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

by Garrett, Wade H.

  On the next Monday the 23rd, I called the eleven people, plus the one in McAlister, and scheduled them on the following Thursday morning between 7 and 8 AM. It was early, and because most of them worked in this group, it would allow a little more time before their families realized they were missing, and I knew their co-workers and employers wouldn’t be as concerned.

  On the morning of the 24th, which was on a Tuesday, I left Dallas in a throwaway car and headed to Nevada. On the morning of Wednesday the 25th around 2 AM, I was in Las Vegas dragging Richard, who was one of the parole commissioners, out of his bedroom window. Thirteen hours later at 3 PM I was in Denver Colorado cracking Mr. Stoneroad over the head while he was starting his car. Eleven and a half hours after that, at 2:30 AM on Thursday the 26th, I was in Tulsa, Oklahoma injecting a sedative into Brian’s calf as he was sleeping in his recliner. Four hours later at 6:30 AM I was back in Dallas at the makeshift studio. It only took forty-six and a half hours to make the round trip from Dallas to Las Vegas, then to Denver, Tulsa then back to Dallas. I had a box truck parked at the studio, so I moved the three parole members from the throwaway car over into the back of it. Then I got rid of the car.

  The DFW group started showing up a little before 7 AM. When each one of the twelve arrived, I took them in the back and simply knocked them in the head with a club. I tied them up with duct tape, injected them with a sedative, then tossed them into the box truck that was backed up against the rear door. The whole process was an aggressive and ballsy move, but I was able to abduct the fifteen in thirty hours and they were all snug as a bug in the back of the truck.”

  Dicky started laughing.

  Seth glared at him. “What the fuck is so funny?”

  He smiled. “You’re definitely not a math professor.”

  Seth shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

  “First, you said it took forty-six and a half hours to abduct them. Now you say it took thirty hours.”

  Seth smiled back. “You’re definitely not a listening fuck. I said the round trip took forty-six and a half hours. The first abduction was after the initial eighteen-hour drive from Dallas to Las Vegas. And I stayed at the studio until 8 AM when the last person showed up. That’s thirteen, plus eleven and a half, plus four, plus one and a half hours. That’s thirty hours from the time I abducted Richard until the last one named Marsha came strolling in the studio at the last minute, around 8 AM.”

  He looked down.

  “You better hope I don’t give you a comprehension test later like I did with Brian.”

  He mocked Seth under his breath. “I got your comprehension test.”

  “I’m going to have so much fun with you later.”

  He looked up. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Sure, you didn’t. Now back to the story. Before I left the makeshift studio, I cleaned up to ensure I wasn’t leaving anything incriminating behind. I also planted hundreds of different hairs. The hairs were from different barbershops that were located in about fifty different cities across the country. Over the years when I would travel, I would take hairs out of barbershop trashcans, and anytime that I see one when I’m in another state I will collect it for just such an occasion. I left the furniture and décor because I had bought most of it from a few Goodwill and Salvation Army drop-off sites when I was disguised as a piece of white trash. A few of the items that I had left behind were also from Judge Terryhole’s house and the cabin where I had found Dickhead Terryhole. To create a little confusion, I stuck a sign on the front door that read Sorry for the inconvenience. The photos will be taken at the Southwest Royal Center Mall this afternoon. Please come to the second entrance to the right of the main entry. This would give me a little more time when people came looking for the missing individuals, and it would cause confusion and a goose chase as they searched, because Southwest Royal Center Mall is a combination of two malls; the Southwest Center Mall and the Royal Shopping mall. They would think their co-worker, friend or family member was simply lost due to the inaccurate directions that some idiot wrote, and it would take a little time before they realized something else had happened.”

  Seth sat down next to the cell. “As I’ve mentioned a few times before, I do everything that I can to prevent being caught. The police have no idea who I am; my fingerprints aren’t even on file. I couldn’t care less if they think every lowlife’s disappearance or death is of my doing; in fact, it’s kind of fun jacking with the law. I have absolutely no pattern except that I only deal with the scum of the world, and I always leave my mark somewhere at the crime scene. I hope with all the marks that I’ve left through the years the police have enough common sense to know what kind of scumbags that I go after and they won’t accuse me of things I didn’t do.”

  Dicky was sitting on the floor with his back against the stone wall as he listened to Seth’s story, and when Seth paused to take a drag from his cigarette, Dicky popped off, “You’re going to get caught eventually because it takes only one slipup.”

  “Maybe so, but you’re going to scream a thousand times between now and then. And how many damn times are you going to mention that. And I know, I know. Maybe you have a chance to be rescued. If that keeps you quiet while I tell my stories, then fine. As soon as I’m done I’m sure the scumbag patrol will break down my front door.”

  Seth looked over at Mr. Goodman as he was fucking around with his mask. “Hey.”

  Mr. Goodman looked over at Seth.

  “Do you want somebody finding this shithole?”

  The man kind of shrugged his shoulders as he looked over at the open end of a steel pipe sticking out the wall.

