"You've done this before?" Bella whispered, her voice barely audible over the low hum of the engine.
I gripped the steering wheel tight, my knuckles white under the faint glow of the dashboard. The window was cracked open just enough for the sharp, skunky scent of nearby weed farms to drift into the car, mixing with the stale air inside.
The streets were desolate, cloaked in darkness, with only the occasional streetlight casting weak pools of amber light as we rolled past. The clock on the dash blinked 11:58 PM.
Noah was still out cold back at the house, under Liz's watchful eye—Bella's mom had a knack for keeping things under control.
This time was different, though. Before, we'd kept Noah in the dark about our late-night "errands." Now, he knew exactly what I—or more so what WE were up to, and he didn't just accept it—he pushed us to do it.
That wasn't like him at all. It unnerved me, deep in my gut. If Noah was this far gone, it meant Laura really screwed him over, broken something inside him.
"Yeah, you know about Sara, right? Or, well... knew," I replied, my voice low, almost casual, as I kept my eyes on the empty road. Bella was staring out the passenger window, her face half-shadowed, watching the endless stretch of dark fields blur by.
The distant hum of the city was a faint memory out here—just us, the road, and miles of nothing.
"Holy shit, that was you?" Bella turned her head slightly, her eyes wide with a mix of awe and disbelief. I gave a small nod, letting out a long yawn that seemed to pull one from her too.
"Yeah, that bitch tried tearing me and Noah apart. Even went as far as trying to force herself on him. She's gone now, though. Still remember the sound her head made when I hacked it off—wet, heavy, like a melon hitting concrete." A dark chuckle escaped my lips as the memory flickered in my mind, vivid and raw.
"You've never killed, though, have you, Bella? I know you've messed people up, but taking a life—that's different." I glanced at her as I fished a cigarette from my jacket pocket with one hand, keeping the other steady on the wheel. I didn't smoke often, but goddamn, when I did, it hit just right—a little burn to cut through the tension.
Bella reached over, snagging my lighter from the cupholder and flicking it on, the small flame casting a warm glow on her face as she lit me up. "Nah, I haven't," she said, her voice tinged with a nervous excitement, a little edge of giddiness. "But I've come close... real close."
I took a deep drag, the smoke curling out of my mouth as I grinned. "Well, we're popping that cherry tonight, big dog." My laugh was rough, gravelly, as I held the pack of cigarettes out to her. "Want one? Calm the nerves?"
She shook her head, waving it off with a small smirk. "I'm good. Wanna keep my head clear for this."
I shrugged and tucked the pack away, taking another pull on the cigarette as I turned the wheel, guiding the car into a familiar gravel lot.
The warehouse loomed ahead, unchanged from the last time I'd been here, save for some new graffiti scrawled across the rusted metal siding—angry red and black tags I didn't recognize.
I killed the engine, flicked the cigarette butt out the window, and crushed it under my boot as I stepped out. The night air was cool, heavy with the distant tang of weed and the metallic bite of the industrial zone.
I rounded the car to the back, popping the trunk to grab the duffel bag stashed there. Unzipping it briefly, I checked the contents—ten grand in neat, rubber-banded stacks.
Cheaper than I'd expected for a job like this, but Mary had been satisfied with the first payment. Guess that bought some trust. I slung the bag over my shoulder, the weight of the cash a solid reminder of what we were here to do.
"Ready for this?" I asked Bella, slamming the trunk shut and meeting her eyes over the roof of the car. Her jaw was set, but there was a glint in her gaze—anticipation, maybe even hunger.
This was her first, and I could tell she was itching to cross that line.
I hefted the duffel bag one last time before dropping it with a dull thud on the cracked concrete just outside the warehouse entrance.
Bella stood close, her breath quick and shallow, the tension rolling off her in waves. Mary, my go-to crooked cop with a knack for turning a blind eye, was already waiting for us, her uniform slightly disheveled like she'd just come off a long shift. Her sharp eyes flicked to the bag, then back to me.
"She's in there. Tools and all, just like you asked," Mary said, her voice clipped and businesslike.
