Saviour of the Broken

[Rigor Mortis Ain't Got Nothin' On How Hard You'll Be]

"It wasn't as dark and scary as it sounds. I had a lot of fun...killing somebody's a funny experience." - Albert DeSalvo ('The Boston Strangler' accused of the murders of 13 women . 1931 – 1973)

[flashback]

So, there I am, sitting in my room, kicked back against my bed with my guitar in hand. Even though I found it rather mundane compared to my assignments, sometimes it was just fun to play around and listen to the chords. There's a knock on my door, Mercedes, my pop's 'secretary', tells me that I had a few jobs waiting for me. I still remember how I felt. She didn't say 'job', oh no, she said 'jobs'. That meant there was more than one person waiting in that room for me. I flung open the door to see her still standing there waiting on me.

"Jobs?" I asked quietly. I was too scared she'd correct herself and say that it was just a 'job'.

"Yes, Frankie. Jobs." She chuckled at the look on my face. "C'mon, they're waiting for ya."

"Wait. Wait! I have to change first!"

I ran back into my room, grabbing a new pair of white skinny jeans from the bottom drawer of my dresser and a crisp, perfectly white button down from my closet, leaving the top two buttons undone as I put it on. I stepped into my black combat boots, I was so excited I hadn't even laced them up, hell I was still buttoning my pants when I walked back into the hallway with Mercedes.

"I think that was record timing."

"Yeah, well you're the one who said 'jobs.' Don't go around saying shit like that if you can't handle me losing my head."

"I think that's what we're counting on." She shot me a grim smile and I couldn't help the giddiness that overcame me. I couldn't help the giggling that turned into full-on, howling laughter that had me running down the hall and down the stairs and all the way to the room. When I finally got to the bottom of the stairs, and stood in front of that huge viewing window, I looked down and saw three guys sitting on the floor, cuffed at their ankles with a chain attached to the cuffs at their wrists. I put my foot on one of the chairs in the room and laced up my boot before switching and fixing the other as well. I unbuttoned my shirt cuffs, rolling up the sleeves to rest at my elbows. I ran a hand through my hair and gave the boys one last look. Then, I walked through the thick metal door, loving how those two poor souls looked up so fast when they heard it slam shut. I pranced my way down the stairs that led to the ground level of the room. I began to clap slowly.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" I stood in front of them just staring. One of the boys had yet to look up, I was beginning to wonder if he had passed out before the fun had even started.

"Are you ready?" I asked the guy closest to me. He didn't answer. "I do believe I asked you a question there, mate." I said in the most sickeningly sweet voice I could muster.

"R-ready for w-what, sir?" The poor fucker! He was already shaking!

"The show! Are you ready for the show?!" I yelled, listening to the way my voice boomed and echoed off the walls of the room.

"What are you going to do to us?" The confident shit head beside him asked.

"What am I going to do to you? Oh. Well, we're going to have some fun, that's what."

I smiled at him and watched his face turn from hopeful to pure fright in a matter of seconds. I walked over to the long silver table and began methodically laying out my tools on the adjoining metal tray. I, then, prepped the leather straps that were fastened in various places on the table, making sure they were all folded back and ready to be slapped on and buckled tight. I leaned my head from side to side, stretching my neck out, then I interlocked my fingers and stretched my hands out in front of my, listening to each knuckle crack and pop.