Double Trouble

I panted as I faced them. Those monsters. They were a horrifying force of nature, one that even I feared facing.

I wanted to taste them.

Even more so now than when I had first claimed them as my own. So ordinary they appeared to me. White couple. Typical economy car. Both young, no kids and starting new careers.

They were perfect. Ripe.

I was ready to peel the skin off his face. Then I wanted to slice up his pig carcass and taste what kind of meat he was made of. Would he cry for mercy? Or would he grit his teeth until they shattered?

After I finished playing with him, I shivered while imagining the delights laying in store for his bitch. These fantasies were all part of the hunt, appetizers for the main course.

I followed the pig to his workshop, one cloudy night. The wind rustling the leaves as I quietly crept up. My pigsticker was clenched in my fist, and I held my breath as he fumbled for the keys in the dim light.

I struck.

So sweet was the moment.

But the knife whistled gently and how sharp were this pig's ears. He put his hand up and I claimed two of his fingers.

With a click his door opened and he vanished. My second strike swept through empty air. Lucky fucker.

The moment was gone. Lost.

I hissed through my teeth and bit my lip till it bled. My tongue tasted my blood as I swore vengeance.

It was only a few seconds. I stepped over his two fingers, lying on the ground. There was a trail of blood waiting for me inside, as I quietly traced his death.

A rattle of metal.

The tool shed was dark, but not enough that I couldn't follow his scarlet trail.

It ended suddenly, between two closed doors.

There were no marks or bloody fingerprints to be found. My stomach tightened anxiously. One door led outside, the other must have been a closet. The wrong choice would delay the precious, precious time I wanted with my plaything.

I picked outside and swung open the door. The night air was chilly and there was no sign of sticky blood. Nothing but the rustling of the leaves.

Then, a sharp whine.

I spun around to see a yellow blur and jolted away as fast as I could.

My forehead burned. The blur was an electric handsaw. Holding it in his left hand the bastard jabbed it at me and I jumped away again. "You have some balls." He snarled as I wiped the blood from my eyes.

The saw whined as we faced one another. "That was a nice little trick there," I said calmly. "I didn't think there'd be any fight in you."

The pig barked a short laugh. He wiped his mouth and I saw his right hand was already bandaged up with a piece of his shirt. "No fight? You are so fucked."

Raising the saw he charged at me, eyes wide with fury.

I sidestepped him deftly. His first attack was a surprise, nothing more.

But as I brought my knife down on his exposed back, my left shoulder exploded in pain.

In the doorway stood the bitch herself. She was holding a crossbow and was readying another shot.

Shit.

The whine cut through my thoughts and I turned my head back to see the handsaw flying towards it.

SHIT.

My pigsticker went up. It lost against the hand saw. It flew out of my hand with a spark and mangled a few of my fingers.

Hate poured forth. I loathed those swine. Their redness was the only color I wanted to see. I wanted to bathe in their insides until my skin was as crimson as a beating heart.

I grabbed his arm and pulled him in front of me. This was when the sow fired again.

He screamed.

She screamed.

I laughed.

But it was a short moment, my joy. For the bolt was not deep in his back. He spat at me and roared to his wife, "You'll pay for that later."

"Oh yeah?" She replied in a condescending sneer. "Well I'll just wear your slut's skin next time you fuck me. Did you think I wouldn't find out who you were messing around with?"

Jesus Christ.

I can't believe I walked into this garbage. Pigs squealing in their sty.

Time for Problem Solver.

I pull out my .22 Sig Sauer with a suppressor. The wife laughs at her husband as he stiffens up.

Maybe this happens often.

"Go ahead." She goads me. "Kill him. He's a piece of shit anyway."

"Fuck you, Nicole." He spits. "You were like screwing a dead body. Maybe that's why I never killed you."

"You never had the balls, asshole. I'll wear your teeth around my neck."

"Maybe that will distract people from your face."

I couldn't tell what was causing me more pain. My head or my shoulder.

Or perhaps this entire bizarre situation. They needed to shut up and die. Any thrill of the hunt was quickly turning sour.

The husband held up his saw and looked me in the eye. "Kill her first and I'll help dispose of her body. We can continue this fight later."