Page 36 of Savage Keepsakes

“No wonder I’m a fucking vegetarian.”

His screams continue until his voice becomes hoarse. Unlatching him, he falls to the tile floor and holds his fucked-up fist to his chest.

I look down at him and kick him in the side. If I wore boots, I bet his ribs would have fractured under the pressure.

I reach down to grab for the other hand. He tries to fight me off with the mangled one.

“Come on, dude. I have a job to do.”

I yank his wrist behind him, straddling the back of his thighs while I sink to my knees. Igniting the torch, the skin blisters and dissolves off the muscles, transforming them into charred meat.

The darkness from my mind gradually dissipates, making way for a sense of peace that wraps around me like a long-awaited embrace.

Everything started when I was still stuck with my cunt mother. All the men she brought into the house left me with a trail of mental scars that would never heal, and she just looked the other way, letting them do what they wanted with me for a couple of bucks.

I have no illusions that the darkest fragments of my childhood don’t contribute to the murky haze that entwines my mind as an adult.

Lucy, though. Her touch soothes a hidden part of my mind that I never knew was there, and because of that, I will never let her go.

Jumping up, I leave him on the ground. As large as he is, I’ve seen a bigger fight from a fucking mouse.

Putting away the tools, I grab the bone saw and turn to him. The fucker has crawled halfway to the door and has left a blood trail across the tiles.

“Where ya going, little buddy?”

“I won’t see her again. I’ll tell no one.” He slumps down as he hits the dip in the uneven floor.

“We’re just getting started!” I throw the bone saw down, grab a scalpel, and leap over his pathetic form to open the door.

I should have let him go after I captured him in town. One eye was the only thing I needed to prove my point. I’ll have to burn him tonight. He’s of no use to me.

Glancing at the fuckstick, I tilt my head, but he doesn’t move.

I shrug and head out the back door to add kindling to the bin. I start the flame and tend to it before turning back to him.

“Listen, I can’t have you dying with her on you. The cute button in your pants you call a penis still has her sweet juices on it.”

I rip off his pants as he groans before throwing up.

Vomit makes my stomach curdle, and I curl my lips in disgust. Quickly, I cut off his balls and saw off his dick before throwing it into the fire.

“You should feel lucky. The last guy that touched her hung where you were as I fed him his own testicles.”

His eyes widen, and his face turns an unhealthy shade of green.

Remembering his mouth on her makes me shudder. I spin around and grab the scalpel from the table.

Kneeling on his chest, I grip his chin and slice off his bottom lip. Blood pours onto his chin and the flap of flesh falls beside us.

He whimpers, and I grin. Tracing the bow of his top lip, it cuts off easily enough. Picking up the two rubbery pieces, I stare down at his bleeding gash.

“Ready?” I ask before stuffing them into his gaping pie hole.

He devours them in one gulp, leaving me almost in awe.

I take the bone saw and work away at his bottom half, cutting his legs off his body. Before long, his screams die into silence and I know he’s about dead.

The area is drenched in crimson, a macabre sight that is oddly comforting in this place. Taking a deep breath, I cherish the tang of iron in the air, letting it soothe my muscles, and the rage of him touching her inside of me.

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