Warrant took in another stuttering breath, shoulders and chest hitching with the effort.
From the corner of Owen’s eye, that evidence of Shiloh’s abuse glared at him like a neon sign.
Owen could easily wait it out. Death wouldn’t be long now.
He narrowed his eyes. Looked at the stain again. Remembered the fearlessness in the girl’s face as she let him help her. Saw again the expression Kelly had as he held his sister close.
Looked at the stain again.
Where’s the fun in that?
Bending at the waist, he tugged the knife he’d used a couple of times tonight from the sheath, idly flipping it end over end, the handle smacking the center of his palm each time. He needs to pay. Pain and blood. It would be the only way Owen would be able to sleep at night.
He stepped forwards, bringing the knife downwards with force, burying it into the man’s meaty thigh with a thud. The tiny vibration against his palm stung slightly, and he shook his hand. With the blade safely stowed for transport, Owen lifted the body back to the bed and then removed the gag, staring down as Warrant’s skin slowly turned from gray to pink as his lungs and heart worked overtime to save him. He’ll die the same. Owen shook his head. But if I can look at Kelly and tell him his little sister’s attacker died slowly, it’ll mean more if it was at my hands. For all he’d shied from showing Shiloh that side of him, Owen knew Kelly well understood the monster inside.
When Warrant’s eyes blinked open, Owen was there, bent close. One palm caressing the handle of the knife, he wiggled it side to side in a slow dance of steel against bone, the scraping tremors signaling each painful contact. “You’re dying today.” Warrant stared up past the edge of Owen’s hand, clamped tightly over his mouth and nose. “Evil, vile man. Imagine if your own children were in this bed next to you, watchin’ daddy suck up his last breaths.” The man strained against the bonds holding him to the bed. “It’ll be my pleasure to end you. I found you, tracked you, and now I get to deal with you. You and your sick buddies.” Warrant’s gaze flickered. It was only a millisecond of movement, a sideways tick when Owen mentioned his buddies, but the tell was seen and cataloged. “Gonna fuck you up so bad, your pretty wife won’t be able to look at a picture of you without imaging your face like I’ll leave it.” No reaction. Interesting. “Your buddies won’t miss you. No more perversion for them.” Another tiny jerk towards the side and Owen deliberately turned his head, following the man’s line of sight to a picture on the wall.
Shoving the sodden sock back into Warrant’s mouth, Owen casually strolled around the bed, ignoring the muffled grunts behind him. He approached the picture, an innocuous pastoral scene completely out of place in the rough cabin, and ran a finger along the frame. The noises increased in volume, and he grinned, seeing only the flat features of the pale mask reflected in the glass covering the picture. A light tug revealed one side of the frame was attached to the wall, and Owen swung the entire unit out, allowing it to pivot on hidden hinges. Recessed shelves appeared, hidden by the picture. On the shelves was a camera with a Wi-Fi connection blinking green.
“You tape that shit you did to that little girl?” A signal booster lay on the shelf next to the camera. Owen examined the back of the picture, finding a hole masked by a see-through screen. “Stream that shit? Broadcast it for your pedo buddies? They pay by the gig?” He glanced back at Warrant, taking in the man’s panicked expression. More terrifying than the threat of death, whatever this represented was occupying all of Warrant’s mental space right now. “They still watchin’?” He swiveled to face the camera. “You watchin’ right now?” He laughed, letting the dark, deep sound roll out of him. “Content warning. This pedo rape porn is about to become a slasher snuff film.”
He walked back to the bed and yanked the knife out of Warrant’s leg, ignoring the muted scream of pain. Climbing on the bed, he settled one shin over Warrant’s legs, his other boot coming to rest alongside the man’s side. Leaning forwards, he dragged the tip of the blade up the center of Warrant’s chest, leaving a swath of red behind as the steel dug through flesh. “Wonder if you have a heart inside there.” Cold fury possessed him, stripping everything away except the pounding need to make this man pay. Skipping the neck, he placed the blade crosswise between Warrant’s teeth and pressed down. The tender skin at the corners of the man’s mouth split like soft cheese under the pressure, runnels of blood making their way down his cheeks. “Wonder if you understand how your mouth displeases me.”
Warrant was heaving side to side, and Owen had to steady himself with a palm on Warrant’s neck. He dug under the flopping jaw and closed his thumb and fingers, using a modified version of the blood choke hold for a few seconds until the man stilled. Head tipped to the side, Owen applied the tip of the blade to Warrant’s left eye, digging it out of its home until a fragile stalk of flesh was all that held it in place. A twist of the blade severed that, and he plucked it out of the air, holding it in front of Warrant’s remaining eye, so it was the first thing the man saw when he came back to consciousness a few moments later. “Here’s lookin’ at you, you piece of trash.”
The man’s terror rendered him mindless, bucking hard and fast, twisting to throw Owen’s weight off him. The sounds coming from behind the sock stuffed in his mouth weren’t words but an eerie, undulating wail. Owen nearly toppled to the side when the man’s writhing efforts dislocated his other shoulder, the pitch of the cries increasing at the added pain. Owen rode it out for another few seconds, then shook his head, bringing the blade down to swing in a short, stabbing motion at Warrant’s neck, impaling him and angling the blade to sever the outer carotid artery. With the blade still in place, most of the blood poured inwards, following the exposed and penetrated trachea to the lungs. Red liquid frothed out of the wound within seconds, air mixing with the blood to create a fine mist Owen couldn’t entirely avoid.
Between the rapid blood loss and the liquid-filled lungs, the end came swiftly for Warrant after all.
Owen swiped at his hands and arms with the edge of a blanket as he verified there wouldn’t be any surprises with the body. When he removed the knife from the wound, he found the covers of the bed underneath the man’s shoulders were saturated, dark with blood that had escaped while Warrant’s heart still beat. Shiloh’s blood was separate, and Owen found himself glad the little girl’s pain wasn’t touched by that of the pervert. He peeled back the man’s eyelid, finding the sclera of his remaining eye bloodred with burst veins. The cornea was already growing cloudy, all spark of life and intelligence fled.
Owen brought his head up, twisting to look directly into the camera. “Show’s over, folks. If you’re watchin’, this is me puttin’ you on notice.” Enunciating carefully, he promised, “You cannot hide from me. I will find you. And when I find you.” He glanced down at Warrant. “I’ll kill you, too.”
Camera off, Owen documented the setup with photos from his phone. There was a tablet on the shelf underneath the filming equipment, and when he touched the screen, it woke with a browser already opened. He recognized the URL as a node on the darknet where one of his personas had spent considerable time, emulating the kind of sick bastard Warrant would be drawn toward.