The complete “A Glimpse into Hell” series - 5 books, 195 chapters, 1700 pages, 600K words of pure gore

by Garrett, Wade H.

  Seth sat in a chair next to the suspended man. He started to speak, but then looked down at a pile of feces on the floor that had dripped out of the man’s colon. He stood back up and walked over to a pile of cinderblocks that were a few feet away and sat down. “David reminded me of this piece of shit. Not sure why, maybe because they both liked to drink beer, or because I rerouted their intestines. But anyway, his name is Jerry and he has only been in here for a few weeks. I found out about him on a chat line when his ex-wife was discussing how she was very terrified him. She said he was going to kill her and her kids when he got out of prison, which was within a few weeks. She said he wanted revenge because she had turned him in when she found out he had been molesting their two-year-old daughter and five-year-old stepson. She and her son testified during trial and he was livid at them. She believed his threats were real because he had sent his brother to kill her while he was in jail awaiting sentencing for the molestation, but the moron went to her original address and was shot and killed by the new homeowner as he was kicking in the backdoor. The jackass also blamed her for the death of his brother. Jerry received a twelve-year sentence for the molestation and an additional two years for the conspiracy to commit murder. He was going to be released only after serving seven years in an Alabama prison because it was overcrowded and they needed to make room for the bad criminals, such as the marijuana smokers. Before I decided if I was going to go after….”

  Dicky interrupted. “You went after this guy because of a chat line discussion?”

  “It’s not like these assholes are listed on some vigilante website. And it isn’t like I just take someone’s word. That’s just a starting point. I still have to investigate shit for myself, like with this jack wagon. I examined the court records of his trial. Evidence did indicate that the two children had been sexually molested and he had conspired with his brother to kill his ex-wife and stepson. He apparently didn’t want his daughter to be harmed. His plan was to make the killings look like a random robbery that had gone wrong, and his brother and his wife, who couldn’t have children, would become the girl’s legal guardians. From the chat line conversations, I knew the time and date that he was going to be released. I also learned Jerry didn’t have any family or friends left that would claim him, so most likely he was going to have to walk from the prison or call a cab when they let him out.

  A week before his release, I bought a black, late seventies Smokey and the Bandit type Pontiac Trans Am from a dude on Craigslist several counties over. Over the next couple of days, I did some general maintenance on the vehicle to ensure it would be mechanically sound, I modified it like I usually do with my other vehicles. I also swapped out the tires with a new set and replaced the Texas license plates and registration sticker with a fake set. I would install an Alabama plate and sticker once I got there.

  It was about a twelve-hour drive, so I left at eleven pm. I arrived an hour early at the prison, and as I sat in my car I admired my disguise through the rear-view mirror. I looked like a drugged out, crazy ass lowlife. I had a long, black wig that almost reached my ass crack, a thick mustache, facial prosthetics and makeup that gave my face a very rough look with a lot of scars and pock marks. I wore a rebel flag do-rag, my blue jeans had holes and were extremely worn, and I was wearing an old Mӧtley Crüe T-shirt that had the sleeves torn off. I had wide-band leather cuffs around both of my wrists, and tattoos covered both of my arms. I had skull and other medieval-looking rings on my fingers and I wore a heavy looking chain necklace with an anarchy medallion. When a taxicab arrived, I asked the driver who he was picking up. He told me a guy named Jerry, so I told him I was going to give him a ride instead. I paid the driver for the fare, then went and sat back in my car.

  Fifteen minutes later, a white guy exited the gates of the prison, and as he was walking with a ghetto strut, I recognized it was Jerry. He was a lot older than the pictures I had of him; he was now in his late thirties. I exited my car and leaned against it while smoking a cigarette as he made his way through the parking lot while looking around for his ride. When he came close enough to where he could see me, I nodded in his direction as to say ‘what’s up’, and as I expected, he walked up to me and asked if he could borrow a smoke.

  I handed him one. “No problem, dude.”

  “Cool.”

