Beg For Mercy: A Dark Conclusion

by Lucian Bane

  “No,” she cried back softly. “Not one good day, many good days. You have to be fair in this, to me to you.”

  “I have to be honest and realistic,” he said, standing.

  “Yes, you do,” she agreed, “but you’re not!”

  “You like to see the bright side of things,” he said to her, “I get that, I understand why you do that, there’s nothing wrong with it. But you can’t ignore the other side.”

  She stared at him shaking her head, perplexed. “Who do you think you’re talking to here, Sade? Royalty? You don’t think I have a dark past? You don’t think I have demons that would love to have me back? You don’t think I know how to look both ways before I cross the street, how to see both sides of the coin?” she said incredulous. “How can you be with me all this time, know the fucking shit I’ve survived, in my past – my present, really know me, and act like I’m a fucking air head?” she whispered heatedly.

  Sade took a deep breath, looking down. “I know that you love me, baby,” he whispered. “And you want to be with me more than anything in the world.”

  “No!” she said, pushing him. “This isn’t just about what Mercy wants! This isn’t about what Mercy needs, that’s the thing about relationships, there’s two people in them and you are that other half of this equation. You talk about not seeing the other side, and you,” she pointed at him, “are the one who isn’t looking both ways crossing the road, you are the one not seeing both sides of the coin, you, Sade. Not me. I see clearly. And what about our therapy?”

  “What about it?” he asked, his anger kicking in.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me about it, tell me what it’s done for you.”

  He paced now, feeling like there wasn’t enough air in the room suddenly. “So I had a couple of good experiences, Mercy, do you think that means I’m healed? Demons are gone, slate is clean?”

  “No, I don’t,” she said casually. “Anything of this magnitude takes time. A long time. I should know, remember?”

  He paced now. “And what happens if I slip again? Huh? Are you going to kill me next time? Am I going to decide not to let you kill me and kill you? Huh?”

  She stood there, nodding her head for many seconds. “So that’s it? Do you realize with a mentality like that, there’s no point of even trying? Why are you wasting my time? My body, even?”

  “Because you demanded it, you had to have it, you made me sign a fucking contract, remember?” he roared.

  She jerked back a little with a gasp then finally said, “Well, you know what?” she walked over and stood just before him. “Look at me.”

  Sade met her gaze, feeling like the dirtiest loser.

  “I am so tired of begging your sorry ass, chasing your sorry ass down, tying your sorry ass up. Somewhere inside you, there is a good, and beautiful man. You can believe me, or you can not believe me, but if I were you, I would fucking believe me because I am a pretty smart chic,” she gasped, her words shuddering. “And if you so happen to find this good, beautiful man inside you,” she whispered, wiping her tears. “Come looking for me. But until you resurrect that man. We are done.”

  Sade could hardly breathe as she walked out, leaving him standing there in a swirling mass of chaos, pain, fear, and confusion.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “I need you to look at his file, son,” he’d said in a near regretful tone. “All of it. Don’t skip anything, not one thing, do you understand?”

  Sade’s gut was already in knots as he sat next to Kane on their way to the neighboring island forty-five minutes away. He took the folder from him, thinking he’d be looking at stuff that would help him know how to engage the monster in a professional manner. But the fucked up shit in the file was more a visual diary of a mad man, extremely graphic pictures of children he’d abused, what he did, how he did it, why he did it, when. Just not where. Which was the missing ingredient Kane planned to get.

  Sade fought nausea as Kane rattled on loudly over the surf and screaming motor of the tough fishing boat he’d borrowed. The mid-sized iron giant was made to weather storms with a solid, large holding tank in the belly for tending to their “catch” properly. “I know it’s not easy to see, son, but I can’t have you getting soft on me and forgetting the why’s when I have my way with him, you understand?”

  Kane was right, too. There would be no forgetting, no unseeing these images of children from the age of three to early teens, body parts cut off, maimed, eyes gouged, and sexual orifices burned shut with the sick fuck’s soldering iron. There was no way Sade could ever fully appreciate what was coming to him without seeing the whys as Kane called them.

