?” Lawrence said.

“I’m not losing my grandson for you,” Ezra said.

“Ezra. She’s bluffing; she’s not going to hurt…” Before he could finish, Ezra punched him in the face, knocking him to the ground. Lawrence looked up at him, terrified. For the first time he was on the receiving end of his own attack dog.

“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be Lawrence. Just play along for now.”

“She killed Gordon. She cut him to pieces. You don’t think she’ll do that to us?”

“Too much talking!” Bailey yelled. Get going or I cut off a finger!”

“You heard her. You lost your son. I’m not losing my grandson.” Ezra grabbed Lawrence by the jacket collar and walked him into the plant. Bailey walked behind holding Kyle close. They stopped before one of the tables.

“Ok, strip.” Bailey said. “Everything. Get naked and lie on the table.”

“Do what she says Lawrence. I doubt you want me to undress you,” Ezra said.

Lawrence removed his jacket and tie, tossing them to the floor. He continued until he was completely naked. Bailey giggled at his tiny wiener poking out from the jungle of pubic hair around his crotch.

“What’s so funny?” Lawrence asked. His whole body was white, pasty and looked as if he had been molded from cookie dough.

“You’re needle-dick, it’s funny. Now get on the table. On your stomach.”

“You’re not going to get away with this. I hope you know that.”

“It doesn’t matter if I don’t. Nothing can change what is about to happen to you.”

Lawrence looked away and lie onto the table. She wondered why he didn’t try to run. It was unlikely he cared as much about Kyle as Ezra did, but maybe he feared Ezra that much. Once lying flat, Ezra used the duct tape to restrain his arms and legs to the table ends. Once he was sufficiently taped, he turned and looked at Bailey.

“Well? Happy?” He asked.

“So far.”

“Let my grandson go.”

“Not yet.”

“Look. I know you’re going to kill me. I really don’t give a shit. I want to make sure he’s safe.”

She pointed to the other table in the room. This one had a set of handcuffs hooked around a post at the end. She’d picked them up at an Army/Navy store when she got into town.

“Walk to that table and lie on your back. Then handcuff yourself to that post.”

“Let him go first.”

“Yeah let him go so you can bum rush me? I don’t think so.”

“I’m not moving until you let him go. I know you won’t kill him with me standing right here.”

In one smooth motion, she lifted the knife and cut Kyle’s ear off. The boy screamed and cried as his bloody ear fell to the ground. She picked it up and tossed it at Ezra who had started moving toward her. After a few steps, she put the knife to his throat.

“I told you not to fuck with me,” she said.

“Papa! Help me please!” Kyle cried.

“It’ll be ok bubby, Papa won’t let her hurt you again.”

“I’m not going to say it again, next time it will be his nose. Fucking lie down and cuff yourself.”

Ezra walked to the table and lie on his back, and clicked the cuffs onto each of his wrists. Once he was secure, she moved the knife away from Kyle and walked over to him. Keeping her distance, she carefully checked the cuffs, making sure they were secure. They were on good and tight.

“Now let him go. We had a deal,” Ezra said.

“You’re right. We did have a deal.”

She walked over to Kyle, knelt down and cut the tape lose. The little boy was still crying his hand went to his bloody ear.

“I told you I’d let him go, he’s free to go,” Bailey said just before she grabbed the boy by the hair and ran the knife across his throat. The cut was so deep, the boy’s head almost rolled completely off his neck as blood sprayed from his throat. Ezra tried to sit up as he screamed.

“Noooooo! Kyle! No!” He cried out as tears filled his eyes. She didn’t expect a guy like Ezra would cry, but she had found his soft spot. “You fucking cunt! You didn’t have to kill him! He had nothing to do with this shit! This was between us!”

She let the boy’s body drop to the floor as blood continue to ooze from his partial stump. The boy’s head lying to the side facing the wrong direction.

“You guys tried to kill me. You stood by watching with amusement while he fucking raped me with power tools and shit. Did you think I’d just lie there and let you kill me? Did you think I’d just run away and hide in fear from you assholes waiting on you to come after me? You thought wrong.”

“You’re a psycho fucking bitch!” Lawrence screamed from the other table.

“That’s right Lawrence. You thought what I did to your son was bad? What I did to Graves is fucking Candyland compared to the hell I’m about to unleash on you two. You two assholes fucked with the wrong girl. Now I’m about to make both of you my bitches.” She walked to the workbench and removed her clothes, folding each article of her clothing and putting them in one of her bags. Once her clothes were put away, she grabbed a cordless drill from the table and held it up. As she squeezed the trigger she watched the bit spin and looked at the two men on the tables. This was going to be fun.

