Diablo shoved the girl face first into the stone floor. She cried out and her head bounced up immediately upon impact. A split second later, his ax made a faint whooshing sound, cutting through the air.
It found its mark, driving its well-honed blade into the back of her neck, severing muscle, bone, and tissue. He pulled back, leaving a wide gaping hole. Joshua keeled over and vomited when the second swing completely decapitated her head.
It landed on the floor with a soft thud and rolled back towards her father. Blood pooled where the headless body came to rest.
These kinds of scenes were nothing like in the movies. Sure, it was messy as hell, but it didn’t spray all over the damn place like an endless water fountain. Her parent’s struggled more determindedly now, their anguished cries growing louder.
No one else in the room reacted. We were dehumanized to such tragedies. Growing up in Vice City, we had to be. Many of us had acquaintances, friends, or family members who had gone through this very thing at the hand of a rival cartel before the city was fully under my father’s control.
Ryan and his wife watched on in despairing horror as Diablo made quick work of their daughter’s remaining limbs. There was a fascinatingly artistic aesthetic to his flawless proficiency that couldn’t be duplicated. He wielded an ax like Picasso wielded a paintbrush.
The sound of sinew and bone-crunching and separating was a familiar soundtrack in this room.
Diablo could have used any weapon he wanted––the chainsaw for example––but he was faithful to his ax––and that was fine with me. After successfully disposing of over at least two hundred bodies, I didn’t care what he used.
“I thought my policy was simple and clear-cut. I have a two-strike rule. You fuck up once, I can consider allowing pieces of shit like yourself to waste oxygen in my city and more of my invaluable time. But if you fuck up twice, there is no do-over.”
Joshua’s entire body quivered. He shook his head back and forth and convulsed with sobs, continuing to deny the truth to my face.
“Mateo, you know I wouldn’t touch your product. I value my life–– Ah!”
His head whipped to the side as my fist made impact with his face, a tiny spittle of blood landing on the floor.
“I’ll advise you only once not to lie to me again.” I fisted his messy hair and pulled his head to the side, exposing his throat and making him look me in the eye.
“Youmiraculouslymisplaced two kilos. Now you owe me twenty-five grand for each plus another ten for interest because I had to fix your fuck up by compensating a good friend of mine. You’re lucky I’m feeling generous and not making you pay me what I’m now going to lose in profit. And if you somehow can’t pay up, your family will––just like Ryan’s is.”
I shoved his head away from me as Diablo began tossing severed limbs into one of the three drums, dropping the torso in last. A loud squelching sound emanated in the air as it was sucked down to the bottom.
Giving one strike was as lenient as I allowed myself to be. The couple tried to fight their way to one another when it was their turn, but were ultimately pulled apart.
Denise cried out behind her gag, her green eyes overflowing with tears. She knew their deaths wouldn’t be as painless as their daughters had been.
They were going straight into ‘The Stew’, the oil inside the two remaining fifty-five-gallon drums. Joshua dropped his forehead to the floor, squeezing his eyes shut when they were forced inside foot first, screaming the entire time.
Diablo pulled a butane lighter from his back pocket and set each drum aflame. My men were extremely cautious not to get themselves burned as they stood by and monitored the process.
An audible hiss filled the air as the oil bubbled and popped the hotter it became, frying their flesh.
With the gags in their mouths, the instant they were both fully submerged in the flaming liquid their screams abruptly cut off.
Lids were placed on top of the drums, ensuring bothequally experienced a rapid, searing, and agonizing death.I looked down at Joshua and delivered my ultimatum knowing Alfredo would see him off my land. “I expect my first payment by this time next week.”
My brother and I exited the warehouse together, leaving the men to handle the clean-up.
“He’s going to run,” Elias noted with bemusement.
“I know,” I grinned. “That’s why his family is going to endure a tragic home invasion within the next fifteen minutes.”
I’d known from the start Joshua wouldn’t be able to come up with the money.
The man let his greed get the best of him–consuming as much of the coke as he could and selling the rest of it to junkies for half its worth. It didn’t take much footwork to figure any of this out. It was a shame things had to end this way, but that was just business.
If I didn’t make the hard decisions someone stronger would. I couldn’t allow one man to get away with stealing from me. If I did, ten more would choose to follow. Rules were rules, and I expected them to be abided.
With that part of my night done, I refocused on Elena. She was always at the forefront of my mind, even when I told myself she wasn’t. I’d been with many women, but none of them had captivated me like this one.
I would sell her a dream she couldn’t live without if it meant keeping her. I could only pray to the man upstairs and hope that he answered my prayers that she was strong enough to withstand all she would have to endure. I silently apologized for knowing I had to be the one to destroy such an exquisite creature. In the end it would be worth it. Me and my ace would both greatly benefit.
