The complete “A Glimpse into Hell” series - 5 books, 195 chapters, 1700 pages, 600K words of pure gore
Page 70
“He’s in the hospital with a severe infection, as if you really care.”
“I care about how he treats people. Tell that fucker I’ll be watchin’ his ass.”
“Okay, I’ll make sure I relay that to him.”
“Don’t be sarcastic, Jim. You know he got off easy.”
Jim looked at Pat through a window in the door. “If you say so. That was fucking sick what you did to him.”
“Better than you having to use the adjective of gruesome or sadistic. But I do reserve that kind of stuff for, you know, the sorrier pieces of shit. And by the way, how is Steve?”
“He’ll recover.”
“Tell him I’ll be watchin’ his ass as well.”
“Where’s Mr. Carter?”
Seth looked at Wyatt as he was standing next to him. “Here with me.”
“Have you harmed him?”
“Not at all.”
“You need to let him go.”
“Maybe, but for now I’m going to make him hang out with me for a little while longer.”
“Is he your hostage?”
“I’ve told him that he has no choice but to do what I say, and he knows if he escapes I will hunt his ass down.” Seth winked at Wyatt.
“Are you in the area?”
“Pat’s house, at the moment.”
Jim shook his head. “The Petersons have gone through enough. I’m not going to send a team over there and upset his neighbors over your shenanigans.”
“Your choice. But you’re making a mistake, like as usual.”
“Listen, we need to talk in person.”
“We did back at the Miller Building.”
Jim gritted his teeth. “Yeah, but that will be the last fucking time I fall for one of your tricks.”
“Sure, pal. Whatever you say. How’s Thomas working out? He seems a little eager.”
“Listen, he’s just a young punk. You have no beef with him.”
“Why would I? You know the kind of assholes that I have a problem with. They’re the same ones you should be concerned about getting off the streets instead of wasting your time and resources chasing my shadow around. I’m getting tired of doing your job, Jim.”
“My job is to follow the law. What you’re doing is…”
Seth interrupted. “Hey, Jim, we got way off track. I was just calling to check on Pat.”
Jim was a little irritated. “Let’s do this in person. I can set it up where it’s just the two of us. You won’t have anything to fear.”
Seth laughed. “Fear? I have absolutely no problem meeting you anywhere any time. What’s the worst thing that can happen? Prison? A needle in the arm? That’s if I’m taken alive. You have more to fear than I do, Jim. I’m willing to press the button. Are you?”
Jim knew what Seth meant; he wasn’t going to be taken alive, even if that meant blowing himself up and everyone around him. He knew if he ever had the chance to sit down with him, face to face, that Seth would be rigged with explosives—he had insinuated that in past conversations. “We don’t have to let it come to that. If you decide to consider my offer, just let me know and I will make it happen.”
“I have some things in the works that might surprise you. We’ll be discussing that fairly soon in fact.”
Jim was trying to hold back his anger. “Tell me how to get John out of the box.”
“What box?”
“Don’t fucking play games with me! The glass box that is booby-trapped.”
“Oh, that one. That thing can’t be opened without terminating its parasite. I designed it so I don’t even have the ability to do it once it was activated.”
Jim could feel his blood pressure rising. “That’s my partner you’re talking about.”
“What would you do with him anyway if you got him out? It’s not like he could be of any use any more.” Seth laughed. “No, I got it. You can get one of those backpack type papooses and can carry him around so he can watch your back.”
Jim was livid. “Listen here, you damn lowlife, I will kill your ass! You perceive yourself as some kind of fucking hero with justified actions. John didn’t deserve what you did to him.”
“I’m not going to get in a debate regarding who deserves what, but if you ever call me a lowlife again I will make it my life’s mission to rip out your fucking tongue and sew it to your bunghole.”
Jim knew Seth was serious. He took a deep breath and regrouped. “My priority is to get John out of that contraption. Tell me what I need to do.”
“Have patience and all will be revealed soon.”
“We don’t have time to wait.”
“Sure, we do. Hey, Jim, I need to let you go. I have to take care of something.”
“Wait. Can I talk to Wyatt?”
“Sure, here he is.” Seth handed Wyatt the phone. “It’s Jim.”
Wyatt took the phone. “Jim, its Wyatt.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Is Skull nearby?”
Wyatt was standing back, watching Seth pry open Pat’s safe with a crowbar. They were in Pat’s house. “He’s busy at the moment, but yeah, he is close by.”
“Then just respond with a yes or no.”
“Okay.”
“Are you close to Atlanta?”
“Seth has already told you what he wants you to know. I don’t want to cause any trouble. I’m going to hang up now.”
“No, wait.”
“Bye, Jim.” Wyatt hung up the phone.
Seth was filling a duffel bag with money. He looked at Wyatt. “Seth?”
Wyatt looked confused. “You calling me Seth?”
“No, you said my name over the phone.”
Wyatt’s eye got real big. “Oh, shit. I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“I know. The idiot probably didn’t catch it anyway. If he did, it was about time he got a big break.” Seth walked out of Pat’s bedroom and into the living room. He stopped in his tracks, shaking his head as he looked at an oil painting that was hanging above a fireplace mantel. “What the fuck!” He looked at Wyatt. “Check out this creepy shit.”