Chapter 21

Lawrence was howling and screaming like a wild animal. On the floor next to his table was a pile of his own skin. Bailey walked up and down, looking him over. She was naked except for the blood that covered her. She’s pulled her hair back into a pony tail and had been slicing away at the back of his legs, his back and even removed huge chunks of skin from his ass.

“You know Lawrence, I bet I could remove a bunch of your skin, and have enough to make another person.”

He wasn’t even talking anymore. At some point his mind had gone. Lawrence had left the building. Next to him, Ezra lie on his table staring up at the ceiling. He hadn’t moved or flinched no matter what she’d done with Lawrence. No doubt, he knew what was in store for himself and had no desire to watch Lawrence go through it.

She thought she had one way to snap Lawrence out of his trance. Heading to the table, she picked up her modified strap on with the knives still attached and wrapped it around her waist. With it secured in place she walked to Lawrence’s table and stood in front of him. Her plastic and steel erection inches from his face.

“All right Lawrence,” she said. “You ready to get it on?”

“No! Just kill me! No! Please!” He screamed. That woke him up. She walked around behind him and climbed on onto the table. Mounting herself behind him, he began fighting and struggling. This was the most he’d struggled through anything so far. Amazing how much a fight guys will put up when something is about to go up their ass.

She leaned in and thrust the dildo into his ass, more blood gushed as he screamed again. Moving in and out, blood, flesh and tissue squished loudly as the blades shredded his anus. She reached up and grabbed his hair as she picked up her pace. He jerked and bucked, but was far too weak to have any effect. Bailey was in control now and there was no stopping her.

After several more minutes she climbed off the table. Once off, she looked down and saw shredded chunks that looked like bloody ground beef where his asshole used to be. As she adjusted the strap on, Lawrence’s bowels let loose as shit piled onto the table. The stink was powerful and instant as Bailey cringed.

“Fuck dude! A warning would be nice!” She said, but Lawrence just lie on the table sobbing. She walked over to the front and waved the blood soaked dildo in his face. Chunks of his asshole were still clinging to the shiny blades. “Ok Lawrence, time for the climax!” She said as she thrust the dildo into his eye socket.

He screamed once again as she felt his eyeball pop as thick, mucous ran onto the dildo and blades. She held his ears like pistol grips as she fucked his eye socket with the dildo from hell. More blood gushed from the socket and after a few minutes, he’d stopped moving. She pulled out and there were chunks of brain stuck to the tip of the dildo. Lawrence was dead. She looked over her handiwork and smiled. He had suffered greatly and she was satisfied. Looking over at Ezra, he still lie there looking up at the ceiling.

“Ok Pops! You’re next!”

Chapter 22

She walked to Ezra and looked at him staring off into space. The guy was a tough old nut, that was for sure. That just made Bailey want to crack him even more. She looked at his face, but he just stared right past her.

“You still in their Ezra?” She asked. “You didn’t leave me already did you?”

“I’m here.” He said without moving.

“You are! Great! I didn’t want you to miss any of the fun.” She grabbed a large knife and proceeded to cut his clothes off. He was in far better shape than Lawrence had been. As she tore his clothes away, she noticed he was gritting his teeth and biting his lower lip.

“Damn Ezra. You really got the tiny old man dick thing going on down there.” She said as she flicked his shriveled penis. He didn’t reply or even flinch. Bailey picked up a scalpel and ran it along his leg, and then up his stomach.

“So? Where should we start? Any body part giving you trouble, something you’d like to see removed first?” She asked, but no reply.

She took the scalpel and walked back by his feet. Lifting it up, she jammed the blade under his big toenail. He finally screamed as she sliced it back and forth, cutting through the sensitive flesh beneath the toenail. She continued slicing away until the toenail was off completely. Blood oozed from the cuts as Ezra struggled against her.

After working on several other toes, she used the scalpel to slice through each big toe. Both times, she had to saw away for several minutes and cut through the joint before the toe fell free. More blood gushed from the fresh stump as she moved up to his knees, running the blade along his kneecap.

“I’ve always wondered what these looked like,” She said as she began cutting through the patellar tendon as Ezra grunted, and then screamed as he thrashed against her. The tendon snapped like a thick piece of rubber as she cut away the flesh over the knee, carefully peeling it away. From there she cut the top of the tendon and cut away the muscle, pulling the kneecap bone free.

She held it up and looked at it closely before tossing it aside. Ezra had stopped screaming for the time being.

