by Tim Miller
“They call him The Hammer?”
“It’s a nickname. He’s German. His name is Krautenhammer.”
“Wow, that’s quite a name.” The name rang vaguely familiar with her. Her father, an FBI agent had mentioned him a time or two, but spoke of him as if he were an urban legend or something. The thought made her wonder what her dad was up to these days. Last time she’d seen him was at the Jericho facility in San Antonio before they were about to dissect her. She hadn’t seen him since. Part of her didn’t want to see him again, since she didn’t know if he’d betrayed her or not. Another part wanted him to explain. That was all for another time.
“Yeah, it’s fitting. Now let me make a few calls…”
The TV, which had been blaring in the background, cut to another emergency news update. They both stopped to watch when they heard the word “clowns.”
“We have another shocking update in the killer clown case. Earlier today a band of clowns broke into a local nursing home and shot and killed most of the residents and staff. A few moments ago, what appears to be the same group, except even more of them have stormed the Dallas Police Department while opening fire.” The anchorman reported as security footage of clowns walking through the front lobby of the police department while shooting played on the screen.
“No word yet on how many were killed. Although we do know at least three of the gunman were killed by police. Annette Dugan is live on the scene with a full report. Annette?”
The screen cut to a pretty blonde standing across the street from the police department where cars and ambulances were lined up.
“Yes, so far there is no official count, but I’m hearing there may be as many twenty officers who were killed. The whole thing seems to have just lasted under two minutes. The gunmen came in, opened fire and retreated as soon as police began returning fire. A couple gunmen were hit, but the others got away in what is believed to be the same van used in the nursing home shooting earlier. Police are currently in pursuit of the van as the city wide manhunt has just been escalated to a new level.”
April turned off the TV and looked at Grant. There had been no mention of the gun store shootout, but that was nothing compared to this.
“That’s them,” he said. “Get to the hospital and talk to the wounded clowns. I’m sure you can make one of them talk. They’ll tell you where she is.”
“Good idea,” she said as she jumped to her feet and grabbed Grant’s keys.
“Don’t go after them yourself. Find out and come back here. You need to have Krautenhammer with you. Mad Maxwell is not going to go down easy and I’m pretty sure your little tricks won’t work on him.”
“All right. Whatever you say.”
“I’m serious. Not to mention, you may not be ready for what you find once you find her.”
“That’s possible. Or more likely they won’t be ready for me.”
Chapter 11
Isis struggled and thrashed as the snake crawled up inside her. Mad Maxwell had pulled her labia apart and inserted one of the snakes. She screamed as the small, scaly creature slithered up onside her.
“Get it out of me! Get it out, you fuck!” she screamed.
“Sorry girl. No can do.” Mad Maxwell said. “He found his home it looks like.”
The snake slithered back and forth inside her vagina. She could feel it moving around and could tell when its tongue shot out of its mouth. Despite her resistance, she grew wet as the snake continue wiggling. Fuck no, this could not be happening. She’s being raped by a snake and its turning her on? What the hell is wrong with her?
Biting her lip, trying to avoid the sensations, she couldn’t stop herself as the orgasms hit. A tear ran down her face, enraged by her body’s betrayal as wave after wave of orgasm swept over her. She closed her eyes and did everything possible not to give away what was happening, but it was too late.
“Well, well! Bravo! That’s quite a show! Holy cow! That’s like snake porn. Good stuff. I should have recorded that. I’m sure some guy in his mom’s basement would pay top dollar for that,” Mad Maxwell said.
“Fuck you!” She said as the snake still moved around. Mad Maxwell reached some fingers inside of her and came out holding the snake by the tail. She felt relieved that the creature was no longer inside her, but ashamed that she came as the result of a fucking snake. She had to take some deep breaths as her stomach lurched at the thought. If she didn’t get her breathing under control, she’d throw up all over herself. After a few breaths, her stomach did calm down and she settled herself. However, the pain her shoulder had begun throbbing again.
“Ok honey-bunch. That was the fun part,” Mad Maxwell said. “I could tell it was quite fun for you too. That wasn’t expected, but a nice treat nonetheless.”
He walked to a cabinet and opened it up. As he stepped back, he was holding a drill with a long bit on the end. Isis tried to wiggle away, but he pressed the drill into her kneecap and began slicing through. Isis screamed as the drill smoked with the smell of burnt bone and blood filling the air. The pain was intense, unlike anything she knew existed. She thought back to things she’d done to many of her victims, and how much it pleasured her to hear their screams.
She wondered if Mad Maxwell was enjoying himself the same way she always had. There was no doubt he was having a grand old time. That thought made her even angrier. Sure, it was hypocritical; she enjoyed torturing others, but hated this clown torturing her, but fuck it. The drill pushed its way out the back of her knee snapping her out of her thoughts with a burning ache that she didn’t think she could handle.
Screaming again, he ripped the drill out of its hole he held it in front of her face, pressing the trigger as blood and chunks flew off, some hitting her face.
“Oh sorry. I’m making such a mess! Oh well, I think the other knee might be neglected. What do you think?”
