Pressure - By Jeff Strand Page 0,88
teeth. It wasn’t all that long ago that I’d had a gun in my mouth, wishing desperately for the courage to pull the trigger, but those times were no longer. I didn’t want to die. And I was not going to die like this, at Darren’s hands.
“Were you just gonna splatter my brains against the wall and then dance on out of here?”
He thrust forward with the gun so that it hit the back of my throat. My gag reflexes went berserk and I grabbed his hand to try to pull it free, but he kept the gun in place.
“Puke on it,” he said.
And as he jammed it forward even farther, I did just that.
He removed the gun and I doubled over, coughing and gagging. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said. “Were you going to splatter my brains and dance on out of here?”
I spat on the floor and then wiped my mouth off on my sleeve. “Why was the gun empty?”
“Because it was a test.”
“So you were going to kill me and leave?”
“No. When you pulled the trigger at three we were going to have ourselves a nice little laugh, and then I was going to load the gun.”
“Bullshit!”
“Bullshit yourself. I don’t know how much you’ve read up on suicide pacts, but they only work with people you can trust. Thread your fingers together and put them behind your head, execution style.”
I spat up some more vomit, just missing his shoe. “Screw you.”
“Do it.”
“No.”
“That’s not an option.”
“I’m making my own options.”
Darren stared down at me. I stared up at him right back.
Blink first, you motherfucker.
We held the stare.
Darren blinked first.
“All right,” he said. “Maybe you passed the second test.”
“I slept in their blood,” I told him.
He furrowed his brow. “Whose blood?”
“My wife and daughter’s. After you killed them. I slept in their blood.”
“Did you now?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that was an odd thing to do.”
“And I finished the job you did. You missed some parts.”
“Is that so?”
“It’s the truth.” I’ll kill you for making me say these things.
“Gee, somehow I have this crazy feeling that you’re screwing with me again, Alex.”
“I kept pieces of them. You were right, I’m a sick person. We both are.”
“So, gee, tell me, what piece of Melanie did you keep?”
“Her nipple.”
“Oh, dude, you are a sick person, just for making that shit up! Even I don’t slice off nipples. Not my arena.”
“I keep it with me.”
“What’d you do, make a ring out of it?”
“I keep it in my pocket.”
“Eeww, so it’s all linty and stuff, huh? I sure hope you’ve never run it through the washer accidentally.”
“It’s in a box.”
“Nipple in a box, huh? Do you ever stick it on and wear it? Now that would be some messed-up, kinky shit.”
“I’ve never worn it. I just look at it.”
“Wasted opportunity.”
“And touch it.”
“Freaky.”
“And taste it.”
“Okay, you’ve almost got me believing you now, you wacky pervert!”
“Do you want to see it?”
“Oh, sure, let me see the souvenir nipple. That’d be swell.”
I slowly lowered my arms and stood up. Darren stepped back a bit but didn’t try to stop me.
“Do you want to take it out?” I asked.
“No, no, actually, I think I’ll just trust you on the whole nipple thing.”
“It’s in my pocket right now.”
“I believe you.”
“Do you know what else I did to them?” I asked.
Lose focus for one second just one second…
“What’s that?”
“I rearranged their bodies, and I soaked up some of their blood, and then I—”
I smashed my palm into his hand, bashing it and the gun he held into his face. The blow took him completely by surprise and got him in the upper cheek, sadly missing his eyeball by a couple of inches.
Before he could recover, I tried to wrench the gun out of his grip. I gave up on that after a few seconds and smashed the gun into his face a second time, getting him in the mouth. Shards of broken teeth sprayed from his lips as he stumbled but kept his balance.
I dove at him, tackling him to the floor. The impact took our combined breath away, but I had so much adrenaline rushing through my body that I barely even felt it.
As he tried to point the gun at me, I smashed my fist against his lower arm as hard as I could, hoping to snap it in two. I didn’t break any of his bones, but the gun did fall to the floor.
He jerked his head up and bit my arm. His broken, jagged teeth pierced my flesh,