Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
1
Nick
“Tell me what you know about Rossi and the mayor.” The man cowering before me was bleeding out. My hand tightened around his balls and squeezed until his eyes rolled back in his head. I eased up just enough to let him catch his breath.
“They’re in bed together, the mayor lets him know when something’s going down.”
“This I already know. Where do they meet?”
“I don’t, know, I…” I squeezed harder and he spilled his guts.
Once I had everything I needed, I pulled the knife from my the small of my back where I’d hidden it, and cut him.
His screams died in his lungs as he choked on his own blood and his own dick and balls that I’d just shoved down his throat. I kicked him away from me just as the breath left his body for the last time.
Outside in the cool night air I walked in the shadows until I reached the place where I’d hidden my ride. No one should be around these parts this time of night, but it didn’t hurt to be extra careful.
I still had one last job to do before I hung it up, no point in getting caught now after I’d come this far. My last mark was a slippery fucker, he went into hiding after the second hit but I knew how to draw him out. I wasn’t worried.
I rode for home, my new home, and headed for my hiding place where I stripped and put my blood soaked clothes in the fire to burn. I had one last black on black outfit hanging in the closet in my little basement hideout. One last hit.
I stoked the fire and watched the cloth turn to ash before dissolving it in solution. I had no fear of anyone finding me out, but I’d learned enough over the years to know that it was the little things that tripped you up every time.
I hit the bathroom for a quick wash-up to get the stench of blood off of my hands before heading back to the room and pressing the on button on the remote.
The call I’d put in to the top reporter in the city and the cops simultaneously should’ve brought some results by now. The screen came on and I recognized the scene before it flashed back to the newsroom.
I watched and listened as if from a distance. As if I hadn’t just been there. I’d already moved on in my head. Somebody out there might mourn his loss I’m sure, there was always one.
A mother, a wife, someone who had found something redeeming in the scum that plagued the earth. I hadn’t felt shit when I did him or the two before him. His life meant no more to me than that of a pesky fly I had to put down for annoying the fuck outta me.
I looked away from the screen but kept my ears pricked to what was going on. I tinkered around with the little carousel I was working on, being careful as I painted the intricate detail of a horse’s tail.
It didn’t escape me that not more than an hour ago I was using these same hands to destroy something ugly, and now here I was building something beautiful.
One was part of the past. A past I couldn’t lay to rest until I’d exacted vengeance, and the other a part of the future I planned on reclaiming.
The voice of the reporter intruded on my thoughts once again and I tuned back in to hear what spin they were going to put on this one.
‘The man known as ‘The Savage’ has struck again. Authorities say that the one-man vigilante crew has brought down yet another suspected gang leader. This will make the third murder in as many months.”
“Once again there was nothing left at the scene for law enforcement to work with other than the body, another gruesome find. Be warned the images you are about to see are graphic and may cause some distress.’
The report shifted from the news desk to a sound bite and the image of a body. They show every damn thing on TV these days.
‘Earlier this evening, the body of Salvatore Santino was found dismembered with his genitals stuffed into his mouth. As police are scrambling to find anything that would lead to the identity of this one-man task force, the public has been singing his praises. Here now is Terry Ross reporting from the scene.’
‘Yes Peter, this evening we are on the scene of yet another grisly find, of what seems to be the calling card of the man the city has dubbed ‘The Savage’.
‘Behind me the crowd is divided. Some say they applaud the efforts of this unknown assailant, who in their eyes has been doing more to clean up the streets than the men and women who are paid to see to that task. While the other camp is not so certain of what he will do next.’