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

by Garrett, Wade H.

  He went from cursing to screaming when a hook pierced his flesh, then he started jerking his hips around to prevent Barry from inserting another hook. Barry got frustrated, so he grabbed his penis and pulled down on it.

  I laughed. “And you thought wearing his underwear was bad.”

  He shoved in another hook as he forced Carl to hold still. “I don’t have a fucking choice, do I?”

  “No one is making you fondle his junk.”

  “Fuck you!”

  The veins in Carl’s neck were bulging out and his body was covered in sweat as he endured the pain. Desperation was written all over his face as he twisted his neck, looking at Barry, shouting, “Let go of my fucking dick! You’re ripping it off!”

  Barry didn’t let up. “Fuck you too, asshole.” He stuck in another hook.

  Carl was screaming at the top of his lungs, so I walked over to see what was so painful. Barry was bending his dick in a sharp angle for leverage as he stretched the fuck out of it. I grabbed my crotch. “Damn! Are you tryin’ to tear it off?”

  “Fuck you.” He leaned over so he could make eye contact with Carl. “Hold still or I will.”

  I pointed at him as he sat on the floor. “Watch your tongue, dickless.”

  “Go sit back on the couch.” He stuck in another hook. “I have shit to do.”

  Carl was breathing heavily and covered in sweat as he rested the side of his head on his arm. He was staring into space and moaning as he endured the pain. Barry stuck in the last hook, then looked back at me. “What the fuck do you want me to do next?”

  “Tie the wires to the nails you drove in the floor. And make sure they have the same amount of tension.”

  Carl was panicking as he looked over his shoulder at me, then Barry, then back at me. “What are y’all going to do?” He made a painful expression. “Oh shit! I can feel him pulling on my nuts. Please make him stop.”

  A few minutes later Barry stood up. “Now what?”

  “Pull the chair out from under him.”

  When he removed the chair, Carl lowered his rear-end into a squatted position, relieving the tension on the wires. “Oh my God! That feels so much better.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “My anus is hurting really bad. Please make it stop.”

  Barry shrugged his shoulders as he looked at Carl. “What the fuck is this? How’s that supposed to be torture?”

  “I was going to have you build a fire under his waist, giving him the choice to tear his sack apart or burn off his dick, but he gave me a better idea.”

  “He didn’t say anything.”

  “He said he wants his anus to stop hurting, so we’re going fix that for him.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. His asshole is destroyed. There is nothing you can do to fix it.”

  “I can fix it from hurting.” I slid the couch forward a few feet. “Get a crow bar and bust through the ceiling.”

  He stood on the couch and knocked a hole in the ceiling. I took the bar from him, then handed him a chain. “Wrap that around the ceiling joist.”

  “Now what?”

  I handed him a pulley. “Hang that from the chain.”

  “Got it.”

  I tossed him a rope. “Feed that through the pulley.”

  When he stepped down I pointed to the kitchen. “Get the broom; it’s in the kitchen.”

  When he came back I picked up one end of the couch. “Stick it under here.”

  The handle of the broom was holding the end of the couch about five feet off the floor. I pointed to the rope that was hanging from the pulley. “Tie it around the couch.”

  I pulled the other end of the rope, taking up the slack, then cut it off where it was about a foot from Carl’s ass. “There’s a large steel ring on the table; bring to me.” I tied the end of the rope to the ring. “Grab a handful of large fishing hooks and some string. Also, get the rectal dilator.”

  “I don’t see the fish hooks.”

  “Blue box.”

  “Got it. What’s a rectal dilator?”

  “It looks like…” I walked over and pointed to it. “That.”

  He tried to hand me the items. I waved my hand, indicating no. “Those are for you. I’ve done my part.”

  He seemed aggravated. “I thought you were helping so I could get done?”

  “I was just bored.”

  He held the items out. “Then you can fucking do it.”

  “I’m not going near his asshole. That’s your job.”

  “You want me to do what?”

  “Stick the dilator in Carl’s ass, crank it open until he rips, then line his pucker hole with the hooks. You can tie the string to the hooks before or after you stick them in.”

  “Why in the hell do you want me to put hooks in his ass?”

  “You’re going to pull out his colon.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve already told you, so his anus won’t hurt him any more.”

  “That’s just going to cause him more pain.”

  “Not from his anus—it will be laying on the floor.”

  “You’re fucking insane.” He shook his head as he stuck the tool in Carl’s anus. “This is nasty.”

  Carl was screaming at the top of his lungs as his asshole was being stretched. Barry turned and gagged. “It’s cracking open and bleeding. It looks like a volcano.”

  Out of curiosity I looked, noticing his anus was as black as charred wood. He was burned so badly that the dilator had cracked open his skin. The cracks encircled his anus and they were flowing with blood. “It does look like a volcano.”

  Barry took the hooks and string to the table. “I’m doing this shit over here.”

  “Make sure you leave the strings three feet long.”

  A few minutes later, he walked up to Carl with hooks hanging from strings. “Hey, asshole, ready to have your ass pulled out.”

  Carl looked horrified. “You can’t do that to me! I can’t take any more pain. I beg you for mercy.”

