Our Bloody Girls (Sequel to The Killer's Girl)

Chapter 23- Sweet, Sweet Revenge

A.N/ Warning before hand, the next few chapters, they aren't going to be pretty. If you aren't afraid of puke, pig tails being ripped off, something special, and mutilating the people who caused history to repeat itself, then read on.

Opal's P.O.V.

I pointed at Claire's house. She was a beautiful blonde, one even I was jealous of. Looking at my dad's cold gaze, I knew he was boiling inside, about ready to explode. Pulling a knife out of his pocket, he glanced at me.

I knocked on her door. Her parents were horrible people. They didn't care about her at all, and left her all this junk food when she was little, causing her to be overweight. She dropped all of it the summer of sixth grade. She started watching what she ate.

No one was home, so my dad, clearly done with waiting, smashed a window and jumped in. He was way too impatient, running right for the stove and frying pan.

I ran upstairs to her room, knocking on the door. She didn't hear me. I knocked again. She didn't hear me. Fuck it. I gave it the hardest kick I could, breaking the lock. Don't fuck with a half-immortal.

She was on her bed, listening to music. She jumped up when I saw her.

"Hey, Opes. What's going on? ... Why the hell did you kick my door down?" She blasted her music so loud she didn't hear the window, good,

"Figured... I'd surprise you." A disturbing grin grew on my face.

"Opes, where's your make up? You look so plain... You can borrow some of mine, yo can't go around looking like that. Is that a plain white hoodie and sweatpants?! Ew! I'm sure I have things for you. Just... Close the shades." Smirking, I did so. While her back was turned, I tackled her to the floor, wrestled her into the bathroom, and banged her head into the tub. This wasn't my friend. After what she did... She was a monster.

When I got her unconscious, I dragged her by her foot downstairs and threw her on the floor.

"Give her a minute, she'll wake up. Hopefully." I crossed my arms and waited. My dad, annoyed after about ten minutes (oops, I was wrong) took a cup of ice cold water and splashed it on her face. She sat up, screaming.

"Welcome to hell, bitch." my dad growled in his cool, calm voice. He had a frying pan of nothing on the stove, two pots of boiling water, some rope, three bottles of a special something,  and hot sauce. Good. I grabbed the rope and tied her to the chair. We should've done that when she was unconscious.

"Shall we start?" he asked. I nodded, smirking, pulling two hair ties out of my pockets and putting her hair up in pigtails. As weird as it sounded, this was our best plan.

"Who are you?!" she screamed at my dad.

"Why, I'm your best friend's daddy. A lot of people describe my killings... Eh... Kinda animalistic. No mercy is every given. No kill is left breathing to tell the tale. Kinda... Kinda like a wolf." His smile grew larger.

"But... Do you know what happens when someone decides to fuck with a male wolf's kids? Like you did to my little girl, Jazz?"

To stop hee screaming, he shoved the bottle of hot sauce in her mouth and began to pour it. She was struggling, and after minutes of just drinking hot sauce, she puked everywhere. We repeated this, again and again, until she couldn't handle it anymore.

Roughly, I grabbed her by the pig tails and dragged her around the house by them until the were ripped off.

After that, my dad brought over two pots of boiling water, and with a cruel look, dipped her feet in it. My hand over her mouth so she couldn't scream, tears streamed down her face.

Then, my dad took the frying pan and put her arm in it. She made little whiny noises, but nothing besides that. Tears poured excessively.

Dad pulled out the last trick, a metal bottle out from his pocket. It was acid I smuggled out of my school's lab. Opening the lid, he splashed it on her face, screams aplenty. Her beautiful skin melted away. He had two more, and repeated the process.

I pulled the knife resting in my pocket and my dad pulled her mouth open. She fidgeted and shook, but to no avail. I cut her tongue out and threw it on the floor. I did the same this to her hands.

The acid had ruined her eyesight, and likely her sense of smell. She barely had anyway to communicate now. The screaming subsided. Was she dead? No, but that wasn't our intention. We put her through hell. Death would be too merciful for her. She'd have to go the rest of her days with a dismembered face, ugly blisters on her feet, no hands, and blind.

Of course, dad wasn't done. He took the knife and carved a smile into her mouth. With that, we walked out.