  After he took a long drag, he blew smoke out of his mouth, then sucked it back through his nose. While the dude was trying to be cool, I asked, “Here visiting someone?”

  “Naaaw, just did hard time,” he replied with a look as if he was trying to come across as a badass.

  “Cool.”

  “What about you?”

  “Just here to pick up someone, but gonna head the fuck on. Got better shit to do than hang around this joint.”

  He flicked his cigarette butt. “It doesn’t look as if I have a ride. Mind if I tag along with ya?”

  “Let’s roll.”

  When he got in the car he noticed there was a big bag of weed stuffed next to the console and several six packs of beer sitting on the rear seat. When he was done scoping out all the goodies, he looked at me like a kid in a candy store. “Looks like I picked the right ride, baby.”

  When I nodded towards the beer he didn’t hesitate to grab one, and as he chugged it like a teenager at a frat house I shifted the car into drive, power braked for a few seconds, then burned rubber out of the parking lot. “You ain’t gonna want no part of my world. This ride will take your ass straight to hell.”

  He nodded his head and cut his eyes at me as he tried to act cool.

  I turned and looked at him. “I’ll just drop you off somewhere safe.”

  “Dude, I’m down with the shit. I ain’t plannin’ on being no fuckin’ productive society motherfucker like them parole board bitches think. All I cares about is causin’ some fuckin’ chaos for some motherfuckers. The big house ain’t nutin’ but a thang. Shit, three meals a day and a roof over my head. Fuck, better than havin’ to flip patties at Mc-Fucker’s. Just making this a field trip to motherfuckin’ payback land.”

  After listening to his ramblings for several miles down the highway, and two beers later, I knew that the woman’s life and her kids’ lives could be in jeopardy as she predicted. I also knew he could just be blowing off steam, or just trying to act like a badass. I needed to find out what his true intentions were. “You got what it takes to kill someone?”

  He opened his third beer. “Hell yeah! I’ll get medieval on someone’s ass.”

  “Reeeally? How medieval?”

  He chugged the beer, then tossed the empty can out the window. “Shit… I…. I’ll mess someone up.”

  I lit a cigarette. “Shit. You got me in the mood to fuck someone up now.”

  He threw his feet up on the dash. “I’ve got someone in mind if you’re serious.”

  “Who?”

  “My ex-bitch and her sorry ass son.”

  I flicked some ashes out the window. “How medieval we gonna get?”

  He pulled his feet from the dash, and as he leaned towards me he had a very serious look on his face. “Slit her throat. And as she gasps for air I will piss on her face.”

  I looked over at him and started laughing.

  He leaned away, and with an aggravated tone said, “What the fuck is so funny?”

  Now that I had a gut feeling he was serious about getting revenge, I popped in a CD of Metallica, and as the song Seek and Destroy played I said, “You don’t know shit about revenge.”

  He laughed in a smart-ass way. “Then show me how it’s done because you’re apparently so skilled.”

  “I looked over at him for a few seconds, then nodded my head. “You’re on. But it isn’t as easy as you think. You just can’t go in half-assed and unprepared if you want to get away with it.”

  “Then explain it?”

  “I have a twenty-step system. So, pay attention.”

  He turned sideways and faced me.

  “Step one; investigate. Stake
out and learn absolutely every possible thing about your victim. You want to make sure you have the right person and they are truly deserving of what you’re going to bestow on them. They have to be a real lowlife that is a parasite to society.”

  “She is.”

  I pulled a revolver out from under the seat and handed it to him. “Step two; always be prepared for absolutely anything that could possibly arise at any time, any place.”

  “I am now.”

  I pulled a full-face mask out from the center console and tossed it into his lap. “Step three; wear a disguise. Master the art, and make it so authentic looking that you could fool your own mother.”

  “That’s weird, but okay.”

  We had driven to the crappy part of town, and as I slowly cruised down a street where thugs and hookers hung out I said, “Most of these people are lowlifes. Some are just down on their luck. Pick one.”

