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

by Garrett, Wade H.

  He remained quiet.

  “I know you’re awake—you’re still holding the rope. If you don’t respond I will shove that rebar that is sticking out of your ass all the way through until it comes out your stomach.”

  “I hear you.”

  “I’m glad you decided to join us. Now the rope you’re holding does the same thing to Randy, but instead of being gutted, his head will be crushed, especially since he reminded me that one rock wouldn’t be sufficient.”

  Randy heard what I had said and blurted out. “That’s not what I said.”

  “Potato potahto.” I started to walk off, then turned around. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot.” I walked back over to Randy and threw a rope over a limb that was above him. I tied one end to the trap that was clamped around his dick and balls, then pulled on the other end and tied it off. The rope was pulling his hips slightly upwards. He was in so much pain that he was screaming out the side of his mouth while hanging onto Steve’s rope for dear life. I looked down at him. “Hush! You’re making too much racket.”

  “Oh my God! It’s killing me! Please make it stop. I beg you. I will do anything you ask.”

  “Stop making so much noise, asshole!”

  He was closing his eyes tightly. “Okay, okay. But why are you doing this?”

  “I told you I was going to hang you by your package if you lied.”

  Steve yelled out, “Please don’t do that to him. He’s going to let go of the fucking rope.”

  “Then for your sake you better give him plenty of encouragement.”

  Even though they were both yelling out for help, the stitches in their mouths were keeping it to a low roar. I knew no one would be able to hear them unless they were close by, but it was doubtful anyone would be out this far. I picked up my bag, then addressed them. “It’s been a pleasure, fellas. And by the way, we’re still playing truth or dare. This is the dare part, and I dare either of you to release your rope.”

  They both screamed out for me to come back as I walked off, so I did. Over the next hour I burned Kokopellis all over their bodies while daring them to release their rope. When I finally walked off neither of them yelled out for me to come back.”

  Seth stopped. “We’re here.”

  Wyatt looked around, noticing there were ropes hanging from the trees. “I don’t see their bodies. Someone must have found them. We need to get going.”

  Seth picked up the end of a rope. “Hold up. This has teeth marks on it.” He showed Wyatt. “Something did find them, but not a person.” He squatted down by the log. “This is what I stuck under Randy’s head.” He pointed to the surrounding ground. “There’s human hair everywhere. The rock crushing his head wouldn’t have done this. Something tore his scalp apart.”

  “What do you think did it?”

  “Animals.”

  “You sure?”

  Seth walked over to where Steve had been hanging and kicked the leaves around, revealing a piece of rebar. “Here’s the rebar that I had shoved in Steve’s ass.” Seth found the gut-hook knife. “Here’s the knife. This confirms that no one found them.”

  Wyatt looked scared. “How do you know that?”

  “Crime scene investigators would have taken these. They would have taken everything.”

  Wyatt was relieved. “You’re right.”

  Seth noticed some of the ropes were pulled away from where the men had been hanging and were stretched out towards the reservoir. He followed the ropes until he came to the end of one. He held it up to show Wyatt. “Look, it’s been chewed through.” He tossed it on the ground and followed another one to its end. He found it to be chewed through as well. Seth pointed. “Look. There are pieces of rope that head that way.” The pieces led him to the reservoir that was around three hundred feet away. “Alligators must have taken what was left after the smaller varmints ravaged their bodies.”

  Wyatt looked at the water. “Nice. Now you know.”

  “Sure do.”

  “What next?”

  “You want to go fishing? I know of a place where we can rent a boat and all the equipment.”

  Wyatt thought for a moment. “Sure. A break sounds nice.”

  “Let’s get to hoofin’ it. We have a long hike ahead of us.”

  *******************

  It was midnight when Jim’s flight landed in New York. The trip from Dubois to New York had taken less than seven hours. When Jim and his team got to the hospital, the medical staff and engineers had already examined the drawings. An electronics expert named Dennis approached Jim. “I have good and bad news.”