  All the pent up terror they’d endured at Abraham’s hands started to seem like fun times compared to what he was seeing. He just couldn’t fucking imagine what it was like for these kids to have to endure anything like this. What made him the most sick were that these horrific deaths he was looking at had not come quickly or easily.

  By the time Sade had finished looking through that file, he knew it marked him deep. Felt like he’d lived a thousand nightmares. The suffering in his life suddenly felt like child’s play next to this deranged shit.

  He thought about Mercy again. He’d intended to leave without saying goodbye but she met them at the dock. He assumed she’d done it for her father, except it was Sade she’d made a beeline for and embraced tightly. “Be careful,” she mumbled. “I may be pissed at you, but I love you and I don’t want you to be confused about that.”

  Then she left, not even giving him a chance to say anything back. Not that he’d have known what to say. That he loved her too, was about the only thing he wasn’t confused about.

  And every one of them seemed to buy the “job” story. Going help Larry the fisherman whose crew was shorthanded. The family had to eat and Larry was too proud to take money, so it was find a way to work the nets or they’d all starve. His mother thought it was noble of the man and of Kane to help, while Sade found it stupid, even if it was fabricated. He couldn’t see feeding a family with pride. Seemed like you would use whatever the store accepted in exchange for food—fuck pride. Sade would let them take it out of his ass if he had to feed Mercy and…

  Sade shook his head. It never failed. Every goddamn thought he had always led him back to that. Marrying Mercy. Being a husband, possibly a father, even though she was sure she’d never have kids. There was adoption. There was having animals, there was all sorts of responsibilities. To her, her wellbeing, her existence. Where she lived, how she lived, that she lived, and the quality of all that.

  Just the idea made him nauseated. And it wasn’t the unknowns he feared, it was the knowns, inside him. There’s a beautiful, good man inside you. And when you resurrect him, come looking for me. Fuck, he was going to lose her. He could feel it. He was on a timer now. She’d taken that hourglass and set it on the table before him. Time was definitely slipping away. He could feel it. He was going to slowly lose Mercy, minute by minute, day by day.

  And part of him said good, let it be.

  And another part of him—maybe that little boy at the magic show—said, just close your eyes. And believe.

  If only he knew how to do that.

  “So let’s go over the plan,” Kane yelled.

  Sade gladly turned his attention to him.

  “I’m going to use the Three Tears technique with this fuck. It’s a pretty basic torture routine that involves breaking the human down at three levels. Body, mind, emotions. Only I’m replacing his emotions with a wild card—the spiritual. Every sick thing he’s ever done is rooted in the spirit realm. He thinks I’m his rival, and in a sense, I am, just not to the extent he imagines. Unless God has kept this information top secret from me, then I’m just an average Joe who decided he’s not going to put up with shit. Anywho,” he said casually, keeping his eyes on the endless span of water before them, “I’ll break his body, break his mind, and use that spiritual wild card to get what I need. We leave every morn
ing at dawn, and return to the beach house at dusk. I have a babysitter arranged for a night shift. Any questions?”

  Sade shook his head and yelled, “Not yet.”

  “Good,” he yelled back before looking his way with a smile. “Enjoying the ride so far?”

  Sade nodded, unable to keep his grin from spreading. “So far.”

  ****

  “Help me get the fat fucker in the chair, will you?” Kane huffed, sounding both annoyed and excited as he dragged an unconscious Abraham in a grain sack to the middle of the room. He dropped one end and straightened. “God, would it be too much to get these people to bleach their hulls at least once a goddamn year?” He looked down at the package, shaking his head before muttering, “Smells like fifty thousand generations of fish guts.” He looked all around, wiping his face on the sleeve of his black t-shirt. Sade couldn’t help but to be amazed again with his physique. In the black cargo pants and matching boots, he was nothing but sleek terror, carved by the blade of sadistic heroism. “He’ll be coming around in a couple of hours. I want to be ready when that happens. We’ll work him until around seven and head home in time for dinner. Faith is frying fish, but after smelling this place, I’m not sure I can handle it.”

  Sade wasn’t sure he’d be able to eat after seeing that file. Ever. Or sleep. “So where’s he staying,” Sade gestured to Abe. “When we leave.”