  “Yeah, you’re ready for this to be over. I guess burning to death would be better than the shit you’re going through.”

  Dicky looked troubled.

  Seth looked at him with an aggravated look. “You had your chance to know, so keep wishing someone tries to find you.”

  He didn’t say a word as he held his head down while gritting his teeth.

  “Hey, Gene Simmons, let’s get back to the story.”

  Dicky had a pitiful look on his face as Seth made fun of his tattoo.

  “After I left Reed’s Knock you in the Head Custom Photography, I stopped a little way outside of the city and removed the fake ‘T.B. Arnold’s Construction Co.’ signs that I had mounted on the sides of the truck with another set that read Orsek’s Carpet Service. The signs were five feet tall by ten feet long, and they were made of paper that was glued to a sheet of Wilsonart Laminate. They simply attached to the sides of the truck with self-tapping screws, and they were easy to roll up, store and dispose of. I also swapped out the fake license plates with another set. I had to move quickly before someone realized the individuals were missing and alerted the others. But first they would have to learn they were abducted, put two and two together, then figure out that it was related to the Woodall Case, which would take a long time because the eleven from the Dallas-Fort Worth area and the one from McAlister had served on numerous committees with different individuals, and Mr. Lawson wasn’t part of Woodall’s case. The other three were out of state and that would take time as well to put the pieces together. Most likely there would be a general warning issued to all individuals in the judicial field, but that type of approval would take a while, but in any case, I moved quickly. During my original investigation, I learned that Scott, who lived in Waco, always ate a late breakfast in a park while feeding the ducks. I was dragging him up through a trap door that was in the bottom rear section of the truck around 10 AM. When I entered Temple, I hid the box truck in a storage facility and gave everyone a quick injection. I used another throwaway car from that point on.

  At 1 PM I was in a parking garage in downtown Round Rock snagging Kathy while she was exiting her car and heading back to work after lunch. Around 1:45 PM I was in Austin dragging Blackburn through the rear entrance of his office. At 4 PM I was in San Marcus in Mr. Goodman’s house waiting for him to return home from pla
ying golf.

  Dicky frowned.

  “Go ahead and say it.”

  “Sounds like you simply got all those people without a hitch.”

  “Story time can’t last forever. And no, it didn’t go without a hitch. During my original investigation, Kathy always went to lunch by herself and came back at 1 PM, but that day she had two co-workers with her, so I had to shoot both of them with a paralytic agent using my dart gun. Richard’s wife was a light sleeper and I had to knock her out right along with him. My dart gun misfired with Blackburn, and the short struggle caused his secretary to run out the front door and take off across a parking lot screaming. The sedative I injected into Brian’s leg took a while to react, so I had a brief struggle with him as well, which awoke his boyfriend. The boyfriend had managed to dial 911 before I was able to sedate him, and as I was leaving the area, a cop passed by with his lights on heading for the house. And speaking of cops, I had to shoot a security guard in the face with my dart gun when I was walking around Goodman’s house, which was located next to a fancy golf course. His subdivision was protected by security guards that roamed around on golf carts. The carts were battery operated and very quiet. I didn’t even know he was behind me until he spoke. I had to make several appearance changes to the throwaway car to evade detection by the cops because they were looking for it in the Austin-Round Rock area. The car I used before on the way to Las Vegas started having mechanical issues. I had to do some minor repair work on it in an Advance Auto Parts parking lot. So no, it didn’t go without a hitch”

  Seth did a hand gesture that indicated okay. “Need more details, or can we move forward?”

  Dicky remained silent.

  Seth took a deep breath. “When I got back to the storage facility in Temple, I moved all of them into the back of a pickup truck that had a camper shell. I gave each one another sedative injection to ensure they would remain asleep. I cleaned up the box truck and throwaway car, then disposed of them. When I got home, I backed up the truck to the rear entry and dragged the parole board members into my house. I planned on sticking them in…”

  Suddenly, Dicky charged the bars and grabbed one of Seth’s feet as he was propping it up against the bars. Seth’s chair slid out from under him and he fell to the floor as Dicky pulled his leg between the bars. Seth looked up the same time Dicky pulled his knife from his waistband and jammed it into his leg. Seth started laughing as he laid on his back. Dicky pulled back the knife and stared at it. Seth laughed hysterically as he looked at him while he held a rubber dick with a bone handle. Dicky was shocked. Somehow Seth had replaced his bone knife with the fake one without him knowing.

  Mask of Horror

  Seth was still laughing as Dicky released his leg. He knew he had made a terrible mistake, so he eased back into his dark corner and sat down. Seth stood up and set his chair upright, then spun it around and sat in it backwards. “After I got the group back to my house, I planned on sticking them in a stone room that is located off the tunnel that enters this chamber. At the time, I didn’t want them to see any of the horrifying things until I could decide exactly what do with them. The stone room isn’t as disturbing as the chamber; it’s actually disturbing in a nice way. It has a bright red couch and a bright blue one, a couple of Scooby-Doo bean bag chairs, a yellow table covered with toys, and the walls are painted in several bright colors. Cartoon characters are painted on all the walls and ceiling, and there are a couple of shelves lined with stuffed animals. I had built the room for interrogation purposes. In some cases when I have doubts, the room allows me to hold a person without letting them see, smell or hear what’s around the corner. If I was wrong about them, I can simply gas the room and put them back where I had abducted them. The only thing they would be able to tell the police is they were locked in some type of Disneyland room, which would make their story seem a little fishy, and it would also make the cops think they had smoked a rock or something.