“That was much less remarkable than I had hoped,” she said.

Ezra lay silent as she made an incision down the middle of his stomach. He grunted again as she pulled him open exposing his intestines. She walked over to her table and grabbed the bottle of rubbing alcohol. Standing over him, she poured the rubbing alcohol into the hole. His intestines twitched and jiggled as he screamed and howled. She poured even more, eliciting even more screams from him.

Setting down the bottle, she reached in and pulled out a handful of his guts. They were sticky and slimy in her blood soaked hands as she cut through them. Clumps of bile and shit oozed out of both halves. She wrapped both hands around one of the pieces of intestines and began to pull, ripping them free of his abdomen as he yelled and screamed.

She stopped after a pile of his entrails were lying on the table and drooping onto the floor. She looked at Ezra who finally glared at her.

“You having fun?” He said, grunting. “You feel all big now?”

“Fuck you,” Bailey said. “Like you’re one to talk anyway. After what you guys did to me?”

“Lawrence did that to you. I just watched, remember?”

“You were enjoying it.”

“It’s a fucking job. It’s all a job. They pay me to help them in whatever sick shit they are a part of, and I help. I take no enjoyment whatsoever in it.”

“And you think that is ok? To just torture and kill people for money?”

“If it isn’t me, it’ll be someone else. I’m just making a living off the inevitable.”

He was so cool and calm. It was too bad she had to kill him. Ezra was a much bigger sociopath than she was. She could have learned some things from him.

“You’re a sicker fuck than I am,” she said.

“Oh I doubt that,” he said. “Just finish up. Make it quick.”

She went back to work on him, this time cutting off each of his fingers with a bolt cutters. He yelled with each crackle of the snapping bones. Soon both his hands were nothing but two large, bloody nubs. She still wasn’t satisfied as she walked his face and began cutting around the top of his head. She sliced through the flesh from the top of his head, just around his ears and along his jawline.

He screamed as she pulled the flesh away, fat and tissue ripped and snapped. Once it was off, his face was now a red lump of blood and tissue with two eyes looking up at her. She turned to the table and looked at the flesh mask of Ezra’s face as she adjusted the strap on. Making sure the blades were straight, she pressed the bloody mask of flesh to her face as it stuck against her skin.

She turned walked over to Ezra who was lying there now moaning. His eyes were wide as a trail of bloody drool ran from his mouth. As he looked up at her, his eyes looked like they were about to jump out of his head, to see his own face staring back at him, from a naked woman’s body. She reached up and sliced through his scrotum, removing his testicles as he let out another scream. This one was more of a loud, airy gasp but his eyes never left her.

“Open wide Pops!” She said as she stuffed his testicles into his mouth. He gagged and screamed as she held his mouth shut to keep him from spitting. Finally, she let him spit them out, but through his open mouth she thrust the dildo and blades inside. She thrust away repeatedly, feeling the dildo bottom out against the back of his head. He gagged and gurgled as she thrust over and over again. Despite his mouth being filled with the deadly dildo, he finally began screaming and crying as his body thrashed as if it were having a seizure. She had finally broken him.

Chapter 23

Bailey had left the bodies, but took her tools with her to a cheap hotel. Once checked in, she went to her room and took a long, hot shower. This ordeal was over, and at the same time, it was just beginning. Looking in the mirror, she smiled at herself. It was amazing to her how much she’d grown in such a short time. Just days ago she was Bailey the lawyer. Now she wasn’t a lawyer, or even a person for that matter. The Wendigo was a transition, but she had evolved into something else entirely.

“Goodbye Bailey,” she said knowing she had one more person left to kill. Leaving her old life behind both frightened and thrilled her at the same time. No more pretending she was something else. It was time to become the woman she was always meant to be.

Taking out a pair of scissors, she began cutting her hair, watching her blonde locks fall into the sink, she cut away until she had a nice, pixie haircut. She cleaned the hair from the sink and flushed it down the toilet. Next, she removed the hair coloring from her bag and began dousing her blonde hair with the jet black coloring. Finally, she had the look she wanted. Satisfied with her new look she skipped out of the bathroom.

She packed up her things and put on clean clothes, which consisted of a black Slayer t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Grabbing her bags, she headed out of the room and down the street. After taking a cab to the bus station, she boarded a bus. Which bus? Any bus. She was any girl and she was headed anywhere and everywhere. Bailey Hart was now dead. Was the world ready for this new girl? Ready or not, Isis Raine was coming.

The End

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 charges 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.

Also follow Tim Miller’s Amazon Author Page to be notified of each new release!