“Ew. No, thanks.”
I reach him quickly, grabbing him by the shirt collar and slamming him back to the ground. He coughs and rolls over, still trying to crawl away from me, which only makes me laugh. Rage has taken over, and all I want to do is smash the smugness out of him.
Nantes hurries over, kicking Fetterman in the side. “You disgusting piece of absolute trash.”
Fetterman manages to get up and grab Nantes, and I get ready to jump in, but Nantes holds his own, punching the douche in the face several times until he slumps on the ground. We had decided not to use too much physical contact to avoid injuries to ourselves, but that was fucking impressive.
I stand back and watch Nantes go wild, kicking Fetterman every time he manages to get up. Seeing him take out his anger on this loser warms my fucking heart. Fetterman groans, and Nantes steps back, dragging his hand through his now messy hair. He looks at me with wild eyes, but there’s a satisfied grin on his face.
“Finish this,” Nantes says.
“Gladly.”
Just for funsies, I zap Fetterman in the nuts, grinning at the howl of pain he releases. Nantes reaches for it.
“Can I try it once?”
“Of course.”
Nantes aims the stun gun at Fetterman’s thigh and pulls the trigger. The thigh must hurt as much as the balls given the scream he produces. As much fun as it would be to torture this loser all night, I’d rather get it over with.
Straddling Fetterman, I hold the knife to his neck. “This is for all the kids who trusted you, looked up to you, were hurt by you.” I drag the sharp knife across his skin. He groans, trying to reach for the shallow wound, but he can’t with his arms pinned under my knees.
Nantes drops down next to me, taking the knife and jabbing it right into Fetterman’s side. I hear the blade slice through his skin and likely an organ.
“That’s for the collective victims of all sick bastards like you,” Nantes says.
I take the knife back and hold it against his jugular. “How many, Fetterman? Tell me the truth and I may show you mercy.”
“Fuck… you,” he manages to say in a raspy voice. “I’ll… see you… in… hell.”
“Oh, buddy, there’s no such thing as hell.” I press the knife into his flesh, feeling all my pent-up anger and obsession with the man drain away along with his blood. “That was for Ruthie.”
Nantes is next to me as I climb off, and we watch Fetterman gurgle and keep trying to crawl away from us, but he won’t get far.
Nantes surprises me by taking the knife again and plunging it twice into Fetterman’s back. “The lungs,” he says. “They’ll fill with blood, making his last breaths as painful as possible.”
“Nice work, Doctor.”
We sit on the dirty ground, watching Fetterman gasp until his breathing stops completely. I turn to Nantes, waiting for his reaction, but he doesn’t seem not to have one.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He nods. “Not like I’ve never seen anyone die.”
“Well, no, but not like this.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “Not like this.” He’s quiet for a few moments, and I give him the space to process. “I get it now. He wasn’t a person, not like us. He wasn’t even an animal. He was a monster, and it doesn’t hurt to kill a monster.”
“I never saw them as people either.”
“In the car when he talked about Ruthie, I thought, if I had a gun, I’d shoot him right now.”
“It was hard to listen to. It’s hard to pretend to share an interest with these losers too.”
“A means to an end.”
“Right.” I glance over, noting the bit of blood on Nantes’s face, and suddenly, absolute love and lust for this man floods my body. Grabbing his chin, I draw him close for a kiss, and before I know it, we’re rolling around on a dirty warehouse floor next to a dead body.