Wyatt didn’t know what to say as he looked at a large oil painting of Pat standing on a golf tee. He was wearing a goofy looking pair of checkered golf knickers with colorful socks that went to his knees, a lime green polo shirt and a matching checkered golf cap. He was holding a golf club while looking slightly to the left. Seth reached up and took the painting down. “I have a special place for this.”
Wyatt laughed. “Your torture chamber?”
Seth started to speak, then thought for a moment. “Hell, I didn’t think of that.” He looked at Wyatt and smiled. “You’ve definitely come a long way since the hotel room.” Seth looked at the painting. “No, making those assholes stare at this would be way too cruel and unusual, even for me. I have a better idea.” He looked at Wyatt. “Grab the bag of golf clubs over there and let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Wyatt grabbed the clubs and followed Seth out the door. When they got in the car Seth adjusted the mirror and checked his makeup. He was still disguised as a dark skinned, long-haired man. He looked at Wyatt and noticed the golf clubs were sitting in front of him. “You could have stuck them in the back seat.”
“I was in a hurry.”
Seth started the car, then peeled out. Wyatt looked back. “You could have left a black mark on his driveway.”
The car came to an immediate halt, then backed up. Seth started power braking. Within a few seconds, smoke began bellowing out behind the car. “Is that better?”
“Are you crazy? Someone is going to hear this.”
The car fishtailed as Seth let off the brake. “I bet there’s a mark now.”
Wyatt sat forward as they took off down the road. “Why in the hell did you do that?”
“It’ll piss off Pat every time he comes home.”
“You’re crazy.”
“You’ve already said that.”
“So now what?”
/>
“We’re going to drop off the money, then head to the hospital.”
“Drop it off where?”
“Probably the Salvation Army or a church.”
“Why?”
“Payment to society for Pat’s behavior.”
“Why don’t you keep it?”
“Don’t need it.”
“Do you ever take money from the lowlifes?”
“Sure. It can be expensive doing what I do. Guns, ammo, disguises, fuel, motel rooms, gadgets. It all adds up.”
“Do you ever feel guilty? It’s kind of stealing.”
Seth looked over at Wyatt. “When the cops stop taking people’s shit, I will stop.”
“What do they take?”
“The law allows them to confiscate property when someone is convicted of a crime. It’s known as policing for profit and law enforcement agencies use it to bolster their budgets. Haven’t you ever watched the show, Cops? They are always taking money and vehicles from dumbasses that are caught with drugs. The cops use that money and property to put back towards their crime fighting budget, so I do the same.”
“What determines if you keep or give it away?”
“Most of the lowlifes that I go after are broke asses and there is no money. If there is a decent amount, and if there is a victim involved, I will usually give it to them or their families.” Seth looked at Wyatt. “I do have ethics after you peel away all the vengeful and sadistic shit that I do to these lowlifes.”
“Speaking of lowlifes, you got pretty upset when Jim called you one.”
“I know I do some horrible shit, but I only do it to the ones who harm innocent people. Outside of that I try to be a decent person. I know that sounds hypocritical, but I have never fucked over or harmed an undeserving person.”
“I have gotten that impression. That’s why I haven’t tried to run. I trust you. You turned out to be an okay guy.”
Seth frowned. “Don’t get too gay with the mushiness.”
Wyatt shook his head. “It does take a little getting used to your humor. But don’t worry, I’m not into dudes.”
“Good, for a second there I thought you wanted to play with my penis.”
“Nope. You’re mistaken.”
“No, seriously, if I wash it real good, would you suck it?”
Wyatt shook his head. “Hell no!”
Seth laughed. “You dirty dick sucker.”
Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Nice. Any more juvenile jokes?”
“If I let you suck it, would you tell anyone?”
“N… I almost said no. I’m not falling for your dick jokes any more.”
“So, if we were in a jungle and I got bit on the head of my dick by a snake, would you…”
Wyatt interrupted. “Your ass is gonna die.”
Seth laughed.
“It ain’t gonna happen again.”
Seth lit another cigarette. “Okay, pal. Let’s say you and I were crawling through a narrow cave when the roof collapsed.”
“It’s not going to happen.”
“The rocks fell on me as I was lying on my back.”
“Nope, not happening.”
“Separating my head from the lower half of my body. You’re behind me, and the roof also caved in behind you, so you’re trapped as well.”
Wyatt was shaking his head. “You’re just fucked, my friend.”
“Water is dripping from the roof on my side, and I can catch the drops with my mouth.”
“At least we won’t be thirsty.”
“Oh, but you will. The water is only on my side of the rocks. My spine had been damaged, so I won’t be able to urinate.”
“Then you will be shit out of luck.”
“And so will you—you’re gonna die from dehydration.”
“So how does this story make me say I would suck your dick if we’re both doomed?”
“We don’t have to be. I have the water, but can’t piss. You need water. The solution is simple.”
Wyatt was shaking his head. “Don’t even say it.”
“You could suck the piss from my dick, getting your needed fluids while saving me from urinary retention.”