“I think you’re a goofy little-bitch.” She said, gritting her teeth. After the orgasms, she was determined to show as little pain or suffering as possible, no matter what he did to her. She had no doubt he was going to kill her, which she couldn’t stop. She could stop him from having as much fun at it.
“Still some fight in you. That’s good. I like it. Makes things interesting. Hey! We should play a game. I will do unspeakable things to you, and see how long it takes you to break. If I break you, well then I get to kill you. If I get tired and give up, you’re free to go. How’s that sound?” Mad Maxwell said sounding pleased with himself.
“How about you take that drill, shove it up your own ass and squeeze the trigger?” Isis said, knowing he was about to let her have it.
“Hmm,” he revved the drill as he held it up to his face. “Now that would be painful. Let me see.” With a single swing, he smashed the butt of the drill into her nose. She both heard and felt her nose crunch as everything went black for several seconds. As she opened her eyes, she saw stars and felt the room spinning as Mad Maxwell stood over her, laughing. She could taste the blood running down her throat and began to gag as the blood oozed into her nostrils.
“Wow, that looks like it hurts,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’ll take your mind right off that nose.” He revved the drill and thrust it into her other knee. This time with much more force than the first. Isis screamed at the sudden pain, but her screams were cut off by the dripping blood in her throat. The screams turned to gagging as she heaved and threw up all over her own chest and shoulder.
Mad Maxwell paused and looked at her. Blood running down her crooked, swollen nose as vomit dripped from her chin. She could feel the blood and the vomit, which made her want to throw up some more.
“Wow girl, you’re gonna look like me if we keep this up! Hahahaha!” He fired the drill back up and continued drilling through her knee. This time he wiggled the drill in wide circles causing her to scream even louder until it went all the way through. He ripped it out and licked the tip.
“You see Isis. I know who you are. And who you were. You eat people don’t
you? A cannibal?” he asked.
It had been almost a year since she’d eaten anyone. She had settled down when she met her boyfriend and tried to live a normal life. So much for that idea. How Mad Maxwell knew any of this was beyond her.
“No, I’m not a fucking cannibal!”
“Liar! Liar pants on fire! Oh, you’re not wearing pants! Hahaha! Well I know you have, and you know what I’m talking about. I can see it in your eyes.”
He took out a switchblade and popped it open. Leaning in, he cut a piece of flesh out of Isis’ thighs. He walked over to her with the bloody meat while she pinched her mouth shut, knowing exactly what he was about to do.
“Come on, open up! It’s time for a snack! Hahaha!”
Chapter 12
April arrived at the hospital and into the emergency room. The place was a zoo. There were cops all over the place. They’d brought the wounded officer’s here as well as the injured clowns. She wasn’t sure if that was a great idea or not, but the more commotion going on, the better for her.
There were at least a dozen cops in one hallway. She turned and went the opposite direction when she found an exam room with a single officer standing outside. That had to be one of the clowns’ rooms. Yet, she was surprised the cop hadn’t gone and shot the clown as soon as he had a chance. She looked down and unbuttoned the top few buttons on her shirt. Once she was standing before the cop, he looked up at her eyes and immediately to her cleavage. She was smiling at him, but he couldn’t see it.
“Can I help you ma’am?” he asked.
“Yeah, hi! I’m April,” she said with an exaggerated flick of her hair. “I saw the news earlier. Is that one of those clowns in there?”
He finally looked up at her, his own smile vanished from her face.
“I’m afraid I can’t disclose that Miss April. You should probably move along.”
“Oh, but I wanted to see him. I kinda have this thing with clowns, I think they’re hot!”
“Clowns are hot?”
“Oh yeah. Something cute, yet so freaky about them, and this guy’s a killer clown. Can I see him? Please? Just a peak?” she said. Though she had no idea why she was toying with him for so long.
“No. I’m sorry. You need to leave.”
April was done with him as she reached out with her mind and telepathically stroking his own. His face changed to a look of pleasure, confusion, and then fear. He grabbed his crotch as he moaned and gyrated before letting out one loud gasp as he climaxed in his uniform pants.
“Stand out of my way, and don’t let anyone in here,” she ordered, now having full control over his mind and will. He nodded as he moved aside, letting her into the room. Once inside, she saw the clown lying in bed. She closed the door behind her as she walked up to see him hooked up to some monitors. He still had clown makeup smeared on his face, though a lot of it had rubbed off.
There was a bandage over his chest and an IV in his arm. She walked up and knelt down by his bed.
“Can you hear me?”
He opened his eyes halfway and looked in her direction. She was relieved to know he was just a guy in clown paint instead of a real clown. That would make this much easier.
“Ok, I know you can hear me. I know who you work for and I’m willing to bet that you know who I am.” He didn’t reply. “Blink if yes.”
He blinked one time.
“Good. I need you to tell me, or to write down where Mad Maxwell is and where your buddies took my friend.”
“I-I don’t know,” he struggled to say. His voice sounded dry and raspy.
“I know you do, and I have ways of making you tell me. One more time. Where are they?”
“I-I don’t know. I really don’t.”
April used her mind as he grew tense and gave the usual facial expressions as he came on himself lying in his hospital bed.
