3. Naughty, Naughty

Three

Naughty, Naughty

T he moonlight casts shadows of a tree swaying overhead, with the slight breeze penetrating through the missing pieces of the barn. The moon gave me just enough light to do what I had planned for this waste of space. It gave the scenery you would only see in a horror movie. And a pissed-off bitch like me probably deserved something that should be made a horror film.

"Where the hell am I, and who the fuck are you?" he slurred, blinking at me in a dazed state like I was some kind of ghost. I couldn't help but smirk a little under my mask.

"I am your worst fuckin' nightmare, buddy." He has got some blood dripping down from his ear where I had hit him with the piece of wood. His vision and hearing are both probably wildly fucked up right now.

He struggled against the ropes, and I leaned in closer, my voice low and steady. I reached down, grabbed my bayonet, and started twirling it in my hands, sauntering around him. "Tsk, tsk, tsk You thought you could just rape the poor helpless girl, huh?" His eyes widened, and I could see the panic setting in. I was ready to make sure he understood precisely what he did wrong. "Who I am is not important, now tell me.. what did you have planned tonight?" he's sitting there with his head down, clearly ignoring my question. That just won't do. I'll get some answers out of him one way or another. "I don't have all night. I have more business to attend to if you don't mind helping me speed things up a bit." He says nothing.

I squatted next to him, leveling myself, and heard my knees pop on the way down. I pulled my bayonet up to his face, tracing his jawline to intimidate him. With the slightest push causing light pressure, I nicked him enough for a stinging sensation and for blood to draw. He hissed out, reacting to the cut. His ignorance of this situation infuriates me as if he is innocent. I need to just get this shit over with. I yank a handful of his hair into my grasp, and that caused him to go wide-eyed in fear. I need to hear him say it. I need to listen to him admit to his mistake of the night. It's hard tellin' how many other girls he's done this shit to and got away with it.

The sight of blood made me lick my lips under my Ghostface mask. "I will ask you one more time: What did you have planned tonight with this woman?" He started to whimper and plead for me to let him go. "You psycho! You have no fucking clue who I am, do you? Let me fucking go!" He barks out in a panicked but serious tone. "You are in no position to demand what you want if you have not noticed," I retorted. "Do you think she would have agreed to fuck your ugly ass if she wasn't in the condition she is currently in?" I say, gesturing at her frail body lying on the cold ground.

I pick up the torch and grab ahold of the branding iron. Lighting the torch, I twisted the branding iron on the flame like I was roasting s'mores. The sight made him more active, and he started to fidget against the ropes." I..I..I was just looking to have some fun," he exclaimed. "I wasn't going to fucking hurt her!" He shouted out. "Oh, fun? That's it? Why didn't you just say so in the first place?" I said in a sarcastic voice, followed by a weak chuckle. It's always the same shit when pigs like this get caught in action.

As he sits there whining, I think about all the possibilities of how tonight could play out in my favor. The branding iron is starting to get cherry red and hot as hell, Literally. "I'm truly sorry….. I..I didn't intend on harming her tonight. I was just messing around." Liar. "Tsk. Tsk.Tsk. That is the exact opposite of what I am here for. I fully intend to cause a pig such as yourself pain tonight. Did you know that branding irons is a wicked method to brand cattle? They have a new way, and it's cold instead of hot. It helps reduce the chances of infections and is deemed less cruel to animals. They usually get to about three hundred and fifty degrees Fahrenheit or more, and if it's beating red like this one I have here, then it is too hot and needs to be closer to an ash color. But I don't want to bore you with fun facts." Bending down to his level, he went to say something. Before he could, I shoved an old oily cloth I had seen earlier into his mouth.

His words are now nothing short of a bunch of mumbles and a mix of attempted yells. "Now, this is going to be more for me than for you," I swear you can hear the smirk stretch across my face after I said that. Slamming the branding iron into his chest, the sizzling sound and the burnt smell of his skin hit the air in the barn, quickly spreading up my nostrils. The scent is strong as fuck. But man, is it delicious.

His screams are loud, but from where we are in the barn, nobody will be able to hear him. It does cause the woman to move in her daze, though. I need to quicken this so I can return the girl somewhere she will be safe. It would not be ideal for me to let an unconscious chick ride on my bike through town, and on top of that, I don't even know where she lives, and I am sorry, but she would not be staying at my crib. I let the burn singe momentarily, the iron melting through his skin like butter in a hot pan.

I removed it from his skin, and the sight would be repulsing to any average person, but me? That shit looks like it should be a famous art piece in a museum somewhere. The opened wound has a color with a mixture of red and brown, outlined with raised, blistered white skin. I let the burn cool off for a moment, and his adrenaline died down a bit. And now that the best part of his night was over, so was he—over.

I use my free hand to grab a fist full of his sweat-soaked hair, and taking my bayonet, I put it up to his neck. Yanking his head back and putting his throat on full display, I see his veins sticking out like a wicked road map, throbbing full of life. The knife went through each layer of his skin like pure fuckin' butter. His days of raping and taking advantage of girls were over. I watched him wiggle for a minute or so, and the last moments of his body jerked. I take the old oiled cloth from his mouth, wipe my blade off, and place it back in its rightful home. "See you in hell, you piece of shit."

My night is as beautiful as ever. Full of screams, crying, blood, and vengeance. What more could I ask for?