“What did this guy do?” I ask, my voice strained.
“He was just acquitted of raping his fifteen-year-old grandson. Not enough evidence, the judge said. Despite the mountain of pictures of bruises around the kid’s neck that matched the guy’s handprints and the semen sample on the boy's shorts. ”
“Sounds like the judge should've been killed, too,” I mutter snidely, then grab my pliers and begin forcefully yanking out his teeth. When I'm finished, I drop them in the grinder on my table. With the press of a button, it grinds them down to powder, making them easy to dispose of later.
Next, I turn on the Sawzall and begin cutting into flesh. Crimson splatters onto my gloved hands, face, and chest. Behind me, I hear my pigs snorting loudly beneath the ear-piercing sound of the saw cutting through bone.
Now that they have a steady diet of human remains, they tend to get rowdy once they catch a whiff of blood. It used to freak me out, but then I decided that the predators they were eating were far worse than the beasts consuming them.
After I'm done, his arms, legs, and head are removed from his torso. I move the body parts out of the way, then sweep my arm across the table, wiping the excess blood onto the plastic-covered floor for easy cleanup later.
“And this one?” I ask tersely, breaking the tense silence while I remove the clothing from the second man. He appears well into his seventies, covered in liver spots.
“That's the judge.”
I purse my lips, feeling, rather than seeing, his amusement.
“Did you kill them?” I question, realizing that in the nine years I’ve been gone, a lot could have changed with Cage.
“No. Legion handles that.”
Legion is an underground organization run by an elusive no-face man named after his company, who employs hitmen to take out whoever they deem necessary. They specifically target those who frequent the dark web, and much like their sister organization, Z, they go after pedophiles.
While Z focuses on the trafficking rings and larger operations, Legion was formed to focus on the smaller fish—the psychopaths who lurk in plain sight, fitting into society as the blue-collar working class or with their corporate desk jobs, all the while wreaking havoc on innocent souls when they clock out.
Though, Legion sees them for who they really are. Wolves in sheep's clothing. Beasts in human skin.
Cage is quiet as I trim the judge’s wispy, thin hair, then remove his dentures and the few remaining teeth and start up the Sawzall again, dismembering him quickly. Except the second I finish silencing the machine, his deep, oceanic voice is back.
“When did you start working for Legion?”
I take a steady breath, grabbing two severed arms and walking them over to the first pen with Dill and Chili inside. I toss an annoyed glance toward Cage on the way, but his expectant expression doesn't budge.
“Not long after I came back. I bought this farm on a whim. It was cheap, secluded, and came with the pigs. I was going to get rid of them, but then I realized they could be useful. I could be useful.”
The arms go flying into the pen, and Dill and Chili don't hesitate to tear into them. Pivoting, I head back toward the table and grab two legs. I heave them up, and when Cage steps toward me as if to help me, I shoot him a warning glare.
I’ve never needed a man to do the heavy lifting for me before, and I sure as fuck don’t now. I’m more than capable .
Garlic and Paprika are fed next, and Cage doesn't remove his burning stare from me for a single second.
It sets me aflame, like a fever ravaging my insides. I'm short of breath, my palms are sweaty, and my knees are weak. I'd love to pretend that it's because he makes me sick, but my tightened nipples and the faint thrum between my thighs speak otherwise. He holds my body beneath his thumb, ready to betray me when my head demands control.
“I still had Legion's contact info and reached out. Told him I wanted to help snuff every piece-of-shit pedophile from this planet, and how I planned to do it. He was happy to oblige.” I end my explanation with a shrug, before grabbing the two severed heads.
Oregano always gets the heads. She's the momma of the bunch—and the biggest.
He's quiet again, seeming to contemplate that as he watches Oregano bite into the judge's head, cracking it open like a watermelon.
“When did you start working for him?” I ask quietly.
“I don't. I still own my store, Black Portal. However, Legion’s a friend, so when he needs help, I give him a hand.”
I nod, turning my gaze back to my pigs. They were already named when I inherited them, and when I first heard what they were, I thought they were stupid. Who names pigs after seasoning?