The Cult of Devin

07 part two

He took the knife and took the tip of it and moved it between the vertebrae of her spine. “I need to remember how to do this..” he whispered to himself. He pressed his fingers against her back and found the space between the vertebrae. He pressed the tip of the knife there and held his good hand on the hilt of the blade. He growled as she thrashed under him. He wanted to sever the spinal cord. Paralyze her so she wouldn't fight back. He was going to have to press the knife down hard to get through, he didn't know if he could. Worst comes to worst, he could just smash something heavy against her back until she couldn't move. He took a breath and shoved the blade down. A loud crack with a scream following flowed through the room. Emmit bit his lip as he wiggled the knife around in her back. She began to violently thrash under Emmit, grabbing objects and throwing them back at him. Emmit yanked the knife around. It was caught on the bone or something. He pulled it out and grabbed the paper weight she had used to crush Emmit's hand. He took it and slammed it down on her spine over and over again. He was breathing heavily as he pummeled her spine with the heavy paper weight. Heather let out a pained scream and reached around to grab a pencil. She swung her hand back, stabbing the pencil into Emmit's leg. He cursed and moved away.

“Fucking bitch!?” He looked at the pencil sticking out of his leg. He didn't have anything to patch it up. He didn't want to take the pencil out so he wouldn't bleed too bad. He lifted his good leg up to his chest and slammed his foot down on her back. It let out a final crunch. Her lower half went limp. Emmit nodded. And leaned back, breathing heavy. “That was harder than I expected.” He muttered as he grabbed a chair and rope. Soft sobs and incoherent begs were whispered from Heather.

Heather let out a pained groan as Emmit dragged her into the chair and sat her up in it.  He wrapped the rope around her to hold her in place. He stepped back to look at his work.

Heather slowly looked up at her son. She coughed and took in a slow wheeze of air. “Em-Emmit.. we can stop.. you don't have.. to kill me.. please.. please, I just want my sweet boy back..”

“Shut up. I can and will cut out your tongue.” He grabbed the knife again and wiped off the hilt. He tapped the blade against his chin. “Where to start?” He dug through his bag before taking out a lighter. He flicked it on and looked at Heather through the flame. “You always told me hair is flammable. But how flammable is it?” He brought the flame closer to her hair. As he brought the fire to it, it went up in flames. The fire slowly started to spread up Heather’s thick hair. She let out a cry as the warmth burned into her skin. The smell of her own burning hair filling the room. As the fire neared her scalp, her screams grew louder. Emmit shoved a cloth into her mouth.

“You're too loud.” He watched as her hair burned, a small smile on his face. He sat back down and dragged the knife down her calf. “I wonder how long I can keep you alive if I cauterized the wound before it bleeds too much? But you can't feel anything below your legs anymore, can you? I guess I didn't think that part through fully.."

He brought the knife up to her stomach. “I watched a girl slip on her own intestines. I wonder if I can strangle you with your own insides before you die? Will you pass out from fear? Pass out from pain? Blood loss? I really don't want you to die fast. But what would be the worst form of pain for you? Even at this point, would it hurt you more if I forced you to watch me kill myself? Would it pain you if I took this knife to my own body and slit myself stomach to sternum? I wish I could try it, but I have so much more work to do, so I think I will just force you to watch me hallow you out."

He took the knife and plunged it into her lower stomach. He dragged it up until he reached the sternum. He slit down the sides of the rib cage and pulled the skin and fat apart. “Ew” he said as he wiggled his hand through the peritoneum. He grabbed onto her  intestines and started to remove them. He looked to the stomach and shoved his knife into it, he twisted it before pulling it out, the stomach acid began to leak out. He leaned back and looked at his mother. All emotion was devoid from her face. Her eyes were blank and exhausted. Sweat dripped from her brow, and she just sat there, limp and frozen. Emmit removed the cloth from her mouth.