  “Here,” Kane said. “We had boat troubles with this one and had to borrow another to get back,” he said simply.” He kicked at the sack with his foot. “I’ll cut this thing off so I can see what the hell we’re touching.” He eyed Sade now, sweat dripping off his nose, “Telling you now,” he muttered softly, “I’m not touching that with my bare hands if I can help it.”

  Sade wasn’t sure why he didn’t want to, but he definitely understood. They got the sack removed from Abraham and Sade’s heart hammered in his sick gut at seeing him again. He laid on his side, duct taped. Mouth, wrists, and ankles. He wore a black suit and whoever delivered him hadn’t been very careful with the package. He looked like he’d been in a human blender with dull blades.

  “Jesus,” Kane muttered, staring down at him. “He ain’t fresh, that’s for sure. I’ll have to make do with scraps.” He smiled up at Sade. “But don’t you worry Son, I can make a mean stew with leftovers.”

  Nervous excitement ran through Sade at what was coming. To see the legend at work with his own eyes gave him more anticipation than all his fights put together, but to work with him in any sadistic capacity was just off the charts exhilarating. “What’s first?” Sade asked.

  “Well,” Kane said lightly. “We’ll get him nice and secure and then we’ll talk about that over coffee.” He flashed a smile. “Brought one of those nifty campfire ones with the hand pump? Been itching for a reason to use it and a good strong cup of coffee sounds like a great way to kick this off, what do you say?” He shrugged then. “We’ve got soda too, your mom packed all sorts of goodies. Up to you.”

  “Coffee sounds perfect,” Sade said, grinning at his boyish enthusiasm.

  “Great,” Kane said smiling back, eying him. “Are you excited?” he muttered. “Because I sure am. Sort of feels like our first fishing trip together in a way.” The sincerity of his words gave Sade a happy rush.

  “It does. And I’m really honored too, just so you know.”

  “Glad to hear it, Son.” He looked down at Abraham. “Well. This sick fucker ain’t torturing himself.” He leaned and grabbed Abe by the front of his suit jacket. “Get ready to help me get his fat ass on the chair, I might miss.”

  Before Sade could offer to help, Kane yanked him off the floor in one jerk and plopped him in the chair. Sade saw what he meant as his body fell to the right, so he hurried over to hold him up. Feeling the dead weight of that monster gave him the sudden need to kill.

  “Damn,” Kane gasped, his boot in the center of Abe’s chest as he looked around. “We should’ve brought the duct tape for this step. Go fetch it, will you, it’s in that duffle bag stuffed under the bed in the cabin. Just bring the whole bag in fact. I’ll go ahead and prep him for surgery.”

  Surgery? Sade hurried out, not sure if he meant that literally or figuratively. Once outside the metal room, he pulled in a lung full of clean air then located the bag. On his way back, he glanced around at the trees surrounding the isolated inlet they’d parked the boat in.

  “Check that end pocket,” Kane said when Sade set the bag down. Sade found it and Kane instructed him to tape his lower torso to the chair then his upper. “Then we’ll work from there.”

  While Sade finished taping his upper torso, Kane took all the items out of the duffle bag and laid them a few feet away on the floor. Sade eyed them, curious over nearly all of them. The only thing that he recognized was a scalpel. Maybe he did plan to perform literally surgery. A lobotomy?

  A queasy feeling hit him at what might be coming. He knew it wouldn’t be anything pretty or fun and despite the fact that Abraham was the perfect criminal for this production, he wasn’t into watching gore. His thing was killing with brutality. Slow brutality for Sade didn’t mean soft or easy, it meant spread out and delivered, at a pace like a drawn out orgasm.

  “Come here, Son.” Sade knelt next to Kane who held up a wicked looking knife with a red ruby cross on the handle. “First order of business? His dick is gone. But I can’t have him bleeding out,” he said softly, “so we’re going to use this.” He held up a tool that looked familiar. “I think it’s only fair to burn the evil hole shut, don’t you?”

  Sade’s junk jerked at the idea even though he knew this was Kane’s signature way of doing things and that this dude, out of any dude, deserved it. “Agreed.”

  “Good,” Kane said with a light joy. “And I’ll need to install a tube so his bladder doesn’t rupture and kill him before I’m done so I brought this.” He held it up. “Recognize it?”

