Page 13 of Trick or Treat
"Good, he's fucking mine tonight."
"You can have him, but the girl's mine, Blade," Saint threatens, his tone completely unplayful.
As we approach our secret chamber, the smell of blood and death becomes more overt, and I pull my brother against the side of my body while draping my arm over his shoulders.
"She's all of ours, Saint, but you can have her first. You know how this shit works."
We don’t even bother to tie Shawn down because his ass is paralyzed; he’s passed out from blood loss and lies limp inside the concrete dungeon—as we like to call it—on a slab stained with blood and bodily fluids from our numerous previous victims. Red pulls out his pliers and hammer, and admires them like they’re gold medals, while White pulls out the hacksaw and starts ripping off the old blades to replace them with brand-new ones. With his earpods in and Tech N9ne blasting into his ears, Silver simply leans against the door while twirling his knife around and smoking a cigarette, loosely tucked in the corner of his mouth.
I crack open a fresh bottle of gin to start the party as we prepare for another night of torture and mutilation, wondering what this girl looks like and why my brother already seems to be infatuated with her. He has never been this way with anyone, not even his ex-wife, and after their divorce, he just withdrew into himself like a fucking recluse. She has got to be some kind of special, even to his twisted soul, because the other night, when all this shit happened, I saw his eyes sparkle with color for the first time in years.
Saint
With fire, desire, and absolute salvation coursing through us, the four of us, covered in blood from head to toe, look down at the body parts and slabs of flesh lying around the plastic liner covering the floor. I save thebest for last, taking my machete and aiming the piercing, razor-sharp blade at the neck while standing over the skinless torso. I split the head off cleanly with one hard, accurate swing to the spine, then watch with satisfaction as it rolls over to White's feet.
"Give me that shit. I have plans for it," I bark with a little proud tone in my voice.
"I don't even want to know, Sil," Red says, shaking his head as he starts picking up the scattered limbs and tossing them into a black contractor bag.
"No, you don't," I chuckle and take the head from White's feet, wrapping it in a heavy cloth to help absorb any remaining blood that has not yet been drained from the body. Making sure I don’t forget it on our way out, I put the wrapped head into my bag and leave it by the door.
"What's the plan after we clean up? Are we getting the others? I mean, we don't know if they saw us with the dead frat kid," White adds, chewing on a toothpick as the E pills begin to kick in, his pupils big, black, and wild.
"Eventually, Mr. Impatient. We can't take too many so close together. You know that. That's how people get caught." My brother throws his wisdom into the conversation, standing back and observing Red and White cleaning up the bloody scene.
"We're going out tonight. I need my dick sucked, and I'm in the mood to play a little game… how about you boys?" Black looks at me and grins, knowing how much I love me a good game and a good fuck, and right now, that's exactly what I fucking need.
But all I keep thinking about isher—Scarlett. I've gone back to see her every night since I first laid eyes on her four years ago, but she still hasn't seen me yet. It's better this way, especially if I'm going to have to kill her.
Scarlett
Another daythat I wish I hadn’t woken up.
It’s well after six p.m., so I‘ve slept the day away, which is a good thing. The wind is whipping so hard that leaves are slapping against the window panes and sticking to them like glue as I stretch, yawn, and turn on my side to see another gloomy fall day. All day long, Carli's murder plays over and over in my head, messing with every fiber of my being. Even though I'm on the verge of jeopardizing my hard-earned career, I've managed to keep it a secret like the others.
My phone starts vibrating back-to-back before I can finish waking up, making the same noise as my vibrator on high. I grab it, and a tingle shoots through my hand, spreading to the rest of my body and jolting me slightly awake.
It's River. I should've known.I mutter to myself as I scroll up to the first message, click on it, and take a deep breath.
Hey, have you heard from Shawn?
Thirty minutes went by before he sent another one.
Scar, I need you to call me. I think something happened to Shawn.
I look at the time on the next one and notice it's from two hours later.
Scar, Shawn never came home, and he's not answering his phone. Hislocation says he's in the cemetery…
Scar, pick up your phone. I think something is seriously fucking wrong.
Usually, River can be dramatic, and I'm only saying that because I love him. But as I read the messages over and over, I can sense the panic in River's words. Dread fills my stomach, and my skin starts to burn as I dial his number and put the phone to my ear.
"What the fuck, babe? Where have you been?"
"I've been sleeping, River. I was finally able to fall asleep for the first time since that night. My bad… What's going on with Shawn, though?"
"I'm glad you were able to finally rest, and I'm sorry for being a dick, but I'm fucking worried, babe. Shawn never came home, and he still isn't answering." Panic drips from his shaky voice and starts working me up even more.