| |
Dylan Robinson took over the car dealership after his dad had his heart attack. He had been waiting for years to say the dealership was officially his. Being a Robinson in this town meant something. They were looked up to. He craved power. Even in school it gave him a superiority complex. In any other town Dylan would be a peon, here he was a member of the elite.
The Traveler watched as Dylan walked to his Lexus. Of course, Dylan couldn’t drive a car from his family’s dealership. Whatever vehicle he drove must have snob appeal, a show of money. Even the way Dylan dressed screamed money, from his Armani double-breasted suit, and crisp white shirt with his red silk tie.
Dylan would be the first one in line for retribution. For years Dylan tormented The Traveler. Now it was his turn. Dylan would experience pain like he had never imagined.
The Traveler was pleased with the disguise David came up with for him. Unless he told you who he was, you would never know.
The Traveler walked up to Dylan's car and knocked on the window. "Dylan, long time old buddy."
Dylan couldn’t place the face, but if there was a chance this guy wanted to buy a car, he would play along. "How have you been?"
"You don’t recognize me, do you?"
Dylan didn’t recognize the man at all. “I’m sorry, but I’m having a hard time putting a name to the face."
The Traveler gave him a sinister leer. “That’s okay. I came back in town to settle some old debts. You're the first."
Dylan felt a shock run through his body. That was the last thing he remembered.
***
DYLAN HEARD A VOICE talking to him, waking him up. The person sounded far off. The Traveler heard Dylan moaning, but he still hadn’t woken up. He couldn’t wait any longer, he was ready for Dylan to wake up and face his demons. The Traveler grabbed a bucket of water and dumped it over Dylan’s head.
Dylan was awake now. He was cursing up a storm, muttering all kinds of profanities. A hint of alarm reached his voice when he realized he was immobile.
"I need you awake, so I can show you who is in control. I have a buddy who wants to help me, but I have to warn you he's been compiling a list of various torture techniques. They are indeed quite intriguing. He is feeling rather impatient right now, as he has been unable to experiment with his tortures in a while. I’m afraid that he may not be able to control himself."
David looked over at The Traveler, "I haven’t decided which torture our first victim should undergo. There are so many to choose from.”
“Well, my friend, I say this one needs to be buried, so the ants can play with him. He always had a way about him with the ladies; maybe the ants will find him just as sweet.”
“I like the way you think."
“It’s a quirk of mine, but I must super glue his penis closed. I've been told the pain is excruciating."
Dylan was still secured to the chair, for the time being. His wrists were bloody from where the straps had cut into him. He had desperately been trying to escape, but the restraints refused to budge.
"So, Dylan, you remember all those years of hell you put me through? Now it's my turn. I seem to remember you telling me God should never have given me a pecker, because I would never use it. Well, now you won't use yours ever again.” Pure venom dripped from The Traveler's words. Hatred seeped from his very pores. The veins in The Traveler's neck bulged with every word he spoke. “It’s time for reckoning, Dylan.”
When Dylan looked into his captor’s eyes, he realized who this man was. With sickening clarity, he knew he was doomed. There was no way this man would let him escape. He would finally pay for the sins of his past. His only hope was reasoning with the man, but from the look in his eyes that may not be possible. “We were kids back then. It was harmless fun.”
“Well then, I plan on having some harmless fun with you too; my fun may be a little more painful.”
Dylan always thought he had a high tolerance for pain, but the pain associated with the super glue going into his penis had to be the worst he had ever felt. He couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down his cheeks.
"Aww, what's wrong, Dylan? Not man enough for the pain? What kind of man are you? My friend here grew up in your social circle, but he treats me with respect. We are kindred spirits.
“I should warn you, though. He is an escaped convict. He killed over nineteen women, before the police captured him. Don’t worry, though; I’m not ready to kill you just yet. I want you to endure the torment for as long as I can keep you alive. Your friends will be joining you shortly."
Dylan hated this feeling of complete powerlessness. He's always been the one in control.
***
IT WOULD TAKE SOME time to dig the hole, and The Traveler still wanted to have some fun with him before burying him. After he applied the super glue, he pulled out a knife. He made slow, steady cuts on Dylan’s chest, making sure each one was more consistent with a nick than anything deeper. After each cut, The Traveler rubbed salt into the wound. He watched Dylan’s eyes dilate with fear, then pain with each cut. After a while, Dylan was squirming and writhing in agony. His eyes were dull and glassy. It would do him no good to have Dylan die too early. Where would the entertainment be in that, after all?
Once David finished digging the hole, he felt his control slipping. He had watched his friend torture the man slowly and deliberately. "Come on, my friend, I need to quench this hunger I have."
“I don’t want you to lose control, just yet. I want to keep him alive a bit longer. Once he has served his purpose, we can dispose of his body here. I managed to capture two hogs today and one is a big mean sow. In a few days, they will be good and hungry."