  Sade studied the odd looking tube.

  “It goes to a stethoscope,” he said with tickled-to-death snickers. “I don’t know…” he mumbled, shaking his head, “…there’s something about borrowing from one genius tool and substituting it for another.” He looked at Sade. “Like an artistic challenge for me.”

  “So,” Kane said, getting back to showing off his toy collection. “After we cut his dick off, we’ll use these mega-pliers to extract his teeth.” He gave a toothy grin. “In between each tooth extraction, we’ll offer him an opportunity to sing of course.” He lifted a long tube sock next. “And this. Because I really don’t have the patience for bellowing in my ear while I work.” He looked around at his items. “Oh, and then,” he snatched up the scalpel. “Guess what I’m using this baby for? I’ll give you a hint,” he said, not waiting. “You’ll wish you’d… listened when I’m done.”

  Sade raised his brows, not sure what the fuck that meant.

  “His ears,” he squealed lightly before getting serious. “Did you know you can cut those off with no real consequence other than a lot of pain? And I do mean a lot of pain—if you do it slowly as I plan.” He leaned in with a smile and said, “I plan to yell, ‘are you hearing me, Father?’ during that one.” He laughed quietly before looking back down at his supplies, shaking his head. “You can’t forget your humor in all of this, Son, or it’ll get to you. Okay, so, by this point, I predict our father to feel pretty chatty. And this is where I’ll bring in the big guns, the spiritual warfare.” He leaned in closer to Sade. “I’ve heard that he thinks I’m the Angel of Death.” He grinned and wagged his brows then got super serious. “And hey. I’m not going to argue with him if he wants to think that. I’ll be whatever or whoever if it gets me what I need, you know what I’m saying, son?”

  “I get it, yeah.” And he did, but Sade’s mind seemed stuck on the soldering part after they cut his dick off. Would Kane require his help with that? The idea had him a little sick. Then teeth pulling and ear removal right after.

  “You know what?” Kane said, leaning back on his
haunches. “I just had the best idea.” He stared at Sade with that light bulb moment look. “Since this is your first time, how about I let you decide how we do all of this. Yeah!” He nodded, gesturing to all the supplies. “You orchestrate this, you lay it out, you tell me how we’re going to exact vengeance on this monster. I got other supplies if you need, just tell me what you’d like to do and it’s done.”

  Sade’s brain underwent a slow train wreck as he glanced from Kane to all the sick shit on the floor.

  “I’m giving you run of the insanity, man,” Kane whispered eagerly. “This is your chance to let it out, let your animal go, let your demons dance. And it’s all oookaaaay,” he sang softly.

  Sade couldn’t speak as Kane rattled off more torture tools, in an effort to inspire ideas. “I can get anything you want pretty much, just name your sadistic kink.”

  Fuck. “This…” Sade shook his head. “Look, I’ll kill anybody but…” he shook his head and leveled his gaze on Kane. “This isn’t my thing.”

  Silence stretched as Kane stared at him. “I thought you wanted to hurt this guy, I thought you wanted him dead?”

  “I do,” Sade looked at him. “I just… I mean I’ll kill him right now if you want, but all that other stuff?” Sade looked at the supplies, shaking his head. “I mean, maybe I could, but fuck, I’m not wanting to. I’ll be honest with you, I don’t get off on the idea of doing it.”

  More awkward silence stretched before Kane finally said, “Get off?” Kane’s gaze narrowed on him. “Is that what you think this is about? Getting off? Don’t you see the cause here, son? The why?” He shook his head slowly. “Listen to me. Your dick… isn’t supposed to be tied to every pain and doesn’t have to be. In here?” He tapped his finger on Sade’s chest. “And here?” He tapped his forehead. “That’s where what we’re doing needs to happen. That’s where the whys are forged. Keep your dick out of it, that’s not the same shit that we’re dealing with here. Compartmentalize, Son. Organize your lusts and put them in their rightful place. We’re not here to have an orgy, this is business. Our dicks are for fucking, not fighting, not killing. Your dick isn’t a staff of destruction and awe.” He angled his head at Sade. “You feeling me, son?”