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

by Garrett, Wade H.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why did you want me to help you punish Brad?”

  “Because I knew you would…” He caught what Seth was getting at. “You’re right about everything.”

  “Finish what you were going to say.”

  “I knew you would make him suffer in ways I couldn’t.”

  “That’s right. And that includes the psychological shit, including dicks, balls and asses.”

  The Vigilante’s Handbook

  Kenneth understood what Seth was trying to tell him. “I got it. And I do want to make him pay for what he did in the most gruesome way that a sick and twisted fucker like yourself can come up with.”

  “Now you’re talkin’.”

  “Just give me a little guidance here and there.”

  “That’s a deal.” Seth thought for a moment. “I know what you can do. Make him disembowel himself.”

  “You said I shouldn’t kill him so soon.”

  “It won’t. He can live a long time with his guts laying on the floor. Only an infection would be the issue, but we’re not worried about that.”

  “How do I make him?”

  Seth sat in an old chair, then propped his feet up on a box. “You can figure it out.”

  Kenneth released one of Brad’s hands, then started to hand him a knife.

  Seth intervened. “Hold up! If you give him that he will attack you with it. Or if the fucker was smart he would cut his own throat.”

  “Then what….”

  “Here.” Seth handed him a pizza cutter. The kind with the wheel.

  “But this isn’t sharp.”

  “He can roll it back and forth until he opens himself up. Plus, it will take longer, making it gross as fuck.”

  Kenneth held it out. “Cut your guts out, asshole.”

  Brad wouldn’t take it. Blood was oozing out of his mouth as he mumbled. “Ew can go uck ewself!”

  “Take the fucking cutter!”

  “Ick it up ew ass!”

  Kenneth got aggravated. “Dammit!” He looked at Seth. “I can’t get the fucker to do it.”

  “No one in their right mind is going to cut out their own guts without the proper motivation. That’s where his dick will make a great motivational tool.”

  Brad was filled with rage as he yelled, “Uck ew! Ew ain’t ouching my ick!”

  Seth walked over to Brad and shoved an ice pick in his throat, causing him to gag.

  Kenneth held his hands out, palms up. “What the fuck did you just do?”

  “Punctured his voice box so I don’t have to listen to him mumble.”

  “Oh. I thought you were trying to kill him.”

  “Nope. Just get tired of hearing gibberish sometimes.”

  “Then why did you have me cut out his tongue?”

  “I get tired of hearing these assholes talk too.”

  “You’re awful cranky.”

  “Just bored.”

  Kenneth laughed. “I bet you hate sitting on the sidelines?”

  “Yes, I do, but this fuckhead is all yours.”

  “I’ll fix your boredom.” Kenneth looked around the room to find something he could use. He found an old cabinet filled with vials. Some had fluid left in them and some just had a tar looking substance where the liquid had dried up. Most of the labels had faded or fallen off. He picked one up that had a dark and moldy liquid in it. He also found an old syringe with a corroded needle. He walked over to Brad and showed it to him. “How would you like this shit injected into your cock?”

  Seth smiled. “Great idea. That even grosses me out. No tellin’ what that shit will do to his dick.”

  Brad looked worried as Kenneth filled the syringe with the old fluid. His eyes were big and he was shaking his head while making a weird moaning sound.

  Kenneth looked at Seth. “Come hold his arm so I can inject this in him.”

  Brad started reaching out while moving his fingers.

  Kenneth was confused as he looked at Seth. “What the fuck is he doing?”

  “He wants the pizza cutter.”

  “I haven’t even done anything to him yet.”

  “Unfortunately for him, you found one of his phobias.”

  He looked at the needle. “He’s that fucking scared of needles that he’s willing to cut open his stomach?”

  “Or he’s going to use it against you.”

  Kenneth looked at Brad. “If you try to use this on me I’m going to inject this shit in your eye also.”

  Seth stood up and clapped. “Fuckin’ A! That’s what I’m talkin’ about!”

  Kenneth handed it to him. “Don’t get stupid or I’ll….”