She crouched down, snagged the duffel with a practiced grip, and unzipped it just enough to peek at the cash. Satisfied, she slung it over her shoulder.
"I'll be taking my leave now. Don't call me unless it's done." Without another word, she turned on her heel, her boots crunching on the gravel outside as she hightailed it to her unmarked cruiser and peeled out, taillights disappearing into the night.
I let out a long, heavy sigh, the weight of the moment settling on my shoulders like a lead blanket. Turning to Bella, I searched her face for any sign of hesitation.
"This is it. You can still back out if you want. No judgment." My voice was steady, but I meant it. This wasn't a game, and I almost cracked under the pressure before.
Bella's eyes, though—fuck, they were cold as ice, burning with something dark and unstoppable.
She didn't even blink. "Let's go," she muttered, her voice low and resolute, like the decision was made long before we got here. In her mind, the target was already a corpse. There was no turning back for her.
I gave a short nod and pushed open the heavy steel door, the hinges groaning under the weight.
The warehouse opened up before us, a cavernous, damp space reeking of rust and old oil. The setup was exactly as I remembered from last time—a single rusted metal chair bolted to the floor in the center, surrounded by a scattering of tools on a rickety folding table.
Hammers, pliers, a rusted hacksaw, a couple of knives with chipped blades, and a roll of duct tape, all laid out like a surgeon's kit. Above, a single flickering bulb hung from a frayed cord, casting jittery shadows across the concrete floor and the figure slumped in the chair.
She was tied down tight, wrists and ankles bound with thick rope, her head hanging low, chin against her chest.
Her dark hair was matted with sweat or blood—hard to tell in this light—and her clothes were torn, a stained hoodie and ripped jeans.
She stirred awake as we stepped inside, the door slamming shut behind us with a metallic echo that rang through the empty space.
I glanced at Bella, her face unreadable but her fists clenched at her sides. "She's all yours," I said, gesturing toward the chair. "Take your time. Think about what she did to Noah. Let it fuel you." I stepped over to the table, picking up a knife and testing its edge against my thumb—just sharp enough. "Or I can start, show you how it's done. Your call."
Bella didn't answer right away. She just stared at the woman, her breathing steadying as she took a slow step forward, then another, like a predator sizing up prey.
"No," she finally said, her voice quieter now but laced with something raw. "I want to feel it. Every second of it." Her eyes flicked to the tools, lingering on the hacksaw. "Where do I start?"
I glared at Laura, my voice cold and unyielding. "Finger nails. Let her know how it felt when she did the same to our Noah," I said, my tone sharp enough to cut through the stale air of the warehouse.
My fingers twitched at my sides, rage simmering just beneath the surface. I was seconds away from ending her right then and there, but no—I had to stay patient.
This wasn't just about killing her. It was about making her feel every ounce of pain she'd inflicted.
Bella gave a curt nod, her expression hard as she stepped toward Laura. The woman was slumped in the metal chair, her wrists bound tight with coarse rope that dug into her skin, leaving angry red marks.
Another length of rope was tied across her face, gagging her mouth and muffling any attempt to scream. Her eyes, wide with terror, darted between us as Bella approached.
Bella reached for the pliers on the folding table nearby, the dim light of the warehouse glinting off the silver finish. She turned the tool over in her hand for a moment, almost as if weighing the cruelty of what she was about to do.
Then, without a word, she grabbed Laura's trembling hand, her grip firm and unyielding. Laura's eyes snapped open wider, pure panic flooding her face as Bella positioned the pliers over her thumb nail.
Laura shook her head frantically, her muffled pleas barely audible through the gag. Her body jerked against the restraints, but there was no escape.
Then, with a swift, brutal tug, Bella ripped the nail clean off. A raw, guttural scream tore through Laura's throat, barely stifled by the rope in her mouth. Her body convulsed in the chair, tears streaming down her dirt-streaked face as the sharp, burning pain took hold.
"This is what you get, you piece of shit," Bella hissed, her voice low and venomous. "This is how Noah felt, and you didn't give a damn." She didn't stop there.