  Jim took a deep breath. “Let me guess; the drawings aren’t going to be any help.”

  “Yes and no. Most of it was inaccurate and would have actually caused this contraption to activate. But I think we’ve found a way to communicate with John, but it’s risky.”

  Jim’s eyes lit up. “What have you come up with?”

  “We can burn away the tinted surface from the inside section of the glass with a laser. That will remove the mirrored effect that John is seeing.”

  “You sure the tint can be burned away?”

  “We believe it’s just automotive tint. The extreme heat should make it melt.”

  “If that’s possible we should be able to communicate with him through written dialog.”

  “That’s our plan.”

  “When can you start?”

  “Now. I already have the equipment here.” Dennis showed Jim a table mounted laser. “We borrowed this from the technical school down the road. We will be able to adjust the power so the beam will only melt the tint and not harm John.”

  Jim and Ron were nervous as Dennis focused the beam towards the glass. A few seconds later Jim noticed the tint started to bubble, then a hole appeared. “It’s working.”

  After a few more seconds the hole had increased in size due to the tint shrinking. Dennis shut off the laser. “That should be enough.”

  Jim looked through the hole. “He still can’t see me.”

  Dennis dimmed the lights in the room. “That should help.”

  When Jim looked through the hole again, John started shouting, “Virgil! Redmond! Redmond, Oregon. Virgil!”

  Jim motioned with his hands for John to stop yelling as a warning light flashed. “Don’t Yell John—you’re setting off the sensors.”

  John had gone from docile to hysterical as he glared at Jim. “Redmond! Virgil Taylor! Redmond!”

  Suddenly the fuses under John’s skin ignited. Jim was screaming as he beat on the glass. “Get this open! He’s being burned to death!”

  Ron came running over with a fire axe. He struck the glass. To his horror, it didn’t break. “It’s safety glass!” He hit it again, only making a small hole in the first layer. Suddenly the inside of the box erupted into flames. Ron yelled for everyone to evacuate the room. Jim watched in horror as the flames engulfed John. Dark, thick smoke was exiting out the top through a vent hose as the flames were being fueled by an oxygen tank that was mounted on the inside. Ron grabbed Jim’s arm and pulled. “We have to go! The oxygen tank could explode!” Jim refused to leave.

  Suddenly the harpoons fired, putting John out of his misery. Jim faced away as a tear ran down his cheek. Ron put his hand on his shoulder. “There’s nothing you or anyone else could have done.”

  Later that day John’s remains were taken to the morgue to be examined. Even though Jim was distraught, he refused to take time off. When he got back to the hotel, he researched the name Virgil Taylor and found out that he was a convicted child molester that lived in Redmond, Oregon. Jim knew the lead would bring him closer to finding Skull, but it had been at a huge cost. Ron and Thomas didn’t say a word as they rode with Jim to the airport. Their destination was Redmond, Oregon.

  The Anarchist Vigilante’s Cookbook

  It was late in the evening when Seth and Wyatt made it back to the car. They were both dripping with sweat. When Seth got in the car he looked at Wyatt. “Let’s get a motel
room. We can go fishing in the morning.”

  Wyatt was already reclined back in his seat. “No argument here. This vigilante shit is a lot of work. I’m freakin’ exhausted.”

  Seth lit a cigarette. “Me too; getting old sucks.”

  Wyatt laughed. “Maybe it’s the cigarettes.”

  “Probably.”

  “That was cool that you did that for James, but weren’t you worried that he could have been questioned by the police if Randy and Steve had been found?”

  Seth pulled out of the wooded area and took off down the road. “Why would I be worried? He wasn’t involved.”

  “He might have found out who you are.”

  “Chance I was willing to take—those fuckers deserved what they got, and James probably would have thought the same.”

  “Society in general believes that criminals should be punished for their crimes, but most people feel that what you do is way beyond reasonable.”

