Do As I Say

Guts And Blood

Ryde

The cries, screams and whimpers resembling those of rabid animals had faded to a dull pounding in my ears. I could hear the low music vibrating around me but I couldn't catch any of the lyrics.

Everything had taken on a hue of red, wherever I looked there was blood, flesh and entrails. Wherever I looked there was death. The stench of death and blood was so overpowering it was driving me to the brink of my fucking sanity.

I glanced sideways at Parker who was bent over and was throwing up. The discarded contents stained his Reeboks and the edge of his jeans. He wiped his chin and let out several dry heaves. I noticed how several people were stooped over, vomiting and not caring whether the filth splattered across their clothing.

Several were pulling at their hair and screeching at the top of their lungs. Several were crying, muttering incoherent phrases and several were cowering on the ground, trying to hide themselves from the onslaught of Trevor.

It was a house of madness.

Trevor was done gutting and disemboweling the second girls stomach and was now wiping his bloody hammer against a ragged cloth, his eyes trained in precision on the task at hand.

Fucking asshole. He'd been enjoying every fucking second of it. He'd been enjoying it every fucking time he heard both the girl's splitting screams and when they'd begged him relentlessly to stop.

He'd been fucking enjoying it when he hammered those nails into the blue haired girl's eyes. When the sharp tip hacked deep into her membrane and further into her pupils and slowly gauged the eyes halfway out. Her sclera splattered out along with a jet of blood which mixed with the froth trickling past the gaps in her deformed lips that'd been crudely nailed together.

He'd then teased the clump of dangling sockets and veins with the edge of his blade before cutting them off. The mangled eyes had dropped onto the bloody dance floor surrounded by a pile of entangled intestines and flesh, then rolled forward across the floor while resting near the girl's abandoned Doc Marten.

I tasted nausea on the tip my tongue, my empty stomach twisting in revulsion. I was going to fucking ruin every one of these satanic bitches once I got the fucking edge over them. I had a fucking weapon.

I didn't give a single flying fuck whether I broke the rules or not. I could easily tackle Trevor from behind, slit his throat open and watch in cold satisfaction as the blood leaked down his neck. Then move onto that scrawny piece of fucking trash.

I suddenly remembered that he'd dragged Trace away. The girl sure had the guts to stand up to the fucking nutter. I clutched the pocket knife tightly in my hand.

My mind plagued with anger and contempt. I wondered what he was going to fucking do to her. First she had to see her guy die and now the psychopath had dragged her so he could abuse her to his heart's fucking desire.

My attention drifted as Trevor climbed down the stairs and casually flipped the hammer up and down in his hand while walking towards the elevator. Where was the fucker going now? Wasn't he supposed to keep his bloody eye on us?

I watched him leisurely push the elevator button with the edge of the hammer and disappear inside the elevator and as he turned around I saw him smirk right at me between the closing doors. I kept watching the elevator as it made its pathetically slow ascent, the blood in my veins burning.

The room suddenly erupted into hysterical screams and shouts and people around me swiveled and started scrambling wildly towards the clubs door.

They started banging on it, kicking and one guy even attempted to break it open with his fist but groaned out in fervent pain as his fist ricocheted off the steel, his knuckles cracking open. He fell back and was swallowed between the swarm of shuffling legs.