EroticReverie

Sid Shaw 

Number fourteen, Father Peter screams through the gag in his mouth as I hammer another nail into his palm. I’m grinning ear to fucking ear as I finish the seventh nail in his left palm. He was number fourteen on her list. So he gets seven nails in his hand as my brothers Crue and Cash watch me finish nailing him to the giant wooden cross that normally hangs high above the altar near the back wall. 

It’s one in the morning. We’d knocked him out and dragged him from his bed and into our truck and to the church. While we took care of him, Jett was at home , hacking into the towns cameras and corrupting all footage , so nobody would be able to place us in town tonight. Not that they’d expect us really. But we were covering our tracks. 

“You like fucking little girls Father?” I ask him as his head hangs and he pants and groans in pain. 

He’s naked. Blood dripping from his hands down his wrists and arms and his pits and his sides. Down his legs. All the way to the floor. His rapist dick hangs small and limp. I twirl the hunting knife in my hand with a grin as I look at it. He’d lose that soon. But I bide my time. wanting him to suffer. Needing him to suffer before I let him bleed out on his fucking cross. 

“See…I’ve never believed in God. Bunch of fucking bullshit if you ask me.” I say and then I take the hunting knife and stab it into the wood of the cross near his side and he flinches and screams. He’s terrified. Good. He fucking should be. I flick a smaller knife out of my back pocket. A small thing. But sharp. Good for fine cuts and sending a message. One I’d write in his fucking skin. 

I flick the knife open and begin to write. The blood shoots to the surface and begins to drip as I carve my words into his skin. He cries. Begs behind his gag. Screaming as I keep slicing and talking. 

“But tonight? I believe. If only because I want you to rot in hell.” I say calmly. 

He groans as my knife keeps working.

“Tonight I believe. Because men who fuck children should have their own special place they go when they die.”

I chuckle as he groans in pain. 

“Are you praying? You should be. but even you know your god won’t forgive you, don’t you?” I ask as I work on the second word. Lower on his chest. 

“You fucked our girl.” I growl. Growing less calm. 

“You fucked Liviana.” I growl. My knife cutting deeper as I carve the letters into his skin. 

“You raped her.” I say. My hand shaking and my beautiful art becomes ruined by the shaky lines. But I keep carving. 

“I’ll sleep well tonight. And tomorrow night? All the other children you’ve put your fucking hands on? They’ll sleep even better. Knowing you can’t fucking touch them again.” I growl. Because I knew he’d had others. I just knew it. 

I step back as I admire my work. The words “CHILD FUCKER” are bleeding across his chest and abdomen. 

I put my smaller knife away and take my hunting knife out of the wood and look at him. 

“You deserve more than this. THIS IS A GOD DAMN FUCKING MERCY!” My voice echoes in the church as I grab his dick and my hunting life slides through flesh and I watch as he thrashes and screams and I drop his cock and his balls to the floor with a wet slap. 

“Nails.” I hold out my hand. Cash slaps fourteen more nails in my hand. 

“Hammer.” I hold on my other hand. Crue give me the hammer. They’ve been silent. Letting me be the one that takes care of him. Letting me the one that takes care of this fuck. Because I owed it to her. Out of all of us. I was the worst to her. I was mean. I touched her I ways these men did. Taunted her. It didn’t matter than she was ours. I’d been no better than them. I needed to have the first kill. 

Father Peter wails as I lift a nail to his head. 

“Jesus had a crown, didn’t he?” I say and he shakes his head his head but it goes still. Dropping as I hammer the first nail into his fucking skull.