  Barry started to stick in a hook, then paused as he looked at me. “I need some gloves.”

  “For what?”

  “I don’t want to get shit on me.”

  “Your hands are already covered with Don’s shit.”

  “Whatever, dude.” He started sticking in the hooks, one after another, as Carl jerked his hips around and screamed. When he was done, he tied the ends of the strings to the ring, then kicked the broom out from under the couch. The rope pulled Carl’s ass upwards, causing the hooks below to stretch his nut sack. He was holding himself in a mid-squat position to equalize the tension between his anus and balls. Carl had a grimace of terror as I walked up to him. I leaned against the wall. “You’re in a hell of a predicament.”

  “Oh my God! You’re killing me!”

  “Not really. A human can take a lot of punishment and keep on ticking like Timex, including having their ass ripped out or their ball sack torn apart.” I lit a cigarette. “So which one you going to choose first?”

  He was suffering immensely. “Please cut me loose. I can’t take it any more.”

  “Can’t couldn’t do shit. Now either push up with your legs and rip your sack apart, or squat down and rip your colon out.”

  “Please don’t do this to me.”

  “I’m not doing anything to you. It’s your choice what’s going to happen.”

  “You can’t do this. Please have mercy.”

  “Okay.” I went and laid on the couch. My additional weight caused his sack to stretch to about seven inches and his colon to bulge out like a really bad case of hemorrhoids. Barry was standing off to the side covering his eyes. I flicked my cigarette butt at him, striking him in the side of his head. “Pay attention, fuckhead.”

  Carl was making a howling sound as his legs trembled. Barry looked nauseated. “This is too much.”

  I started throwing my upper body back and forth, causing the couch to bounce. Each time the couch lowered, Carl’s butthole and balls would grotesquely stre
tch. I yelled out, “How’s that for mercy, asshole?”

  He was throwing his head around and screaming at first, then he started gagging when his body went into some type of seizure from the intense pain. Suddenly the hooks ripped his ball sack apart. The couch dropped about two feet as his rear-end flew upwards, jerking his legs straight. Blood was running down the inside of his legs and his anus was now protruding by a few inches. Barry turned away and dry heaved as Carl belted out a pain-filled wail. I cut the rope from the couch, allowing Carl to squat down.

  I pointed. “Hey, Barry, check that out.”

  He noticed Carl’s testicles were hanging out. “Oh my God, oh my God! That’s freakin’ sick. His shit is hanging by some cords.”

  “They’re called spermatic cords, or vas deferens.”

  “Who gives a shit what they’re called. It’s grotesque.”

  I slid the couch back, then pointed to the rope that was hanging from the ceiling. “Swing on this like Tarzan.”

  He had a disgusted look. “Just kill the dude—he’s gone through enough.”

  “Who are you to say when he has had enough?”

  “And what gives you the right to say he hasn’t?”

  “When he chose to stick his dick in a child.”

  Barry tried to climb up on the rope. “I can’t pull myself up—it hurts my groin too much.”

  I tied a loop in the end of the rope. “Stick your foot in that for support.”

  When he stepped up, the rope pulled Carl’s rear-end back into the upwards position. His anus was being pulled out about the same as it was with the couch’s weight. I grabbed Barry and pulled him backwards, then gave him a good push. Each time he swung by I gave him a shove. Carl was on the verge of passing out as Barry swung back and forth as if he was on a swing. Barry started yelling for me to stop when I started pushing him harder—he was almost touching the ceiling. Suddenly Barry went flying across the room as Carl’s intestines came shooting out of his ass like a snake in the can prank. Barry fell onto the table, knocking everything off as he rolled across it before falling to the floor. I could see him lying on his back holding his bandage as he yelled curse words at me. Carl’s body was violently shaking and I knew he was about to pass out. I yelled out to Barry, “Stop lying around and get your ass over here before he passes out.”

  Barry came stumbling over, then leaned forward with his hands on his knees. “You hurt my fucking…” He glared at me. “I don’t even know what to call it, asshole.”

  “Stub or nub.”

  He noticed a large amount of Carl’s intestines were hanging out of his rear-end. They ran from his ass up to the pulley. “Oh shit! That’s fucking gross.”

  “Definitely makes your problems seem trivial.

  “Fuck you! You still cut off my dick.”

  “Before you start bitching and moaning, pull out the slack.” I pointed to Carl’s ass.”

  “You’re fucking sick.”

  I motioned with my fingers. “Get it done before he passes out.”

  Barry gagged, bitched and cursed at he pulled on the slippery intestines. “Why is it so fucking hard to pull out? Aren’t they just in here?”

  “They’re anchored by connective tissue and blood vessels, so no, they just don’t simply pull out.”

  “This is fucking sick!” They seemed to keep coming as he pulled out a foot at a time. He finally got aggravated. “What the fuck! How much is in here?”

  “Intestines are usually around twenty-five feet. Your flying acrobatics show only pulled out about ten feet.”

  “Fuck you! That was sorry.” About that time the intestines stopped coming out. “I think that’s it.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  “Now what?”

