Them

To say Boris had never been more pissed off in his life was the understatement of the century. He had never harbored such murderous thoughts for anyone before, and yeah, you damn well better believe he was obsessed with Janelle Stone and bringing her down. Bring her down he would, if that was the last thing he ever did. There was no way in hell he was going to let her get away with killing his friend and shoving him off a hospital ward, or with kidnapping and torturing him and Detective Gilbert. Just no fucking way. He was enraged and humiliated as ever. The big question was how long this was going to go on? Also, what endgame did the sicko have in mind? His biggest fear was that they intended to kill them in the end. He had to stay alive at all costs because he certainly couldn’t take down Stone if he was dead. For the first time, he agreed with Stone, although for different reasons, and said fuck the law. He wasn’t going to wait for the law to catch her, try her, and convict her. Oh, no. This time, he wanted her all to himself. He wasn’t going to take his sweet time, though. He would get right to the point. He would beat the living shit out of her and then strangle her to death, getting his revenge and making the world safer. Janelle had a point, though. He had indeed been obsessed with her. That was because of his sheer hatred of the woman. He hated racists like her, especially after seeing what one of his black friends had to endure during his life. Janelle had been defiant and arrogant in every way, and that made him lean on her all the more. When she killed his other friend, he was beyond obsessed, insisting on smothering her with his presence in her hospital room and letting her know he wasn't going anywhere. He realized this was part of what had gotten Janelle off scot-free and with a hefty payment. It had been unprofessional, no doubt about that. He didn’t care, though. After learning of his friend’s death and watching the video, he wanted to send a message: hey, you thought I was obsessed with you before and always present and hovering over you — you ain’t seen nothing yet. Now there’s going to be no escaping me. That, along with other technicalities, had prevented Janelle from spending over a decade in prison, and then, if all went well, she’d be stuck with him as her probation officer all over again. He looked at the sick twist as she stuffed more chips into her fat face. God, was she hideous! Regardless of what she stood for and all she had done, she had always been fat and ugly and looked older than her age, but now she really looked bad. The fifty-three-year-old looked to be in her late sixties and had to be a hundred pounds overweight. Her hair was bleached blonde — unnatural looking as ever — and incredibly thin and stringy. He just couldn’t wait for the moment when her appearance would be the least of her concerns, if she cared at all. She probably did too, but pretended not to, according to how the psych experts had described the way she likely thought and portrayed herself. All of a sudden, he was ripped from his thoughts of revenge when the bitch yanked his gag aside. “Here, have something good,” she said, dangling a chip just above his mouth before pulling it away with laughter. Without thinking it through and acting on rage and impulse only, he spat at her. This made Stone’s own eyes darken as her amusement turned to sheer rage. Oh fuck, he thought. He was even more helpless than ever, restrained as he was. He braced himself for the blows to come and, sure enough, Stone dropped her bag of chips and rained her fists down on his face, screaming as two of the guys came charging down the stairs to see what was going on. “Bastard spat at me!” Janelle shouted to them over Boris’s agonized screams. “Get his gag back on!” Janelle ordered, running into the bathroom to wash off the spit. “What the fuck did you do that for, man?” one of the guys asked, careful not to get blood on him. “Please,” Boris muttered through bloody lips. “You guys gotta do the right thing and save yourselves. She’s crazy and she’ll kill you if you don’t get out now.” “Nah,” said the other guy. “She pays us too well for that.” One guy held Boris’s head down while the other yanked the gag back into place. “I swallowed a tooth,” Boris muttered, coughing up the blood in his throat. “Yeah, we see. Maybe you shouldn’t have spat at the lady.” “Yeah,” said the other one. “Ain’t no way to treat a lady. You should know that, man.” He slapped Boris in the forehead with mock playfulness, and Boris could hear the leftover chips crunch as the guy stepped on them accidentally. Boris sighed angrily and winced in pain. His nose was busted and his lips split. One of his eyes began to swell shut as he wondered how the hell he was going to get his ass out of the jam he was in. Part of him couldn’t believe it was happening in the first place. How did one crazy female wreak so much pain, havoc, and misery on so many people and their lives? How did she think she had it so rough? She didn’t know the definition of the word rough — at least not until he escaped, anyway. The question was how the hell he was going to do that with three men and a crazy woman with inhuman strength. He glanced over to his left. Gilbert was gazing at him with dark, watery eyes. She looked both sad and horrified. She was no doubt wondering how the hell they would escape. He tried to give her a reassuring look with his only eye that hadn’t swollen shut, but there was no way they could concoct a plan together because they were never left alone. Even if they were, he wouldn’t trust that what they said wasn’t being recorded. He was pissed for himself and felt bad for Detective Gilbert because of how hopeless and lost she seemed to be. It was as if she somehow knew neither of them would survive or be remotely the same if they did. Stone returned from the bathroom and studied his face with an almost fascinated look as she inspected the havoc she had inflicted upon him. Then she grinned maniacally. Boris coughed up blood in his throat and felt his breathing and heart rate pick up again as he glared at her with hate and rage. “Oh, look at that right there. There’s a busted little nose and a fat lip, too. Ooh, and even a nice big black eye. Sort of like what you managed to give me as I shoved you off the ward. Yeah, you managed to sneak in a little punch at me.” Janelle motioned to one of her own eyes. “I had a nice shiner there, and like I told the other lying officers that took over for you, you were damn lucky I didn’t press charges on you for that shit.” Boris uttered a swear under his gag, and Janelle laughed heartily. “Gee, that really hurts, Boris.” Boris whimpered in pain. “Oh, shut up,” Janelle said. “It could be a lot worse.” She motioned toward his manhood. “That shit can be cut off, you know.” She and the guys who were still in the room burst out laughing while Boris did his damnedest to hide the fact that he was terrified at the thought of that. He wouldn’t put it past the sick bitch to do it either. She certainly was crazy and vindictive enough. “It’s going to hurt to eat now,” Charlie said. “Yeah, and it’s going to hurt even more to piss if we have to apply any additional punishments,” Janelle added, nodding toward Boris’s manhood once again. "Remember that, Bory Bor." Boris tried to control his breathing and his pain. He had never been more terrified in his life. Never.