  “Of course. That’s why I have job security.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I’m starting to understand it, though.”

  Seth looked at Wyatt. He was intrigued. “Why?”

  “I guess it’s because of your stories. Nothing really bad happens where I’m from, but I have seen plenty of heinous crimes committed against innocent people in the news. I never really thought about how I would feel if it was my loved one who had been victimized. I had the same attitude like everyone else; bad things only happen to other people and I didn’t give a shit as long as they didn’t happen to me or my family. I now get angry when I think about how these assholes have no remorse for what they have done, or how they didn’t care about their victim’s suffering. So, fuck them. I’m glad that you give a little payback to these kinds of assholes.”

  Seth was almost teary eyed. “That’s good that you understand how I feel. That’s why I wasn’t worried if James found out—he has the same attitude as you do now. You would be surprised by the amount of people that would actually like to fuck someone up. Just wait until you finish your story about all this and see how many people will be foaming at the mouth while they’re reading it, thinking about how they would like to do some medieval shit to someone’s ass.”

  Wyatt laughed. “You might be onto something. I should turn this story into a how to book. I could call it…” Wyatt wrote in his notebook. “The Anarchist Cookbook.”

  Seth shook his head. “I’m not a fucking anarchist. They believe in anarchy. And besides, there’s already a book named that.”

  Wyatt crossed out Anarchist, then wrote in Vigilante’s. “I got it. The Vigilante’s Cookbook.”

  “That’s better. And I’m sure people will like it because they’re sick and tired of all the parasites that plague our society.”

  Wyatt laughed. “Yeah, you just make other’s fantasies come true, in a roundabout way.”

  “You know it.”

  Wyatt was feeling better now that he had cooled off in the air-conditioning. “How much further to the motel?”

  “Probably a couple of hours.”

  Wyatt looked out the window and noticed they were driving through a town. “Why? There’s one coming up.”

  “I want to stay in Texas.”

  “Are we still going fishing in the morning?”

  “Yes. But on the Texas side of the reservoir. Is that okay?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Wyatt flipped a page in his notebook. “Like I said earlier, that was cool what you did for James. Have you helped out any of your other friends?”

  “Nothing quite as drastic as what I did to Randy and Steve, but I did fuck up a crooked contractor.”

  “What did he do?”

  “His name was Daryl Sanders and he was the owner of Built Right contracting. My buddy Allen owned an electrical contracting business. He did some work for Daryl on a new theater. Daryl fucked him out of his money right along with the other subs, then filed bankruptcy so they couldn’t do shit about it. Allen had filled me in on the details, and come to find out this wasn’t the first time this fuckhead had done this. It was his MO to fuck over people, file bankruptcy, then start a new business so he could do it again.”

  “How is that legal?”

  “You already know the answer to that.”

  “Because our system protects criminals.”

  “See? You’re a great student. I knew you wouldn’t disappointment me.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “You’re getting more like me with each passing mile.”

  “I might have changed my views a little, but there’s no way that I would ever participate more than just asking questions.”

  Seth shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe.”

  “Not maybe. And like you said earlier, it’s job security for you since no one else is crazy enough to do it.”

  Seth laughed. “See, you’re getting the dark humor part down as well. And who said anything about being crazy.”

  Wyatt laughed. “Now tell me about this Daryl fucker and what you did to him. I’m anxious to know what being a crooked contractor gets ya.”

  “A missing hand and dick.”

  Wyatt’s eyes opened wide. “How in the fuck did his dick come into play?”

  “Simple really. I wanted this fucker to pay Allen, so I snuck to his house one night and hid in his car. When he came out the next morning, I forced him at gunpoint to drive to an abandoned warehouse. I cut off his hand and stuck it in a cooler filled with ice. I told him he would get it back when he paid everyone that he had fucked over. I didn’t specify who or the job because I didn’t want him or the police to know that Allen was the reason I went after him. I told him that he needed to hurry so the doctors could sew his shit back on. I also made it very clear for him not to go to the police because I would be watching and he wouldn’t like the consequences.”