  He got real excited, and several blocks down he pointed out a lady who was walking down the sidewalk carrying a grocery bag. “Yeah. She’ll do.”

  “Why her?”

  He grabbed his crotch. “Why not? She looks like easy pickens.”

  “How do you know she deserves it?”

  “Who gives a fuck?”

  “You didn’t listen to step one, pal.”

  He became a little cocky. “What, you just all talk? I’ll nail that bitch. I don’t give a shit.”

  About that time a cop passed by and I could tell by his facial expression that we interested him, so I took the next left turn, and before we had a chance to disappear I looked back and noticed he had made a quick U-turn. Without hesitating I got up to the thirty miles an hour speed limit, and about two blocks down I saw that the cop had turned down the same street. I could tell by the way his car was speeding up that he planned on pulling me over, so I made the next turn onto a two-lane highway and showered down on the throttle. When I hit fifty, I flipped a yellow switch on the dash and injected the engine with nitrous, which accelerated the car to a hundred and thirty within seconds.

  Jerry was real excited and was waving his pistol around as if he was ready for a showdown, but I ignored him and concentrated on driving. I usually don’t do foolish shit that will draw attention to me, but that’s what I get for trying to fuck with Jerry. I had almost two miles on the cop and I could see his lights flashing in the distance. I knew he was already radioing in the pursuit, and because I had enough distance on him I took the next exit, then turned down an alleyway. Just in case he picked up my trail, I flipped a blue switch that was mounted with other switches in the dash and engulfed the alleyway with a very thick cloud of smoke. This would serve two purposes; if the cop did come down the alley it would slow him down due to a lack of visibility, and it might also get him to stop and investigate, thinking it was something on fire. I also have the option to release hundreds of hollowed spikes that stand up right in the road, but I usually don’t use them unless I am being tailed closely so I know I won’t waste them. When I reached the next road, I took another right and a couple of blocks down I took a left. A mile or so further I entered a freeway and brought the car up to the speed limit, and because I could take one of my hands off the wheel now that I didn’t have to drive aggressively, I did a channel search on my police scanner and turned on my GPS. When the scanner finally located the shit I was involved in, I learned the cop had been advised to back off due to the high rates of speed during the pursuit.

  Jerry was full of piss and vinegar. “Man, that was fuckin’ awesome. You showed them.”

  I lit a cigarette and took a couple of long drags to calm my nerves. “Fifty-fifty chance they will call off a pursuit because they don’t want to risk danger to others, but we’re still not in the clear. There will be an A.P.B. out on this car, so were going to have to get out of Dodge.”

  He patted the dash. “Shit yeah, this bitch will fly.”

  I smiled. “Like I said in step two; be prepared for anything at anytime. I modify all my cars to give me a little advantage just in case.”

  “Fuck yeah. That’s what I’m fuckin’ talkin’ about.”

  He was having a good time as we cruised down the highway, and as he looked at all the colored toggle switches that I had installed in the dash, he pointed to one that had a skull. “What the fuck does this one do?”

  “It ignites enough explosives to blow us and this car sky high.”

  Jerry pulled back his finger and had a confused look on his face. “You’re just fucking with me.”

  “Nope.”

  He reached for the switch. “Let’s see what it does.”

  I quickly pulled out a switchblade, flipped out the blade and, without hesitating, jabbed it through his hand. He screamed out as he pulled his hand back while the blade was still protruding out his palm. He was grasping his wrist and staring at his blood and the knife as I said, “You’re a fucking idiot! Don’t you ever doubt what I am capable of doing!”

  He gagged as he pulled the knife from his hand, and after he tossed it on the floor, he pulled out the revolver that I had given him and pointed it at me. “I’ll fuckin’ kill ya.”

  I reached over and backhanded him across the face.

  He became very angry and yelled out while still pointing it at me. “You’re fucking dead!”

  I looked at the gun. “That’s a Ruger Black Hawk single action revolver. You have to cock the hammer first.”

