Souls Unfractured (Hades Hangmen, #3)(18)

I had to move. I had to get the f*ck away.

Then the boy stopped at my feet.

He reached out. He almost touched my leg. Then feeling the rage take hold, I roared, “NO!”

The boy fell back in shock. I turned. Hush and Cowboy were running my way. They ran past me and I saw the Hush pick up the boy. I saw Cowboy pick up the baby. They gave them to a woman on the street; she was speaking into a cell.

The screams were getting louder in my head, screams I couldn’t stop. The baby’s screams. The boy’s screams… f*ck, they were his screams… In my head, they were his screams!

“Stop!” I yelled, as AK and Viking rushed toward me.

When they reached me, AK held his hands up. "Flame, f*ck,” was all he could say.

My eyes snapped up. “I need blood,” I growled. “I need to kill.”

“They went north,” Viking informed. I heard the sound of a bike racing away down the road. I didn’t hesitate to f*cking move.

I ran to my bike. In seconds I was cutting up road, AK and Viking racing behind. I heard the truck, I heard AK calling my name, but I didn’t slow down. I had to kill the f*ckers. I had to kill the f*ckers that shot the woman. That made the boy cry. That made the baby scream.

Throat tense, I screamed as I burned more gas. And then I could see them. Two bikes up ahead. Two dirt bikes. Two white men on cheap shitty dirt bikes—the shooters.

I accelerated as we left the town limits, nothing but farmland came into view. No cars were on the road. There was nothing but me and the dead men riding ahead. The dead men I was closing in on. The ones that would pay for the screaming.

I was closing in. The men rode side by side. One of the men looked back. They tried to increase their speed, but I was faster.

My Harley closed in. I maneuvered to run beside the cunts. Their faces were filled with fear as they saw me run parallel to them. The look on their faces turned my blood to molten lava, scalding my veins. And I needed it out. I needed the flames to get out.

I needed to kill.

Lifting my leg, I kicked out, hitting the front wheel of the bike closest to me. The bike fell away, smashing it into the cunt on his right, both of them crashing into the roadside ditch.

The pricks screamed as they crashed onto the long grass. I slowed my Harley and, chasing back, brought it to a stop. The bastards were crawling, trying to get away. All I could see was red. Reaching into my belt, I pulled out my two favorite knives and closed in for the kill.

My nostrils flared. My skin was prickling with the urge to rip the f*ckers apart. To sink my blade into their flesh. To watch the blood spill on the ground.

I smiled in excitement, my arm muscles straining, holding my knives. They had broken bones from the crash. They couldn’t get away. They were mine to kill. Their lives were mine to take.

They panicked as they saw me approach. I licked along the edge of my knife, tasting the tinny flavor of steel in my mouth. My dick got hard. Got hard just imagining stabbing into their flesh. Hearing them scream. Hearing them scream like the little boy. The little baby.

I snapped.

I released a roar and dived at the first man I saw. Sending the blunt end of my knife into his face, I knocked him back and straddled his legs. Leaning forward, I watched his eyes widen with fear, and I smiled. I smiled, knowing my f*cked up face was the last thing he’d ever see.

Putting a knife between my teeth, I gripped his throat, pinning him down to the ground. I could feel his pulse under my hand. I could feel it racing.

I would feel it stop.

Raising my blade, I sent the first strike into his stomach. “One,” I hissed as the cunt’s back bowed. “Two,” I struck again, hearing the flesh tear under my knife. My heart pounded with excitement. “Three,” I growled as I hit his stomach once again. The cunt tried to move, he tried to scream, but I was blocking his screams. No more screaming.

No more f*cking screaming!

“Four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.” I hacked his stomach, his blood spattering my bare chest. The warm blood coated my skin.

The cunt died, his eyes glassing over. But I needed an eleven. Pulling my knife back, I raised it high. Then, with a loud roar, sent it straight through his forehead, splitting his skull.

Ripping the blade back from his skull, I jumped to my feet. The other prick was crawling away. My muscles twitched as I closed in. He heard me, and looking back over his shoulder, he called out. “Fuck, please. Shit, don’t kill me.”

I ignored his pleas. But he kept on screaming, shouting like a f*cking *. His voice incensed me.

He needed to f*cking die.

Leaning down, I gripped his hair, bending his head back to bare his throat. I didn’t wait this time, the need to spill blood burned too strong. Raising my hand, I sent the blade into his throat—once, twice, three times, four. And I counted all the way. I counted every strike, his blood splashing up my arms and down my cheeks. I counted from one to eleven until that f*cker was stone cold dead.

But the flames were still too strong in my veins. The kills hadn’t taken away the screams. The screams were in my head… his screams were in my head. Those loud screams. Then the quiet screams. Then the silence.

The motherf*cking silence.

Then I thought of his face. And I couldn’t touch him. When he needed me to touch him, I couldn’t. Because I was evil. I had evil in my veins.

The flames. They needed to be out. They all needed to come out. Finally, all of them, once and for all...