One by one, she moved to each finger, the pliers clamping down with ruthless precision. Each nail came off with a sickening crack, followed by Laura's choked sobs and desperate, muffled cries. Blood trickled from the raw, exposed nail beds, pooling on the concrete floor beneath the chair. The metallic scent hung heavy in the air.
By the time Bella finished with both hands, Laura was a gasping, trembling mess. Her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe through the pain, her face pale and slick with sweat and tears.
Her muffled whimpers echoed in the empty warehouse, the sound bouncing off the cold, bare walls.
I stepped up beside Bella, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Great job," I said, my voice steady with a grim satisfaction. I could see the faint tremor in Bella's hand as she set the pliers back on the table, but her face remained resolute.
We weren't done yet.
Not even close.
I turned my gaze to Laura, her broken form barely holding together in the chair. Then I looked back at Bella, a dark edge in my tone.
"What do you think she deserves next?" I asked, giving her the chance to decide. I wanted Laura to suffer, to beg for mercy that would never come. "Make it hurt."
Bella's eyes gleamed with a twisted kind of glee as she clapped her hands together. "Oooh! I know! Let's pull out her teeth!" she exclaimed, her voice brimming with excitement.
I couldn't help but chuckle at her enthusiasm, the sound low and dark as it echoed in the cavernous warehouse.
She passed me the bloodied pliers, still warm from the earlier torment, and I stepped forward to Laura's trembling form.
With a quick tug, I yanked the gag from her mouth, the rope leaving red welts across her cheeks. The second it was off, her voice spilled out in a pathetic torrent of excuses and pleas.
"Please, I swear, this wasn't supposed to happen! It was an accident! I didn't mean—" Her words were a desperate, slurred mess, and I didn't bother listening to a single one.
Total bullshit. My patience was long gone.
"Let's see," I muttered, leaning in close to inspect her bloodied face. "Oof, this one looks like it'll be painful." I clamped the pliers around her front tooth, the metal scraping against the enamel with a grating sound.
Her eyes widened in fresh terror, her breath hitching.
"Say cheese!" I sneered, and with a brutal yank, I ripped the tooth clean out. Blood sprayed from her gum, splattering across her chin and onto the concrete below, looking like something straight out of a gory video game cutscene.
Her scream tore through the air, raw and piercing, as her head thrashed against the back of the chair.
Bella and I burst into laughter, the sound harsh and cruel as we watched the pathetic mess of blood and tears streaming down her face. "Can I do the other one?" Bella asked eagerly, practically bouncing on her heels. I nodded, a smirk tugging at my lips as I handed her the pliers.
Bella positioned herself right in front of Laura, her grin wide and malicious. She clamped the pliers onto the neighboring front tooth, the one that had just been next to the gap I'd created.
"Hmm, dentist, I think we have a problem!" she said in a mocking, sing-song tone before wrenching the tooth free with a sickening pop.
More blood gushed out, pooling on the floor beneath Laura's chair as her sobs turned into choked, pitiful whimpers. We both laughed again, the cruelty of it all fueling the dark amusement.
Blood had splattered onto Bella's shirt, dotting the fabric with crimson, but we were prepared this time—extra clothes waited in the trunk of the car outside.
"Pleathe... no... more..." Laura gasped, her voice slurred and broken through the gaps in her mouth, blood dribbling down her chin as she cried. Her head lolled weakly, but her chest still heaved with ragged breaths.
I shook my head, stepping closer, my voice dripping with venom. "No, no, no. You deserve this, you fucking pig." I spat directly into her face, the saliva mixing with the blood and tears already streaking her skin.
Something snapped in me then, a surge of raw, unbridled rage. I lost control completely. My hands shot up, and I dug my thumbs into her eyes, pressing with ruthless force.
Her scream was like a wounded animal's, high-pitched and desperate, as she writhed helplessly in the chair. I didn't stop. I scooped her eyeballs out, rough and relentless, my fingers slick with blood as I tore them free, leaving nothing but hollow, gaping sockets in her face.
Miraculously, she was still alive, her chest shuddering with shallow, pained breaths.
I stepped back, my own breathing heavy and erratic, staring at the carnage. Her eyes lay discarded on the floor, grotesque and surreal, like something ripped from a horror flick. Blood oozed from the empty sockets, trickling down her cheeks in dark, sticky trails.