“Now, take your finger and jam it in the hole in your chest,” she ordered.
“What? Why?” he said, but his hand was already moving against his will, his index finger thrusting itself into the bandage on his chest. He screamed as he twist his own finger side to side. Tears ran down the man’s face as April lowered her face, her blue eyes casting daggers into his.
“Now. Tell me.”
“Ok. Ok. What did you just do to me?” he asked.
“A little trick that can get a whole lot worse if you don’t start talking.”
“All right. It’s a warehouse on the other side of town. It’s past the old Friedman Foods plant. He’s got it all decked out on the inside. Other than a few cars out there, the outside doesn’t stand out. He’s there. That’s where we all meet up. He’s really crazy.”
“Yeah. I gathered that. Why did you guys raid the police department? What was that shit all about?”
“I have no idea. He said he wants to go after that Jericho place so we had to be ready. I didn’t want to go along with it, I figured I was in over my head, but you can’t just up and quit with him. So, I went along with it. When we got there I tried to just hit the deck and not shoot anyone or get shot, but I was one of the first ones hit.”
“Why did you go to work for that asshole? You couldn’t tell by looking at him he’s completely fucked?” she asked.
“Yeah. I had nothing else going on and the guy is loaded. He’s always got wads of cash on him. I couldn’t turn that down.”
“No, I guess not.”
She stood and debated what to do with the guy. Part of her wanted to kill him just out of principle. He was a career criminal. How psycho do you have to be to go work for a guy like Mad Maxwell? If anything, she’d be putting him and others out of misery. She figured she’d at least make it humane. She turned and walked out of the room. As she walked by the cop again, without looking at him she ordered.
“Shoot him.” She kept walking and a minute later a gunshot sounded from the clown’s room. Without incident, she was able to slip past the rest of the police and get back to the truck. As she started it up and headed onto the road, she couldn’t stop wondering what Mad Maxwell was doing to Isis.
Chapter 13
Krautenhammer sat in his car watching the house. This would be an easy job. A bunch of low level drug dealers had been skimming money off the top. Their boss found out about it and doesn’t like to be stolen from. He wasn’t sure why the guy called him for an easy job like this, but he wasn’t going to turn down the money.
Things had been slow since a job he’d taken down in Mexico a year or two ago. His client then had sold him out on a job. Fortunately, Krautenhammer had found out about it before it was too late and took care of things. Problem was word got around that he had turned on a client. That wasn’t exactly the case. He’d killed the client sure, only after he found out about the double cross. Oh well. Things were finally picking back up.
There were supposed to be four guys in this place and the job was to take them all out. Easy enough. He climbed out of the car and reached under his jacket. Both guns were in place. As he walked around the front, he looked around and made sure there were no neighbors watching. Seeing it was clear, he snuck around the back of the house.
He reached the back fence and opened the gate, only to be startled by a pair of pit bulls barking as if they were ready to attack. The barking set off other dogs in the neighborhood. This would only alert the men inside to his presence, a big reason the dogs were there to begin with. He quickly pulled one of the guns and fired two shots killing each dog with a single silenced round. Once they stopped he ducked down and waited to see if anyone came out of the house. Someone did.
A lanky white guy with a shaved head came out the back door looking around.
“Bowser? What are you two barking at? Bowser? Zeus?” he walked around the side where he found their bodies. “Holy fuck!” he screamed as he turned to run back to the house, but Krautenhammer appeared from behind the bushes and opened fire. The kid never knew what hit him as two rounds entered his back, one of which pierced his heart instantly.
“Skank! Is that you? What’s going on out there?” A man called out as footsteps approached. Krautenhammer froze as a Mexican guy with no shirt on, covered in tattoos came in the doorway. Before his face could even register panic, Krautenhammer dropped him with a single shot to the heart. The shell casing made a loud “clang!” on the kitchen floor, alarming the other men.
“Shit! Someone’s shooting! Let’s go!” another man yelled as Krautenhammer picked up his pace and flew into the living room. Without even looking he opened fire shooting at anything and everything moving in the room. There were several screams including women’s screams as he fired. He stopped to reload, and assess the situation.
Another one of the men was down, but trying to crawl away. He whimpered and coughed as he spit up blood. Krautenhammer walked up behind him, reloaded the gun and fired a single shot into the back of his head. There was another scream from the corner. This was a young Mexican woman. She was bleeding from the leg. He walked over to her and pointed the gun at her face. She was crying and muttering something.
“Mi bebe’! Mi bebe’!” she cried. He knew enough Spanish to know she was saying “My baby! My baby!” He pulled the trigger once, hitting her in between the eyes. The back of her head blew out onto the wall, painting it bright red as chunks of her brains and skull oozed down the wall. Turning to his right, he saw the crib pushed up against the wall. It was and old wooden crib with several fresh bullet holes.
As he walked over and looked inside, he figured out why she had been screaming. In his barrage, he’d struck the baby. Now the crib was just filled with huge chunks of bloody flesh. He wasn’t sure how many times the baby had been hit, but the child had exploded like a melon. One of his targets was missing still.