  The next morning the group had awakened and they were very upset and confused. While I watched them through a one-way mirror, I spoke over an intercom and told them there was a stack of questionnaires on the table. And that everyone must fill one out. I told them to push the completed sheets under the door. And when that was done I would explain why they were here. The group yelled and became disorderly instead of doing what I had asked.

  A week later, and after everyone had to either shit on the floor or in their pants in front of their peers, they decided to fill out the questionnaires. Over the next several days I studied the forms to determine who I was going to send into the chamber. The questionnaire asked questions about different cases where a criminal was paroled, including Woodall’s case, and if that criminal killed, raped or molested again after he was released. It also asked questions about cases where criminals have been denied parole. The form asked if they were present at the time of the decision, and which way they voted. The form stated it didn’t matter what their vote was because I could be a pissed off family member of the victim, or the pissed off family member of the criminal who was denied parole. After I read over their questionnaires, I decided that every one of the sorry bastards needed to be in the main chamber. All of them had voted to release Woodall, and they all had voted at one time or another to release other pieces of shit, who then went out and committed other horrible crimes when they were set free. It really irritated me how these far-left fuckers would rather kill an unborn child than keep a murderer or child molester behind bars for the duration of his or her sentencing.

  The next day I gassed the cartoon room, and when all the members were out cold, I dragged them into the main chamber. While they slept, I divided up the nineteen members between three cells, and as I waited for them to regain consciousness I did a few things around the chamber. Several hours later, most of the group had awakened, and they were each responding in a different way to being locked in a cell in the middle of a torture chamber. Some cried, some screamed for help, others sat on the floor with their heads down while shaking with fear, and a few were hostile. Some were covering their private parts because of the embarrassment of being nude in front of their peers.

  A couple of days later, I explained to the group why they were here and I gave each of the nineteen people a choice to live or die. Instead of giving me an answer, they yelled and threatened for me to release them. The individuals I bring here usually show fear the first time they see the inside of the chamber, but the board members were very aggressive because they were a group. That’s why I have that comical sign on the wall that reads, ‘Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups’. After about fifteen minutes of listening to the unruly crowd, I became irritated and entered one of the cages with a large club covered with spikes. After I ravaged the face and head of a couple of the more aggressive ones, the others ran to the opposite corner. While I kept the group at bay, I dragged the most hostile and loudest-mouthed person out of the cell. The remaining eighteen people, including the less aggressive ones, held onto the bars of their cage as they yelled, cursed and threatened me. Some were screaming for me not to harm Richard, who was the one I dragged out of his bedroom window in Las Vegas, and while they acted like savages, I laid Richard’s unconscious body on a worktable. After I secured him to the wooden tabletop with rope, I stuck his head, face up, into a large vise that was mounted on the end. When he finally awoke ten minutes later, I tightened the vise on his head until his skull cracked. As he screamed, I inserted a pair of dental calipers in his mouth, then sewed his tongue to the bottom of his mouth so it wouldn’t get in the way. The group watched in horror as I started drilling through the front of Richard’s teeth with a three-sixteenth inch drill bit. He screamed as loud as a person could possibly scream, and his eyes looked like they were going to explode. The muscles in his neck were bulging out like a bodybuilder’s as he strained with intensity. His heart was pumping so hard it looked as if it was going to tear out of his chest. He passed out after only drilling a few teeth, so I stop
ped until he regained consciousness. I only drilled while he was conscious, and he eventually endured the pain of about twenty of his teeth being drilled. I also pulled out one of his upper and lower molars on the same side. Now that all his teeth had a hole through them, I took some one-eighth inch copper tubing and weaved it in and out through the holes. The tubing in his upper teeth was separate from the tubing in his lower teeth. I cut the ends of the copper short where they would be inside his mouth, then secured polyethylene tubing to each of the copper pieces using a fitting.

  I also connected one end of the upper and lower sets of tubing together to create a series flow. The other ends exited his mouth. To prevent him from biting the tubing, I ran them through the gaps where I had pulled his teeth, securing them with dental glue. The poly tubing is more durable, and its flexibility is needed between his mouth and the medieval-looking close helmet that I had built, which was designed to keep him from grabbing the tubing. I pulled the helmet over his head, then connected the other end of the polyethylene tubing to the inside portion of the brass fittings that are mounted to the mask portion of the helmet. The outside part of the brass fittings are connected to braided lines that run across the chamber to a control system and a galvanized tank. I also melted gold around the copper tubing where they went through his teeth to fill in the gaps—this was to reduce tooth decay and to increase heat and cold transfer.