  Brad swung the cutter at him as he made a grunting sound.

  Seth walked behind Brad and grabbed his arm, then made him drop the cutter. He looked at Kenneth. “Tie a string or something around the base of his dick.”

  Kenneth found an old pair of shoes and removed one of the shoestrings. He was hesitant in touching Brad’s penis. “I don’t want to fondle his junk.”

  “I wonder what Roxie was thinking as this fucker cut off her head.”

  He wrapped the string around Brad’s penis and started tying it. “You sure in the fuck know how to push my buttons.”

  “Make sure it’s tight. And I mean tight. To the point you think it’s going to cut it off.”

  When he was done, the base of Brad’s penis was being squeezed so tightly it looked like a joint in a link of sausages, or a twisted joint in one of those balloon animals. Brad was violently jerking around while making a muffled howling sound. Kenneth noticed his penis was swelling up and turning blue. “Check out his fucking dick. I think it’s going to pop.”

  “I see that.” Seth forced Brad’s head down. “What do you think of that, pal? If we don’t remove that shoelace soon, your dick will die from a lack of blood.”

  He made a loud “aww” sound.

  Seth pulled his head back and held it tightly. “Pump that shit into one of his eyes.”

  Brad screamed as Kenneth shoved the needle into his left eye. The plunger was hard to push due to the fluid being thick and moldy. His eye was getting larger and larger as he pumped it in. By the time he was done, his eye was protruding past his eye socket to the point his eyelid couldn’t close over it. Seth spoke into his ear. “Look in the fucking mirror.”

  Brad had a grimace of terror as he looked at his eye. The whole thing was black from the old liquid and it looked like it was going to pop. A tear ran down his cheek as he moaned.

  Seth let him go. “You have two choices now; you can slice open your belly and Kenneth will remove the shoelace, or let your dick fall off. Also, we need to get that shit out of your eye before the fluid leaks into your bloodstream. It might go to your heart or brain and kill you. It could also cause severe pain in the process.” Seth held up the vial and looked at it. “No tellin’ what this shit is.” He noticed his eye was bleeding. “Whatever it is, it’s bad. Check out your eye again.”

  Brad looked horrified as he noticed his eyeball was oozing the black fluid. It seemed to be making his tissue melt.

  Kenneth handed him the pizza cutter. “I would get to cuttin’ if I was you.”

  Brad was panicking as he looked at his penis in the mirror. He tried to cut the shoestring with the cutter, but it was buried too deep inside his skin. He dropped the pizza cutter, then tried to untie the knot with his fingers, but he couldn’t do it with one hand.

  Seth yelled at him. “Cut your fucking stomach open and stop screwing around with your dick!”

  Kenneth handed him the pizza cutter. “Don’t drop this again.”

  Brad started shaking his head as he tried to speak.

  Seth glared at him. “I don’t give a fuck what you have to say. Stop procrastinating and get to slicing.”

  He held the blade next to his eye, contemplating if he should cut it out.

  Seth was pumped up with excitement. “Do it! Cut that fucker out! You don’t want blood pois
oning!”

  He lowered the cutter.

  “You fucking pussy!”

  Brad was desperately trying to speak.

  “I told you I don’t give a fuck.” Seth pointed at his dick. “And I wouldn’t wait too long. Your shit is turning black.”

  He had desperation on his face as he tried to say something.

  Kenneth looked at Seth. “What the hell is he trying to say?”

  “Who gives a shit?”

  “I’m curious what’s so important.”

  “Just the same old crap. He’s wants to say how sorry he is and wants us to give him another chance. And he’ll make up shit just to get out of this. It’s the same old song and dance and I don’t care to hear it.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  “I’ll bet you a hundred bucks that’s what it is.”

  “I’d take you up on that bet, but he can’t speak, so it’s pointless.”

  “Sure, he can.” Seth pointed to his bag. “There’s an electro-larynx in my bag. Strap it to his neck.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You know, the vibrating gadget that people with vocal cord damage stick to their throat so they can talk.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one.”

