Page 31 of Sweet SIN Slaughterhouse

Circling her back, the point is well implanted into her rectum, destroying her internal organs. I smile as blood begins to stain down her white pant legs, because who wears fucking white? Stopping, I look down at myself and laugh at being dressed in head-to-toe white. But I want her bloodstains, it’s a badge of honor, something I will wear with pride all night long, then put it into storage should I ever want to remember this night.

Reaching her front side, I notice her eyes are now bloodshot, and more crimson flows uncontrollably from her mouth down her exposed torso, but it’s not enough. I need more.

Finding my bejeweled gas mask, I slide it on over my face and snatch my rib cutters and decide it's time to play.

Typically, this tool is used on the ribs, hence the name, but not today. No, I need more blood, more pain, more body parts to take home with me. Clicking the red button on my phone once more stops her from lowering any further. Uncomfortable, her hips wiggle and heels fidget against the dirt. Still tied at the ankles, and tightly contained on all ends, I inform her, “Sweetie, this is how you’re going to die. Nothing is going to get you out of this predicament. Now, please, stay fucking still.”

More cries from the desperate pest echo around usand I am so fucking over it. Tossing my phone back in my top, my work here is not yet done.

Stepping forward, I brave her teeth and stick my fingers inside her wide-open mouth. Gripping her slippery, lying, horrible-at-oral tongue, I swiftly move in with my rib cutters and cut the muscle in one, clean slice. More blood splatters, the majority of it landing on my mask and chest.

My head tilts as she begins choking on herself, and soon her lungs and stomach will drown from ingesting too much of her own blood. Stepping back just in time, she vomits on herself. Lifting my mask, I look at her in disgust. “Show some class, would you?” Her eyes seem like they could explode out of her head at any moment, but it doesn’t deter from the fact that I hate fucking vomit. It stinks and really is the grossest shit to clean up.

Annoyed, I scurry around and reach for the hooks. Unlatching her cuffs, I watch in slow motion as her body falls backward. Her pelvis remains elevated and she now resembles a human version of a pyramid.

Smiling, I pick up the bone saw I dropped some time ago and place my mask back on over my face. I must keep my makeup somewhat fresh for later, after all. Bubbles form at the pest’s mouth. She’s choking, but not fast enough for my liking.

Placing the saw between her teeth, I stare into her eyes and cut. At first, it’s easy, just skin, then the resistance greets me, her jaw hinge, and I apply more pressure. Placing my bandaged foot on her forehead to keep hersteady, I continue, noting the progress I’ve made as the bottom part of her jaw starts slacking to the side. My hands are covered, dripping in warm, thick life, life which is draining from her rapidly. My saw reaches her ear, cue for me to angle down and continue my cut, completely removing the bottom portion. This part is a tad thicker, but I’ve never met an adversary I couldn’t beat.

At some point she stops struggling, her body becoming slack and her jaw now fallen to my feet. Dropping the saw, I lift my mask and hands in victory. Because I always fucking win. I always get what I want and nothing can ever get in my way.

My chest heaves, catching my breath from the intense arm workout I just did, then my phone vibrates against my heart. What timing. Blowing my hair out of my face, I pull my phone out of the top of my dress and see it’s Papa. Opening the message, it’s a pin to the location. It’s go time.

Looking down at the liar, I’m almost positive she’s dead. If not, she will be very soon, between the pain up her ass and the lack of face with a side of burnt flesh, the odds are stacked against her.

Skipping to my car, I look back at her once more, waving. “Bye, bitch, I have a party to attend.”

14

SID

Cars surround the open meadow.

Mountains keep us private from the outside world. This moment is ours.

A small fire is lit, rocks encompass it and thirteen shadows stand around the dancing light, accompanied by two sweet baby pigs, Jack and Sally.

Taking a deep breath, I hold it in my lungs, trying to slow the racing of my heart. My palms are damp and moths flutter in my stomach.

Closing my eyes, I exhale slowly through my nose. Repeating this process a couple more times assists in elevating my heart rate to a somewhat acceptable beat, followed by picturing Jack and Sally frolicking together. They always calm me and provide me with the most joy a human could ever experience, besides killing.

Raising my hands, my fingers tangle themselves in my hair, where my veil dramatically hangs. Unclipping it, Ilet it fall out of my hair because tonight it’s being replaced with a crown.

Before gathering the courage to get out of the Bentley, I reach for the visor and flip it down. Sliding the small cover, the mirror reveals itself with the automatic lights. I take in my appearance: blood is dried under my chin to down my neck and beyond, and the splatter on my face really adds to the aesthetic. I like it. What a night, a bloodied bride, a corpse in her slaughterhouse, and next to be crowned queen. My life is surreal but so fucking perfect… Almost.

There should be fourteen around the flames. Closing the visor, I shake my head and rid myself of any sorrow or negative thoughts. Tonight has been perfect and I will not bring any bad energy with me to this.

Opening the car door, I step onto the crisp grass, which tickles my toes, and breathe in, filling my lungs with fresh mountain air. A gentle breeze blows delicately over me as I take in the moon's energy. Slow steps follow and my feet guide me toward my family, chosen and blood. I don’t focus on them, my eyes and memory are trying to absorb every ounce of this moment, to ingrain it into my brain for life. This is not a moment to be forgotten, this is girl fucking power at its finest.

Silence greets me once I reach the cluster of members waiting for me. All of them are in black, from head to toe. The contrast of our outfits makes me smirk, it’s perfect. Reaching forward I attempt to take a hold of the leashes for my babies, but Mom shakes her head once, denyingme. I nod, understanding, and turn my attention to Papa who is standing at the twelve directly across from me.

“So let it begin.” His deep voice brings chills up my spine and down my arms.

Standing still, I am unsure what is to come next, or if I am expected to do something. I feel my chest rising, hyper aware of all my body's movements and the movements of those surrounding us, uncertainty will do that. The others step back, including my babies, each of them give a snort, cheering me on.

This has been the first time I have been so nervous and intimidated in my life. But I am a strong motherfucker, nerves and anxiety will not deny me of that.

“It is your birthright, your destiny, and my honor to name you the next Diablo of The Devil’s Society. It has been the greatest privilege of my life, watching you blossom into the leader you are today.” Papa pauses. I can feel his emotion and pride and I swear to fuck if he makes me cry, I will be so annoyed. The urge to stomp my foot is strong, but I resist out of respect for the process.

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