Into the Wolves' Den

by Jon Athan

Their parents lectured them about dangerous perverts, but they didn’t teach them how to fight—how to survive.

He wasn’t the creepy, old, out-of-shape child predator her mother had warned her about. And that terrified her.

Keith opened the refrigerator again, as if cooked food would magically appear the second time.

Her body emitted a sour stench. It seeped into the cracks on the ground and stained the brick walls. Like a loud, obnoxious actor, it had a dominant presence in the room—the center of attention.

Boyfriends—in Vanessa’s world, the word meant ‘clients.’ Even at a young age, she traded her body for money.

You’re the big bad Wolf. Mr. Wolf, right? And this…” He looked around the living room again. He said, “This is the Wolves’ Den.” “That’s right. One of many I operate across the country.”

He was suffocating slowly, choking on his own balls.

“Why me? I catch cheaters, I find runaway wives, I follow men on business trips. I find dirt on people. That’s it. I should be working for Jerry Springer, not you.”

He threw the severed cheek at Allen. It hit the wall beside him with a splat, like a wet slice of bologna,

stab, saw, sever, stab, saw, sever.

The remaining bits of muscle on his chest resembled ground beef,

The walls were decorated with graffiti and bird shit.

maybe he saw some underground horror movie, maybe he has an overactive imagination. But he recognized the fear in the boy’s eyes and voice. He saw it in some of his unlucky peers, too.

Why are you doing this to us? We were good kids. We didn’t do anything wrong…”

“Cook up some more of that meat for me, will ya? That bastard annoyed the hell out of me, but damn was he delicious. I love Thai food!”

He couldn’t call him ‘boy,’ so he called him ‘kid.’ He got under his skin to show him who was boss.

His swollen face was red, white, and blue, like the American flag.

He felt like his penis was set ablaze, he felt the shaft burning, but it wasn’t even attached to his body anymore. Phantom pain was a terrifying phenomenon.

Murder was a jarring experience. He kept telling himself: he was a pedophile, most people would have done the same, he deserved it.

“I–I don’t get it. Wha–What is this? Why are you doing this to me, brother?” “Don’t call me ‘brother.’ Call me ‘executioner.’ Let’s begin.”

At that moment, during his worst suffering, he cried for the only person he trusted in Montaño—Officer Keith Klein.

He planned on covering the entire left side of his body in thumbtacks, one by one.

From his scalp to his toes, hundreds of colorful thumbtacks covered the left side of his body.

Thumbtacks fell out of him just as new pins stabbed him.

He saw the Devil in Riley’s eyes.

Dwight trudged out of the room. He ignored Dale. As far as he knew, Uncle Oinks was a pain-induced hallucination.

He tasted her fear, he savored it.

The bruises replaced her freckles. The freckles were beaten off her face.

Her sister—once a vibrant, funny, and intelligent girl—was reduced to a slab of cold meat.

“You know, it’s kind of your fault. I didn’t do anything to you, but you attacked me. Look at what you did to my face. My soft, beautiful face… It’s nothing compared to what I did to your sister. That’s what you’re thinking, right? But I’m a model. I’m a celebrity. I was supposed to star in movies. You’ve made that much more difficult for me. You… You might have destroyed my career. So, in a sense, you killed me. A life for a life. That’s fair, isn’t it?”

“No, no, no. That’s one thing I can’t do. I love talking. I love the sound of my voice.

I can sell her to some millionaire in the Middle East looking for a child bride, to a cartel looking for a foreign prostitute or a drug mule, or to the Chinese so they can harvest her organs. That girl is money. She. Is. Money.”

Nasty men love innocent things.”

She starved his sadomasochism by bottling her pain and refusing to give him a reaction.

And I don’t want you to see what I’ve become. I–I’m a bad man, honey. I’m a very bad man.”

The footprints also said: you’re getting close.

Prosecutors weren’t eager to imprison a local hero after all.

Ashamed of his failures, Keith avoided his family, but he moved to Los Angeles to stay close to them. He watched them grow, heal, and expand.

It had been decades since his last smile.

her hair stayed as brown as milk chocolate.

Blood and brains erupted from the exit wound and splashed across the clean floor, like chunky beef stew from a fallen bowl.

“I love this shit, man. I can… I can play a paraplegic now and none of those sensitive bastards can complain a–about ‘appropriation.’ Thank you for… for supporting my career. My biggest fan.”

“You’re never going to play a paraplegic because you’re not getting out of here alive.”

“They won’t… They won’t ever know about this party, you imbecile. I paid… I paid them. The…” He cackled deliriously, then, with a full breath of air, he shouted, “The police chief was here! He was here!”

Blood spouted out of his arm like water from a drinking fountain.

“Don’t act stupid now. You know what you did and you know what I’m doing. I wish I could torture you for seventeen days and nights. That’s how long my daughters were missing, so I always thought that would be the most… ‘appropriate’ revenge. But it looks like we’re out of time. So, what’s the most painful way to die? Hmm? You’re the expert, aren’t you? What should I do to you?”

“You gouged her eyes out. So, let’s follow the rules of vengeance. An eye for an eye, as they say.” He pulled a stainless-steel spoon out of his duffel bag.

He wiggled the spoon in his eye socket—up and down, up and down, up and down.

The optic nerve and the other muscles attached to his eye were severed. He pulled it out of the socket, blood dripping from the torn arteries and nerves. Then he dropped it into Riley’s mouth. Riley hacked, his head swinging from side to side. Vomit erupted from his mouth—cheese, wine, blood, and an eyeball.

“Now you’re feeling true pain, true fear. I see it in your eyes… Well, I see it in your eye.