  He cocked the hammer. “I’ll do it!”

  “Well, what are you waiting for?”

  He pointed it at me for a few more seconds, then he lowered the hammer and put the gun back into his waistband. “You’re fucking sorry. Look what you did to my hand, you fucking asshole. You’re lucky I don’t put my foot up your ass.”

  I looked over at him as he was wrapping a piece of cloth around his hand. “Look under your seat.”

  He was still whining about being stabbed as he bent down to look, then his angry facial expression changed to an ‘oh shit’ expression when he noticed several pounds of explosives that was secured under his seat. When he sat back up, he didn’t say a word as he looked at me with a disturbed facial expression.

  “First off, I only take out lowlifes that deserve it. Also, I am not a cop killer, and I’m not going to prison. Like I said earlier, this ride will take your ass straight to hell.”

  He leaned back in his seat. “I’m still down with the shit. So, let’s go get a lowlife.”

  I nodded towards the back of the car. “Pull the back seat forward. I’ve modified it so I could have access from inside the car, which is part of step two.”

  He was being very attentive now and he was absorbing everything that I was saying, and when he crawled into the back and pulled forward the rear seat he yelled out, “What the fuck.”

  I laughed. “That’s step four; be inconspicuous. Your victim shouldn’t have a clue until it’s too late.”

  He crawled back into his front seat and looked at me with disbelief. “Who in the fuck is that?”

  “Someone who deserves what’s coming to them.”

  A few minutes later, we arrived at a warehouse that was way out in Bumfuck Egypt, and after I cut a lock and opened an overhead door, I got back in my car. “Step five; find a very secluded place that you have already staked out to bring your victim to.”

  I drove into the abandoned warehouse, and after I parked, Jerry and I shut and secured the door. While he followed me back towards my car, I pointed across the building to a door located on top of a mezzanine. “Step six; have an alternative escape route and a backup plan. That door up there leads to a lower rooftop, and on the other side there is a ladder that goes to the ground. Two hundred yards to the north is a storm drain that runs under a set of rail road tracks. A hundred feet past that is a wooded area where I’ve hidden a motorcycle.”

  He stopped in his tracks. “You got to be fuckin’ kidding me.”

  I turned around. “Like I said in step two, always be prepared for absolutely anything that
could possibly arise at any time anyplace.”

  When we approached my car, I opened the trunk and pulled a lowlife out onto the concrete floor. He was tied up and gagged with duct tape, so he was only able to flop around and moan as I dragged him across the floor. When I reached the center of the building, I stopped and kneeled on top of the man’s chest, and as I cut his arms lose Jerry asked, “Who is he?”

  “His name is Chris. He’s a child molester that I found on one of those sex offender websites.”

  “What are we going to do to him?”

  “Nothing more than he deserves.”

  He started to speak again, but he stopped as he watched in disbelief as I nailed Chris’ right hand to the floor using concrete nails while continuing to hold him down with my knee. When I was done with that hand, I pulled his other arm away from his body so both of this arms were being stretched outwards, and as I held his hand to the floor I drove a couple of nails through it as well. Jerry was speechless as I stood up and wiped blood from my hammer with a rag. “Step seven; disable your threat.”

  “Dude. You could have simply left him tied up.”

  “Where’s the fucking excitement in that?”

  Jerry just stood looking dumbfounded.

  I did my hands to gesture, what the fuck.

  He remained silent.

  I tossed my hammer on the floor, then kneeled down and ripped the duct tape from Chris’ mouth. Jerry started to ask why I removed the tape, but he stopped when I began sewing the man’s mouth closed with a needle and some thread.

  When I was done, he stepped forward and gazed at Chris’ stitches. “Fuck, dude. You already had his mouth taped. Why….”

  I interrupted him. “What the fuck is exciting about duct tape? And besides, that’s step eight; silence your victim. It’s a lot more painful to rip out stitches than it is to pull the tape loose.”