David knew he couldn’t kill the man, but he still felt a need to implement some kind of pain on him. He needed the rush desperately, he was having major withdrawals. Picking up a hammer from one of the workbenches, he strolled over to Dylan. After checking the straps, he picked up the hammer and took aim for one of Dylan’s feet. With a mighty swing, the hammer made contact with Dylan’s foot. In that instant, you heard bones crunching. The man’s screams were music to his ears. He repeated the process on the other foot and then his hands. By the time David was done, he had managed to break both of Dylan’s hands and feet. When Dylan passed out from the pain, they transferred him to the hole and buried him neck deep. They would wait for him to wake up again before removing his eyelids. That pleasure would go to The Traveler.
Even after being tortured, Dylan had a pompous arrogance about him. After hours of torture, Dylan still didn’t understand that money wouldn't save him. The Traveler would break him.
***
INTENSE PAIN PULLED Dylan out of unconsciousness. He felt as if his face was on fire, and for some reason, he couldn’t move from the neck down. He looked down and realized he was buried from the neck down in a hole. He remembered now where he was. He began to panic when he realized the crawling sensation on his face must be the ants as they bit into his tender flesh. He tried to blow a puff of air through his nose to expel the ants that were in there. They were crawling all over his eyes and in his ears. He tilted his head one way, then the next to extract them from his ears. He couldn’t scream or they would crawl into his mouth. His eyes darted around to see a long, steady line heading his way.
***
DAVID WAS THRILLED with the prospect of starting on his list of macabre tortures. He planned to start a journal of sorts to keep track of his successes.
To help with disposal of the bodies, they had previously set up the wood chipper The Traveler discovered in the shed. This would allow them to dispose of the body straight into the pig pens. The pigs should devour the remains, as if they were a delicacy. Now, David was finally free to work without any limitations.
***
JOSH THOMPSON WONDERED where his oldest brother was. It wasn’t like Dylan to be late. Dylan had to be the greediest person he knew. That man dreamed of money.
Josh tried Dylan's cell phone, but the call went straight to voicemail. His car was here, but he was nowhere around. Josh was starting to worry. His brother never missed a call. Hell, he probably answered the phone while banging some chick.
There was no answer at Dylan's house either. Where the hell could that man be?
Josh called his parents’ house. "Mom, is Dylan over there by any chance?"
"No, hun, I haven't seen him."
Where the hell was he then? "If you see him, please have him call me."
"You know Dylan; he's probably at the dealership."
"Yes ma'am. I'm heading there now.” There was no sense worrying her right now.
Josh decided to open up and wait. It wasn’t like he couldn’t run the business.
By lunchtime, no one had seen or heard from Dylan. Dylan still wasn’t answering his cell phone either. Josh decided it was time to go ask Sheriff Ourso for help. The Sheriff’s Office wasn’t far from the dealership, so Josh decided to walk over there. On the way back, he could pick up some lunch. It was too nice of a day to drive, and the exercise would do him some good. Unlike his brother Dylan, Josh always had a hard time with his weight and he wanted to lose a few extra pounds.
Josh noticed the receptionist at the Sheriff’s Office and his palms became sweaty. He had had a crush on Nancy Jarvis since high school, but she probably didn’t even know he existed. “Good afternoon, Nancy. Is Sheriff Ourso in?”
“Hi Josh, how have you been doing? Sheriff Ourso is in his office. I’ll let him know you are here.”
“Thank you so much, and I’m fine by the way. So, how are things going for you?” Josh couldn’t believe he was having a conversation with her. He bumbled through his words just to keep the conversation going.
“It’s good. I’m so ready for lunch, though. Today is dragging by. It’s been really quiet, which is good, I guess.”
Josh gathered up his nerve and asked, “Well, if you are interested, after I speak with Sheriff Ourso, I can take you out to lunch.”
Nancy felt her pulse quicken a little; she couldn’t believe that Josh Robinson had just asked her out. “I would love that.”
Nancy called back to Sheriff Ourso’s office. “Sir, Josh Robinson is here to see you.”
Sheriff Ourso wondered what in the world Josh Robinson would need to see him for. “Send him on back.”
“Afternoon, Mr. Robinson, what brings you over here?”
“Sheriff, have you seen Dylan? I can’t find him anywhere. I’ve tried his cell and home phone, but he isn’t answering either. I’m worried. This isn’t like him. You and I both know his world revolves around work.”
Sheriff Ourso knew Josh meant to say money, but let it drop. “I haven’t seen him. I can send out a patrol car to his house. Have you tried his girlfriend? Maybe he stayed there last night.”
“Dylan doesn’t have a regular girlfriend. He didn’t mention anything about a date last night.”
“We’ll check things out and let you know. Maybe he is finally taking a break and enjoying life.”