  “It makes them sound like a robot.”

  “Oh, yeah. I know what you’re talking about now.” As he dug through Seth’s bag, he was shaking his head. “Why do you carry all this shit?” There were all kinds of weapons, torture devices, tape, glue, ropes, costumes and things he didn’t even recognize. He pulled out a rubber chicken. “Why in the hell do you have this?”

  Seth shrugged his shoulders. “You never know. It might come in handy.”

  He pulled out a rubber thing, and when he realized it was a dildo he dropped it. “What the fuck! I don’t even want to know.” He finally found the electro-larynx. “Found it.” He taped the device to Brad’s neck. “There you go, ass wad. Now, what was so important?”

  “I’m… I’m… What is this? Is that me? Hey! Hey! What’s going on? Why do I sound like this? Can y’all hear this?”

  Seth laughed. “Yes, and you sound like a fucking retarded android.”

  “Make it stop.” He didn’t like the way he sounded.

  “Just be glad you can talk again. And what were you wanting to say?”

  “If you give….”

  Seth put his hands out. “I don’t give a shit. Say it to Kenneth.”

  He looked at him. “I’m very sorry for what I did, and if you give me another chance I will make it up to you.”

  “And how in the fuck are you going to do that? Can you bring Roxie back?”

  “I will give you a lot of money. I know where my dad hid some. It’s all yours if you let me go. And I won’t say anything.”

  “Money? I don’t give a shit about that.”

  “I’ll be your slave. Anything you want done I will do it.”

  Seth laughed. “Now that’s a new one. No one has ever offered to be my slave.”

  Brad started crying. “I’m serious. If you give me a second chance, I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

  Kenneth was frustrated. “Seth pegged you right. He knew you were going to say this kind of shit.” He picked up a machete. “Start cutting open your stomach or I’ll chop your fucking leg into pieces!”

  “No, no, no! Please don’t do it!”

  Kenneth swung the blade downwards at an angle, cutting his left thigh to the bone. “Do it now, asshole!” He swung again, cutting another angled gash that also went to the bone. “Do it!” He swung again, and again.

  Seth stopped him. “Hold up for a moment!” He tied a tourniquet around Brad’s leg as high as he could get it, connected him to a pump with a tank-full of blood, then injected him with a large dose of clotting agent. He even gave him an injection of adrenaline to keep him from passing out. “All right. Now you’re good to go.”

  “What the hell is that for?” He pointed to the tank.

  Brad interrupted. “My leg is hurting really bad.”

  Seth put his finger across his lips. “Hush! I’m talking.” He looked at Kenneth. “I usually use IV bags full of blood, but in this case, he’s probably going to need this setup. The tank holds fifty quarts of blood, and the pump maintains a pressure of three PSI, which is a little higher than the normal systolic pressure the heart puts out. That way his body won’t run out of blood.”

  “That’s creative. Did you learn about that in the vigilante’s handbook?”

  “Of course.”

  Kenneth started to swing the machete, but paused. “Does that have his blood type?”

  “Duh. Page seventy-two in the book explicitly talks about the importance of using the correct blood type.”

  Kenneth shook his head, then started to swing again, but paused. “Is there really a book?”

  “Yes.”

  “Bullshit. You’re just fucking with me.”

  Seth went to his bag and pulled out a book, then handed it to Kenneth. “Check it out for yourself.”

  The title read, The Vigilante’s Handbook: How To Fuck Up Scumbags. The cover had a picture of a man holding a severed head. He looked closer and noticed it was Seth in a disguise. “What the fuck is this?” He flipped to the first page, noticing Seth Coker was the author. He flipped through the pages. They were full of pictures and descriptions on how to torture people. “This must be a fucking joke.”

  “Does it look like a joke?”

  Brad spoke up again. “Please stop ignoring me.”

  Seth glared at him. “If you interrupt our conversation again I’m going to sew your mouth shut.”

  “But you’re acting like I’m not here.”