  “Let me guess. He went to the police?”

  “As fast as that fucker could drive.”

  “What a stupid ass.”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m sure the cops were all over that. They probably gave him twenty-four-seven protection after that.”

  “You’re exactly right. They assigned an officer to guard him until they could find his attacker.”

  “That’s about right. They didn’t give a shit that he had fucked people out of their money.”

  “Right again. That’s how it works here.”

  “So how long was it before you were able to catch him again?”

  “About seven hours later.”

  “How was that possible?”

  “By doing the unexpected. I explained this a few days ago.”

  “I remember. So, what happened?”

  “I waited for the fucker in his house. He was bitching about his hand to the officer as they walked in.”

  “What did you do to the cop?”

  “Shot him with a tranquilizer dart, then cut off Daryl’s dick with a pair of scissors.”

  “Why fucking scissors?”

  “Seemed funny at the time.”

  Wyatt shook his head. “I don’t want that damn image in my head.”

  “He wasn’t happy either, especially when he saw that I tossed his sausage next to his severed hand in the cooler.”

  Wyatt looked at Seth like he was crazy. “Why were you still carrying around his hand?”

  “Encouragement.”

  “Encouragement? You just cut off his penis with scissors.”

  “Yeah, but that way he could see that I was keeping them on ice and he still had a chance to get his hand and dick sewn back on.”

  “So, let me guess, he paid what he owed?”

  “No, he turned out to be broke.”

  Wyatt had a surprised expression. “Oh shit. What did he do with all his money?”

  “Fuck, I don’t know. I’m not his accountant.”

  “Did you give them back to him?”

  “Hell no. He was still a thief.”

  “What’s he doing now?”

 
; “Definitely not jacking off.”

  “No shit, Sherlock. I was curious if he was still contracting?”

  “Not after that. Everyone had found out that he got his dick cut off and he was too embarrassed to show his face.”

  “How did anyone know? I wouldn’t have said anything if it had been me.”

  “It was on the news.”

  “How did they find out?”

  “I told them.”

  Wyatt shook his head. “That was just adding insult to injury.”

  “It was also to ensure that he wouldn’t stay in the contracting business, at least in that area. I heard a while back that he was living in government housing.”

  “Great. Another asshole collecting handouts.”

  “At least he’s not making babies like the rest of the lowlifes.”

  “Yeah, but this one kind of backfired on you. Now he’s living off the taxpayer.”

  “Do you think I went overboard?”

  “You should have just beaten the shit out of him or something.”

  “What if it was you that he stole from, and the financial burden that he created caused you not to be able to provide for your daughter. Would you still be okay with an ass beatin?”

  Wyatt thought for a moment. “You’re right. I should have thought of that. Fuck him. That’s what he gets for being a thief.” He looked at Seth. “You should have killed his ass afterwards so he wouldn’t be a burden to the rest of us.”

  “We can still do it. I know where he lives.”

  Wyatt shook his head. “Oh no. I’m just here for the story.” Wyatt noticed Seth seemed mad. “Don’t be upset with that.”

  Seth looked over at him. “I’m not. The asshole in front of me spit out the window and it hit the windshield. I’d like to make him clean my car with his tongue.”

  “I know what you mean. I can’t stand it when someone does something like that.”

  “No, seriously. If you weren’t with me I would chase his ass down and make him clean this entire car with his fucking tongue.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. I’ve done shit like that before.”

  Wyatt laughed. “I’m sure you have.”

  “I just do what others would like to do. Especially when it comes to inconsiderate assholes. For example, a few months ago, when I was in Las Vegas, this fucktard spit a big loogie right in front of me as I was walking down a sidewalk. We got into a confrontation when I called him out on it.”