"Looks like she's still alive after that..." I said, my voice rough, almost disbelieving, as I wiped my hands on my jeans. My pulse hammered in my ears, the rush of adrenaline mingling with a cold, hollow satisfaction.
I glanced at Bella, waiting to see what she'd suggest next, the air thick with the metallic scent of blood and the weight of what we'd done.
"I'm gonna kill her..." Bella hissed, her voice dripping with venom as she snatched a massive, serrated knife from the cluttered table. "Take a pic," she ordered, striking a menacing pose with the blade pressed against Laura's pale, bruised neck.
Laura was out cold, her body limp from the agony she'd endured earlier. I'd checked her pulse just seconds ago—still alive, barely.
I fished my phone from my pocket, the cold metal brushing against my fingertips, and snapped a few shots.
The flash illuminated Bella's wild, unhinged grin and the glint of the knife. These were memories worth keeping. As soon as I slid the phone back into my jeans, Bella's demeanor shifted.
She started slicing with brutal, unrelenting force. The sickening sound of flesh tearing filled the room, accompanied by wet, choking gurgles from Laura's throat.
It dragged me back to when I'd done the same to Sara—same desperate gurgling, same finality. Except I'd gone for a swift, clean chop to the neck. Bella, though, was savage, sawing deep with a twisted glee plastered across her face.
"Die, you fucking animal," she growled under her breath, her hands slick with blood as she hacked through sinew and bone.
The knife grated against something hard—spine, probably—before Laura's head finally gave way.
It detached with a sick thud, rolling off her torso and hitting the floor with a dull, wet smack.
Blood sprayed in a violent arc, splattering Bella's shirt, my sweater, and the grimy tiles beneath us. The dark crimson pooled around our feet, soaking into the cracks, staining the floor in a way that'd never come out.
"FINALLY, SHE'S GONE!" Bella bellowed, her laughter erupting like a dam bursting. She doubled over, clutching her sides, then let out a long, satisfied sigh. "God, that was..." She trailed off, her chest heaving as she exhaled again, almost serene.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" I said, smirking as I surveyed the carnage. "Damn, Mary's gonna lose her mind trying to clean this mess up."
Bella's eyes softened for a moment, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I need to see Noah." I stepped forward, gripping her blood-smeared arms and pulling her to her feet.
I wrapped her in a tight hug, the metallic tang of blood mingling with the sweat on her skin. "Thank you," I murmured, staring deep into her glassy, exhausted eyes. "You're like the sister I never had but always wanted."
Bella nodded, her lips trembling as tears threatened to spill. "Thank you, Elara," she choked out, her voice thick with emotion.
"Now, let's go cuddle our husband," I said with a grin, guiding her toward the door, away from the gruesome scene behind us.
We stumbled outside into the cool night air, the coppery stench of death still clinging to us.
Without a word, we stripped down to our underwear, peeling off the blood-soaked clothes with shaky hands. The fabric was heavy, drenched in gore, and we tossed the pile onto the rough concrete.
I rummaged in the car for a moment, retrieving a lighter from the cup holder. Flicking it on, I held the tiny flame to the heap of clothing. The fire caught quickly, devouring the evidence in seconds, reducing it to a smoldering pile of ash that scattered in the faint breeze.
The orange glow reflected in Bella's eyes as we stood there, half-naked and raw, watching the last traces of the night's violence disappear into nothing.
"Peace... finally," I muttered, feeling the cool night breeze wash over my bare skin, raising goosebumps along my arms and legs.
The air was sharp, cutting through the lingering heat of adrenaline still pumping in my veins. I glanced at Bella, her face softened by the faint glow of the dying fire, ash swirling in the wind around us.
Her chest rose and fell with deep, steady breaths, as if shedding every ounce of rage she'd carried just minutes ago.
"Feels like the weight's gone," she murmured, her voice low, almost lost in the rustle of leaves nearby.
Her eyes flicked to mine, a quiet understanding passing between us. The blood, the violence, the mess—it was behind us now, reduced to nothing but embers and memory.