Never Fear (67 page)

There wasn’t nothing special about
that year’s stupid bitch. I started watching folk earlier, and I
had seen this blonde bimbo going in and out of Walmart with
different guys every fifteen or twenty minutes.

In between trips I snuck over to her
van and popped open the back doors. The damn thing wasn’t even
locked. I slid in under the seat and waited for her to return. I
didn’t have to wait long. Two or three minutes before she came
back, some nigger got in the front seat. I smelled skunk right
after and knew he was smokin’ weed.

I can’t stand that shit. Soon enough,
the van was filled with krunk... That’s what them colored folk
called it I think. She hopped in and I heard them shuffle around,
and soon enough his pants were on the floor. I know, ’cuz the belt
hit me in the fuckin’ face.

I shimmied back a row and
listened.

“
Baby, you want this big
black dick?” he said.

She replied something in her whore
language and agreed to fuck him with no rubber. Anyway, they
started buckin’ and fuckin’ and then my worst nightmare came true.
A small little voice broke through the moans.

Mommy, when do I get to be a big girl
like you? You said it feels so good and it helps pay the rent. I
want to help too Mommy, the little girl said.

“
Shit,” the darkie said.
“I wreck that little pussy. I’ll even slip you an extra hundo if I
can fill it up with cum.” That bitch said YES!

Soon enough, the poor little girl’s
clothes were on the floor. That was it. There was no fuckin’ way I
was gonna let this happen. When good ’ol Donnie Darko hopped back a
seat, I grabbed my K-bar and shoved it right in his
neck.

Sure, there was some screaming when he
sprayed the back seat with his fuckin’ blood. Did you know they
bleed the same color blood as the rest of us? I learned something
new... Ha!

Anyways, I sprung over the seat and
wacked that poor little girl’s face on the console and she went out
like a light. I hope I didn’t hurt her too bad.

Then, there were two!

I grabbed the queen-of-the-blowjobs by
the hair as she tried to grab for the driver’s door. I yanked her
back and immediately began delivering a barrage of closed-fist
blows to her dick-suckin’ lips. I heard some bones cracking as I
punched her. I had to get her out before I broke her all up. So,
there was always something I wanted to try.

I put that bitch in Sergeant
Slaughter’s Camel Clutch. I choked the shit out of her WWF style! I
couldn’t help myself. I started quoting Sergeant
Slaughter.

When I’m through,
scuzzbucket, they’re gonna scrape you off the walls with a
squeegee!

I even quoted his lines
from the
GI Joe
movie
.

This is for Falcon!
I punched her in the face.

This is for me!
I punched her in the face.

This is for Duke!
I punched her in the face.

And this is for the U.S.
of A!
I punched that unconscious bitch
right in the mother fuckin’ tits!

Then I started to feel like a goddamn
retard, so I threw her on the floor and hopped in the back to
finish off the baby-raper. I yanked the K-bar out of his neck and
gave him a little stabby-stab to the back of his neck. He was
mostly gone before I got back there, but it was a good time
anyways. Another sicko pedophile off the street!

I spit on the floor as I looked at my
handiwork. That sure when to shit quick. Now I had to un-fuck the
mess. Did I mention that I was covered in fuckin’ bright-ass red
blood? I was soaked. Jesus Christ I was so wet. I used my hand and
squeegeed the red liquid off my arms. I wiped the remainder on the
second-row seatback.

Ok, the plan was—

First: Get the keys from the whore
purse

Second: Drive the fuck-wagon to the
storage

Third: Impart some holiday spirit on
the slut

Scratch that.

Third: Tie up and gag the poor kid.
Can’t let her see the surprise early.

Fourth:
I
mpart some holiday spirit on the
slut

Fifth: Sedate the kid and deliver the
presents

Sixth: Merry Fucking
Christmas!

It pretty much went
exactly like that. I neglected to mention a few things that wiggled
into the plan as well. So I have always wondered what it would be
like to curb-stomp someone
American
History X
style. The problem was that it
looked like that guy got off too easy. This child-whoring-cunt
deserved worse. And I had an idea.

After I fed the poor little kiddo a
fistful of Benadryl and she was racked the hell out, I drug Mom’s
still unconscious body out of the van. It just so happened that
there was a nice curb near the door to my storage door.

It was nice and dark and I was so
pissed it didn’t matter. Anyways, I drug her outside. She was bound
and gagged, but I needed her awake for what was about to happen.
It’d worked so well the first time that, again, I snapped an
ammonia inhalant and jammed it up her nose.

Holy fuck, did she wake up fast!
HA!

I could hear her mumbling
away through her gag. Whatever.
Enjoy the
ability to talk while you can
. I knelt and
whispered into her ear. I told her that if she is absolutely silent
during what was about to happen, I would let her go.

OBVIOUSLY, I was full of shit! I ain’t
letting no baby-pimpin, gutter-slut live. She nodded yes and I
untied her gag.

Bite the curb, I told her. She looked
at me dumbfounded, like I said it in goddamn French. I leaned in
again. “Put your cock-suckin’ teeth on the curb—NOW!”

Stupidly, she did. I immediately
grabbed her by her hair and placed my knee on the back of her head.
I wanted to be close so I could hear this. I moved my hands to
either side of her face and pushed my weight slowly onto her
head.