“Then I guess we’re both gonna die.”
“Really, you would let us die?”
Wyatt smiled. “Okay, fucker. What would you do if the tables were turned?”
“I would shove a catheter up your pee hole if I wanted to live.”
“Oh, I see. It’s your story, so you can make up stuff as you go along. I also have a catheter. Problem solved.”
“So, you carry around catheters?”
“Do you?”
Seth reached into his jacket pocket and pulled one out.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Why in the fuck would you have that?”
“It’s an older jacket. I was wearing it when I was fucking up a pervert.”
“Then I’m wearing an older jacket with one, and I would use it like a straw.”
Seth laughed. “In a roundabout way, that would be the same as sucking a dick.”
Wyatt got a little mad. “You did it too.”
“I didn’t say that I would suck on it like a fucking straw.”
Wyatt just stared at Seth.
“I would let the piss puddle on the ground where I could lap it up. Big difference there, chief.”
“I still didn’t suck it.”
Seth laughed as he tossed the catheter into the back seat. “That’s enough dickin’ around.”
“Damn it! I still didn’t suck it.”
“Whatever you say, pal.”
Midnight Knob Goblin
Seth pulled up to a church. He handed Wyatt a bag. “Take the money and put it in the drop box.”
Wyatt looked confused. “What drop box?”
Seth pointed towards the side of the building. “That one. And take the clubs with you.”
Wyatt got out and went over to the drop box. He put the bag inside and set the clubs on the ground. When he got back in the car he looked concerned. “What if someone steals the money?”
“Not our problem.”
“How much was it?”
“A lot.”
“How much is a lot?”
“I didn’t count it, but guessing by the number of stacks I would estimate over a hundred thousand.”
Wyatt’s eyes opened wide. “What if they call the police?”
“Still not our problem.” Seth pulled onto a highway.
“Where are we going?”
“To the hospital.”
“To find Pat?”
“To find Jim.”
“Which hospital is he at?”
“Atlanta Medical Center.”
“How do you know that?”
“Pat’s wife had a note on the refrigerator telling the maid they were there.”
“What are you planning on doing?”
“Not sure yet. It all depends on if there are any cops hanging around.”
Wyatt looked out the window. “I’m sure there will be.”
Thirty minutes later Seth and Wyatt arrived at the hospital. Seth stopped at the far end of the parking lot. “They will be looking for two people, so jump in the backseat and lay down.”
Wyatt climbed into the back and hid. “What are you going to do?”
“Going to see if I can find Jim’s car.” Seth started driving down a row of parked vehicles.
Wyatt was worried. “I hope you’re not going to do anything bad, like plant a bomb or something?”
Seth laughed. “I don’t want to harm the fucker.”
“Then what do you have planned?”
The car slowed down. “Hang on for a second. I think I found it.” Seth pulled into a parking space and got out. Wyatt was nervous as he hid. He heard the trunk open and shut. A few minutes later Seth got back in the car.
“Can I get up?”
“Wait just a little longer until we’re in the clear.” Seth pulled out of the parking area onto a street. “O
kay, you can get back up here.”
Wyatt climbed into the front seat. “What did you do?”
Seth had a serious expression. “Something horrible that I am now having second thoughts about.”
“Oh no… I thought you didn’t want to harm Jim. What did you do?”
“Something very bad.”
Wyatt was starting to panic. “Tell me what you did.”
“I put the painting of Pat in the driver’s seat.”
“And, what else did you do?”
“That’s it.” Seth looked at Wyatt and started laughing.
Wyatt smiled. “You’re right, that is horrible.” He started laughing as he thought about Jim’s facial expression when he finds the painting. “Hey, wait a second. How do you know it was his car?”
“Process of elimination. There were two Atlanta cop cars parked next to each other in the parking lot. They were the only law enforcement vehicles there. I knew Jim would be driving an unmarked car, and possibly close to them. A row over I found a plain black car with steel wheels, extra antennas, emergency lights in the grill and a municipal license plate; typical of an unmarked police vehicle.”
“Okay, that indicates it was an unmarked car, but that doesn’t mean it was Jim’s.”
“I wasn’t sure either, until I looked into the backseat and saw a duffel bag with a name tag that read, Agent Arnold.”
“Who is that?”
“He’s a young agent that was just assigned to Jim’s team.”
“Why would Jim be driving a car with a municipal license plate? He’s FBI.”
“Jim doesn’t like driving for long distances and will usually take a plane if he can—he thinks it gives him an edge since he thinks I don’t fly. He sometimes uses a vehicle from the local police department, but most of the time he uses a rental car, thinking that makes him incognito and I won’t notice. Knowing that, I have to pay attention to everyone around me. I’ve seen him driving around in all sorts of vehicles, from a bright red convertible to an older pickup truck. He can be slick at times, but I do the same to him. It can be an interesting game sometimes.”
Wyatt opened his notebook. “You think this is a game?”
“With Jim, it is. Fucking around with him breaks up the monotony and adds a little excitement to what I do.”
“Have you always played games with him?”
Seth looked over at Wyatt. “Not that much at first, but more so in the last few years.”