Page 74 of Psycho
“Then it’s up to you. If you’re feeling particularly spicy, you can jam the top of the bottle up against his asshole and give him an enema he’ll never forget. But you could also rupture his intestines and he’ll bleed out without giving us the necessary information. So, instead, once you get that soda good and shaken, you’re going to put that thing right up to his nostril and let it go.”
August was certain Lucas would refuse, but the slow smile that slid across his face made August proud.
“Hold his head up.”
“Woohoo!” Asa cried, wrenching Kohn backwards by his hair, steadying his swaying body with his own. “This is gonna be epic. Do it.”
Lucas shook the two-liter until it appeared to be nothing but froth, pressing the bottle to Kohn’s nose. “Last chance.”
“Fuck you, you little bit—” Lucas took his finger off the top, sending a water cannon of pressurized carbonation into Kohn’s nasal passages and down his throat. The man’s eyes bulged, soda spewing from his mouth even as he made gurgling sounds and his body convulsed.
When the bottle was empty, Lucas tossed it aside, but there was no way to question Kohn. He was still hacking, his body trying to forcibly expel the soda from his lungs.
“That was everything I thought it would be,” Asa said, gazing at the mess beneath Kohn. “What should we do now? I brought hedge clippers. We could start playing this little piggy with his chunky little sausage toes?”
“What about it, Kohn? All you have to do is tell us where Cricket is. Then you’ll at least meet the devil with all your toes.”
“They’re going to carve that bitch up and leave pieces of her scattered along the freeway for you to pick up like trash,” Kohn rasped.
Before August could react, Lucas turned and grabbed a blade from the table—one August never bothered with—a clunky looking meat cleaver, much like the one his brother had once plunged into a pedophile’s skull. Before any of them could even guess at his plans, he dropped to his knees and swung, ridding Kohn of four out of five toes in one go.
Kohn’s screams echoed through the hollow building, making August’s ears ring. He was going to have a migraine for days after this.
“Nice,” Avi said, voice full of admiration. “Now, do the others.”
“No. I’m done fucking around with him,” Lucas snapped. “Tell me where she is or the next things I take are your fucking balls, followed by your dick.”
“He’ll definitely bleed out from that,” Asa said, earning a glare from Lucas. “What? I’m just saying.”
“We could cauterize the wound?” Avi suggested.
“If he’s not going to talk, I don’t fucking care if he bleeds out. I want him to bleed out. Let him fucking die trussed up like the fucking pig he is.”
“Here, use this one. It will slice through him with far more precision,” August said, handing over a small paring knife. To Kohn, he said, “What’s it going to be?” When Kohn didn’t answer, Lucas pressed the blade against his balls until his face contorted and he began to make animalistic sounds between bared teeth.
“He asked you a fucking question,” Lucas snapped. After another thirty seconds passed, he scoffed. “Fine, have it your way.”
Lucas tugged down on Kohn’s testicles, likely to make it easier to cut. “Wait!” Kohn shouted. “Fuck. Wait. Just…just fucking wait.”
“Where is she?” Lucas asked again.
Kohn’s whole body sagged. He’d accepted that he wasn’t walking away from this. “There’s a junkyard on the corner of Bramford and 2nd Street. In the back, there’s a shipping container. If she’s still in one piece, you’ll find her there.”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Asa said, patting Kohn’s red face.
“Who the fuck are you people?” Kohn muttered. “I thought you were a fucking college professor.”
“I am,” August said, bored. He pointed to Avi. “And he’s a fashion designer.” Then Asa. “And he’s an architect.”
“But together, we fight crime,” Asa said in a mockingly cheerful tone.
Avi grinned at Kohn’s frown. “Millennials. We’re all about the side hustle.”
Asa snickered, but Lucas just continued to stand there, staring down at the knife in his hand. “You butchered those women,” he said, almost to himself. “You raped and tortured them, destroyed their bodies, did unspeakable things. For money. For entertainment. Because it got you off.”
Kohn shook his head. “Hey, I only did what the audience wanted. It’s them you should be pissed at. They paid to play. I’m just the sword. I didn’t care about those bitches one way or the other.”
“That’s not true. You very much enjoyed what you did,” Lucas said. “I felt it. I saw how excited you got, felt how much you enjoyed their pain, their torment. You wanted them to be not just scared, but broken, hopeless. Some of them were fucking children. I know you liked it. You made sure I knew. Remember?”