  “I said shut the fuck up!”

  Brad looked down.

  Kenneth was confused as he looked at the book. “I don’t understand. Why would you write this?”

  “Because people like reading about sick and twisted shit.”

  “Who in the hell would publish it?”

  “It’s self-published, and anyone can do it.”

  “Why would you want to? You’re setting yourself up to be busted.”

  “I only discuss methods of torture, medical procedures, drugs, tools of the trade and how to get away with it. It’s not like I put my personal information in there.”

  “You got your fucking picture on the front cover. And you used your real name. I think that qualifies as personal information. I’m surprised your ass hasn’t been busted yet.”

  “The fucking cops already know my name, and I’m wearing a disguise in the picture.”

  “I recognized you.”

  “That’s because you know what I look like, sort of.”

  “What do you mean sort of? I’m looking right at you.”

  “Not everything is what it seems. Page twenty discusses that and how to master the art of disguises.”

  “You tellin’ me you’re wearing one now?”

  “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. And that’s why I don’t get busted. Now get back to what you were doing.”

  Kenneth handed him the book. “Do you actually sell those?”

  “Of course. I already told you people love gore.”

  Kenneth shook his head, then started hitting Brad’s leg again with the machete.

  Seth laughed as Brad screamed. “Now we’re paying attention to ya. How ya like that?”

  After about twenty blows, so much of Brad’s flesh and muscles had been cut all the way around his thigh they were hanging like a banana peel over his knee. With each whack, his femur bone became more and more exposed. Brad was in so much pain he couldn’t think straight as he screamed at the top of his lungs. He finally couldn’t take the pain anymore and knew what he had to do. The pizza cutter was laying on the floor. He shouted, “Give me the cutter!”.

  Seth handed it to him. “You’re kind of a day late and a dollar short, pal. Why’d you wait until you’re all fucked up.”

  He couldn’t grab it fast e
nough. “This ain’t funny!” He started rolling the pizza cutter back and forth across his abdomen.

  Kenneth backed away while holding the blood-covered machete. “Get them fuckin’ guts out before I start on your other leg.”

  Brad had a look of desperation as he ran the cutter across his abdomen. He was having to push really hard just to get it to leave a mark. Kenneth pointed the machete at him. “Stop fucking around and cut yourself open.”

  “I’m trying!”

  Kenneth raised the blade. “I’m fixin’ to start whittling on your other leg.”

  He was desperately trying to cut himself open. His entire abdomen was covered in so many red lines it looked like he had a road map on him. “I’m trying, but it’s not sharp enough! Please don’t do it!”

  Seth held out another pizza cutter. “This one might work better.”

  Brad tossed his and grabbed it. He ran it across his abdomen with the same intensity he had done with the other one. His eye opened wide when he noticed some of his intestines were protruding out a gash that ran from one side to the other. He threw the pizza cutter to the floor and tried to hold in his intestines. “Oh shit!” He looked at Seth with a worried expression. “Please help me put them back in me!”

  “Jump up and down a few times. Maybe that will pop ‘em back in.”

  Brad was panicking as he thrust his stomach up and down, but to his horror, his intestines started falling out. He grabbed at them, but they were slipping through his fingers. “Oh my God! Please make them stop!”

  Seth laughed. “Slick move, Ex-lax.”

  Brad was horrified as his intestines continued to unravel out of him. They were piling around his feet. “Please make them stop! I beg you! Please help!” He jerked at the chain that was securing his other arm above his head. “Let me loose! I need to put them back in!”

  Kenneth looked at Seth. “This is fucking nasty.”

  “Or fucking beautiful.”

  “You need help.”

  “Roxie would have thought it was beautiful.”

  “Uh… Okay. Maybe it’s satisfying.”

  “Beautifully satisfying.”

  “If you say so.” He picked up both pizza cutters. “Why did this one work, but not the other one?”

  “I sharpened the wheel and locked it in place so it couldn’t spin. It acted just like a razor-sharp knife when he slid it across his flesh.”