Page 18 of Beneath Her Skin

And now, it’s going to be the instrument of his downfall.

I take a deep breath and reach for the knife that lies beside me on the floor. It’s sharp—so sharp and it gleams in the dim light of the room. I can feel its weight in my hand, solid and reassuring. We’ve done this many times, but this time feels different. This isn’t just for my own twisted pleasure. This is for that woman, all women who have ever been beaten, abused, and raped.

Raising the knife, Roy struggles against his bonds. He knows what’s coming, and he’s trying to escape. But it’s too late for that. He should have thought of that before he laid hands on those who trusted him. Before, he thought he was just going to get away with a quick fuck and move on with his life.

“Are you ready? Time for the final act, Roy. Curtains are up and it’s show time!”

My hand trembles slightly as I position the knife at the base of Roy’s penis. This is it. This is the moment of truth.

With one swift motion, I bring the knife down and slice through the flesh. Roy screams as blood spurts from the wound, but I’m beyond feeling any kind of remorse or pity for him. His penis lies limp and lifeless in my palm, now free from its owner. “Not much of a man now, are you?” I laugh maniacally, dangling the flaccid, bloody appendage in front of his face.

“You fucking psycho bitch!” He throws the chair back, and it lands with a loud thud on the dusty wooden floor, dust lifting into the air.

“Makes the next part easier, I suppose.”

True.

I circle around him and kick out the bottom of the chair, leaving his arms still bound but his lower half exposed. Roy chokes back another scream as he realizes what I’m about to do next. His eyes are wide with terror as I straddle his waist, the warm blood pulsing from his body onto my thighs.

With a sick sense of satisfaction, I force open Roy’s mouth using both hands, prying apart lips and forcing my fingers inside past his teeth to push his jaw downward. Widening the space, I shove the severed appendage in and he begins to choke, saliva spilling out from the sides of his mouth, and I keep pushing it down.

His face is a mottled red as his air constricts, his throat flexing around his pathetic cock. Roy’s muscles tense and jerk underneath me as he struggles to breathe. “Does it feel good to choke on that manhood of yours? The worthless little prick that you used to incite fear into the woman you promised to love and cherish?”

I grab the knife and position myself between his legs, thrusting the blade into his ass. The skin around his mouth is turning a purple-grayish color, his arms still bound to the arms of the chair. But that doesn’t stop the wild spasmodic jerking movements of his chest and legs. I can see the terror in his eyes, the desperation as he realizes that he’s going to die. It’s a look that I’ve seen before, a look that I’ve witnessed in the eyes of other men I’ve killed.

“We’ll see it again and again. Until there are no more for us to kill.”

But right now, it’s Roy who is experiencing the justice I’m giving. It’s Roy who is feeling the weight of his own cruelty come crashing down on him.

And as I watch him struggle, I can feel a sense of satisfaction growing inside me. It’s karma coming full circle. Roy has spent years inflicting pain and suffering on those around him, and now he’s experiencing it for himself.

I pull my knife from his ass and watch as the blood pools around him. His body starts to convulse more violently now, his limbs thrashing about as he tries to break free from the restraints. But it’s no use. He’s trapped.

The life draining out of him, that spark fading from his eyes as oxygen deprivation takes its toll on his brain and body. His movements are slowing, becoming weaker. “Women are a gift, Roy. And all you men do is take, take, take. You never think that someday it will come back and literally fuck you in the ass. That it just might be the last thing you ever do. You selfish pigs break the minds of the goddess you were given the honor of protecting, and you expect to get away with it.”

The room falls silent except for the sound of his labored gasping and wheezing. The very last remnants of life are slipping away from him. Roy stares up at the ceiling, with his unblinking glassy eyes, of the broken shell of what he was.

With sweat drippingfrom my brow, I finally have his body positioned the way I want. The petechiae is visible as his eyes are frozen in horror from choking to death. His face is blue and purple and his mouth hangs open; his bloody, severed cock is a waiting surprise for the police.“Just wait until the medical examiner does the autopsy, all the words carved into his skin. And what you did to his ass, if I could be a fly on the wall in the room for it! Now for the little note. What should we say?”

I don’t respond; instead, I take my fingers, dipping them in his blood and write on the wall, directly above his body.

“You use us to satisfy your needs. You breed us to carry your children, then you break us. You leave us with broken minds, spirits, and hearts. Now is the time where we make you bleed. Where we break you. Beneath her skin, a woman carries the wounds of generations and the only way to right what’s been wronged is with blood."

“Nice touch.”

You think? I’m going for a warning that packs a punch.

“We just need to get rid of his car and make it through Inferno tomorrow night, then we will get the fuck outta here. Where’s the next stop again?”

Some bum fuck town in North Carolina. So far enough from here.

“Let’s just wait until then to fuck someone. I know it’s going to suck but let's get out of dodge first. We don’t look good in orange.”

I hate when you’re right.

“You love it. Don’t lie to yourself.”

Fuck you.

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