One

Had another nightmare and wrote story. Ready for some fucked up shit?

"I love this song, don't you?" I commented casually as I inserted two small hooks into his scalp.

I'll admit, for being and angel I don't have the easiest or cleanest job. But someone has got to do it.

I wiped my bloodied hands on my apron and tugged open a drawer to pull out more hooks. The man strapped to the chair started to babble and beg. I turned up the stereo to drown out his cries. I bobbed my head to the heavy drums of the death metal song while I pierced the thin skin on his head again. I smiled when I thought of the irony: listening to death metal while I killed this disgusting excuse of a man.

I strapped a plastic ring around his head, just above his eyebrows. The ring would prevent any blood from running into his eyes. When I studied his face, I saw his eyes dart from side to side, unable to focus on one thing. His pupils were dilated with fear and his eyelids trembled.

I had the crank timed to pull on his scalp every two minutes until it would finally rip from his skull. The whole process would take about six to eight minutes, so I had time to kill. (No pun intended.)

I grabbed a stool and sat facing him. "You know," I began as I lit a cigarette, "I don't know hwy you insist on begging and crying. Asking for mercy-"
The crank pulled slightly, stretching the skin around his head and he cried out. The crank locked in place and wouldn't pull again for another two minutes.
I took another drag from the cigarette and let the nicotine burn my throat. "You never gave any of those girls mercy when you raped them. Honestly, I'm doing you a favor by not letting you live. You won't have to live with the guilt anymore."
The crank started up again and pulled. The pierced skin around the hooks started to tear slightly.

Hmmmm....

I let the cigarette hang out of my mouth as I paused the crank machine. I picked up my scalpel and made a surface incision around his head. We wanted the crank to pull his whole scalp off, not just put tears in his skin. I turned the crank back on.

"There we are!" I said satisfied, taking another drag from my cigarette.

His fists clenched and unclenched. Struggling wouldn't do him any good. He was strapped in good.

"As I was saying. About guilt. Living with guilt is like your own personal hell. By doing this, I'm just sending you to real hell."
Click-click. The crank pulled more, stretching his skin almost to the breaking point. Drops of blood dripped from the cut around his head, being pulled apart slowly.

I put out my cigarette and sat staring at the man. I never worried about being caught or sent to jail. The people I killed wouldn't be missed. In fact, many people would thank me for what I'm doing. It's very humbling, doing the world a favor and not being recognized for it, not asking for anything in return. God continued to bless and provide for me. I didn't need anything else.

Besides, female "killers" aren't common.

Some people would call me a murderer, but I'm not. God made it very clear why he sent me to the earth. To bring justice to this world. And boy, do I have my work cut out for me.

The crank clicked once more and his skin gave way, making a sickening tearing sound as his scalp ripped from his grayish skull. His high-pitched scream bounced off the walls and I wondered if it sounded similar to the screams of the women he raped. What a sick man.

He started to say something and I turned down the volume on the stereo to hear him. "Please. Please, just let me go. I swear I will never touch a woman again. Just please, let me go. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." The blood ran down the sides of his head, pooling on the seat cover.

"Luckily for you, " I began while I stood to turn off the crank, "We serve a forgiving God. Maybe he will forgive you of your sick crimes. But that's not up to me." I took off my rubber gloves and my apron. "I hate to leave you like this, but I have a hot date to get ready for. I'll be back later tonight to finish this up."

I left the room and headed for the bathroom to wash up. I really didn't like leaving him there, job undone. But he would meet his fate soon enough.

I had a date with a cop, funny enough. He's charming and funny, a good man from what I could tell. The second date is my favorite part of a budding relationship.
We'll see how this goes.