  I checked Carl’s pulse. His head was hanging down and he was barely breathing. “He’s on his way to Hell.”

  Barry had a disturbed look. “How can you do such evilness?”

  I glared at him. “Hold up, motherfucker! You think I’m evil for avenging some innocent children?”

  Barry looked worried. “I should have said horrible.”

  “So now I’m horrible for that?”

  He looked down. “I’m just mad because of my penis.”

  “So, what?”

  “So, what? You cut it off. That’s so fucking wrong.”

  “That’s what you get for murdering your wife and blaming me for that shit.”

  He glared at me. “She fucking cheated on me!”

  “And you had cheated on her… First.”

  His eyes opened wide. “No I didn’t.”

  I pulled out my tranquilizer gun. “We’ll see about that.”

  He held his hands out. “Hold up! You’re right. I had been.”

  I holstered my gun. “Sounds like you’re the one with moral issues.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He was worried that something bad was going to happen to him.

  I could see the fear in his eyes. “Chill out. I’m not going to kill you.”

  He took a deep breath. “Now what?”

  I looked at my watch. “It’s about two hours before sunrise. Let’s call it a night.”

  He looked unsure. “That’s it? I can go?”

  “First, I need to remove your belt and bandage your back.”

  “Don’t worry about my back.”

  I opened the cooler and started moving around the ice, then pulled out a beer bottle. I handed it to him. “This will take the edge off.”

  He looked at the cooler, then me. “You had this in there? That could have gotten bacteria on my penis.”

  I laughed. “You’re worried about that while you’re covered in body fluids.”

  He looked worried as he looked down at his stain-covered bandage. “Oh shit! Do you think I’m going to get an infection?”

  I removed the belt. “No—I sterilized your stub.” I could see him holding the neck of the beer bottle tightly. “Just because your belt is off don’t mean I won’t shove that up your ass.”

  He popped the top. “I wasn’t planning on doing anything.”

  “Don’t fuck up now—you’re almost home free.”

  He downed the beer, then tossed the bottle on the floor. “Can I go?”

  “Take off.” When he started for the cooler he passed out. I had laced his beer with a sedative and PCP. While he slept, I loaded him, the molesters and all the items I had brought with me in the back of the camper shell. I doused the inside of the house with gas, set it on fire, then got the hell out of dodge.”

  Nuthin’ But a Thang

  Wyatt was laid back in his seat. He was almost asleep. “Damn! That was a long-winded story.”

  “Sorry about that. But I’m surprised you didn’t ask any questions.”

  Wyatt noticed a large city coming up. It was dark out and the lights were lighting up the sky. “Where’re we at?”

  “Dallas.” Seth looked at Wyatt. “Wow! Still no comments or questions about what I made Barry do?”

  He shook his head. “The fuckers got what they deserved.”

  Seth smiled. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

  He laughed. “Well, maybe one question.”

  “Let me guess; what happened to Barry?”

  “Yep.”

  “The house we had used was several counties away from where he lived. While he was unconscious, I took him to another abandoned house that was on the outskirts of his town. He never saw the outside of the other house, so I sat him on the front porch in a rocking chair. When he awoke, I made sure he saw me pulling a body bag out the front door. He tried to stand up but he was dizzy. “What’s going on?”

  I dropped the end of the bag. “You passed out, so I brought you out here for some fresh air.”

  The bag moved, startling Barry. “What is that?”

  “It’s Rodney. I told you I was taking him with me.” I dragged the bag to the back of my truck, then rolled it over the tailgate and into the camper. Barry was walking down th
e steps. I quickly closed the camper shell so he wouldn’t see the other bodies. I wanted him to think they were still inside the house. I walked to the driver’s door. “Let’s go.”

  He stopped a little way away, looking as if he wanted to run. He remained quiet while standing cautiously.

  “If you run you won’t get your dick back.”

  “How can I trust you?”

  “Really? Like I couldn’t have killed you by now.” I pulled out a gun. “Get your ass in before I change my mind.”

  When he got in I handed him a tow sack. “Put that over your head.”

  His hands were shaking. “Why?”

  “So, you won’t be able to find this house again.”

  He put the sack on. “Please don’t kill me. I did everything you asked.”

  “Chill out, dude, I’m not going to kill you. I just don’t want you to find this house again.” I took off.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “I’m going to drop you off on the side of the road a few miles away so you won’t be able to tell the cops where we were if you decide to get stupid.

  “You’re going to make me walk? I need to get to the hospital.”

  “I have a bicycle in the back I will give you.”

  “Huh?”

  “Hey, it’s better than walking. And something else, do you remember our bet?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Drop the sir bullshit.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “If you don’t keep your end of it what’s going to happen?”

  “You will come find me.”

  “That’s right. And don’t think witness protection will prevent that either.”

  “I know it wouldn’t.”

  “Are you going to mention what happened back there?”

  “I can’t. I was involved.”

  “That’s the right answer. And you need to say that you cut off your dick when you got high on PCP and that you don’t remember how your neck got punctured or how your back got messed up.”

  “Okay.”

  “Or just tell them you had a wreck on your bike, and when you got up your dick was lying on the ground.”

  “Okay.”