Now, I gotta ask, do you know what
breaking teeth sound like?

Happy! That’s what!

As I pushed down I could actually feel
the bone teeth grind down the porous cement curb. Every once in a
while, a nice loud crack shot through the air as a tooth broke. She
howled like a bitch as blood poured from her mouth and pooled on
the curb.

Great, somethin’ else to
clean up
. Today was just full of
inconvenience.

Anyway, I had to hurry up ’cuz I had a
lot left to do. So I stood up and put a bit more of my wrestling
knowledge to work and gave that bitch a Hogan-Leg-Drop.
Unfortunately, I missed and slammed my ass cheek right on the back
of her head.

Oops—HA!

Her jaw popped right off her face. It
sounded like a tree branch snapped. It was awesome! I figured fun
time was over and drug her back inside the storage unit.

From there I just did what I did
before and hacked her up and put her in presents. With all the
crazy shit that happened in the van, I never even got the little
girl’s name. Oh well.

I delivered the presents dressed as
Santa again, just like before. This time, I just left a simple note
on the Justin Bieber wrapping paper.

Kiddo,

Merry
Christmas!

Santa

Oh—yeah—back to today.

I guess the real rookie move was when
I lit the van on fire under the bridge. I didn’t see that bitch
joggin’ ’til it was too late. By the time I saw her face lit up by
the fire, you stupid motherfuckers were already surrounding
me.

By the way, I’m not crazy. I would
have complied with anything you told me to do. I don’t like cops,
but my issue isn’t with you. It’s really about—

You know the real shit thing about
this entire deal? I did what I did because I give a shit about them
poor kids. I really didn’t give a fuck about them Moms. I made them
suffer because they deserved to fuckin’ suffer. Not them
kids.

I don’t give a fuck what you or any
other motherfucker thinks about me. I gave those kids the perfect
presents!

So, ho, ho, fuckin’ ho...

*

Darren leaned back in his chair,
rocking it onto two legs. His wrists were bound together by a shiny
pair of Peerless handcuffs. He still wore the now badly stained
Santa Claus suit. What a mess.

The detective whispered something into
his radio and stood.

“
Darren, you have a
visitor. She says she’s your lawyer,” the detective said as he
moved to the door. “I’ll be right outside.”

The detective walked through the door
and nodded at the attorney as she stepped into the room and closed
the door. As soon as she turned toward Darren, he could see she was
carrying a large, black leather purse. He gasped.

“
Mom?” he asked. “How did
you—”

“
Shh, we don’t have much
time,” she said as she raised a finger to her lips.

“
Time for what? I’m in
jail,” Darren said.

“
Oh, you know what I mean,
young man,” she said with a glimmer in her eye.

Hollie walked to Darren’s chair and in
seconds had his now stiff rod out. Without missing a beat she
climbed onto it and forced its length into her.

“
I wanted you to have the
perfect present, baby boy,” she said as she rode him.

What Darren didn’t see was that his
mother had grabbed a large-caliber handgun out of her bag. She held
it behind his head out of sight as she prepared for the inevitable
climax.

Darren’s face contorted as he finished
inside her.

“
I wanted you to have the
perfect present. I love you,” she said.

A loud
bang
broke the silence of their
embrace as the gun fired. Blood splashed on the wall to Darren’s
right. His body went limp. The door burst open and uniformed police
officers flooded the room and took her into custody.

The detective entered right behind
them. He surveyed the room. A Santa-suit-clad Darren lay dead on
the floor. His cock hung limp outside of the suit bottom and his
brains were splashed across the wall.

“
What a fucked up
Christmas,” he said, shaking his head. Looks like I’ll be late
tonight. Good thing I got my baby the perfect present.

A FAMILY CHRISTMAS
TERROR

CHAPTER 21

“
That was fucking
disgusting!” Dan said.

“
Sounds like
that
author spent some
time in a loony bin,” Grandpa added.

“
Yeah. That was twisted.
Uh oh. I think I’m gonna be sick.” Nick tried twice to get up from
the couch.

“
From the book or the
booze?” Grandpa asked.

“
Both.” Nick finally
stood. He fumbled with the book and tossed it to Dan. “Yeah,
I’m
definitely
gonna hurl. Like father like son.” He laughed and staggered
off.

The men listened to Nick make the
familiar sounds of his stomach emptying into the upstairs
toilet.

“
Well, you gonna read that
thing or just stare at it? We’ve got to finish it.”

“
All right. Don’t have a
stroke! I was looking where we left off.” He thumbed the pages.
“Here.
Santa Jack.
Maybe our Jack left too soon. I wonder—”

“
Just read,
Dan!”

SANTA JACK

F. PAUL WILSON

Friday

“
Thank God you’re here!”
Raymond said as Alicia walked through the Center’s employee
entrance. “I’ve been beeping you since eight o’clock. Why didn’t…?”
His voice trailed off as he looked at her. “Christ, Alicia, you
look like absolute, total shit.”

That was a somewhat generous
assessment of how she felt, but she didn’t want to talk about
it.

“
Thank you, Raymond. You
don’t know the half of it.”

She didn’t head for her office, but
toward the front reception area instead. Raymond paced
her.

“
Where are you
going?”

“
Just give me a minute,
will you, Raymond?” she snapped. “I’ll be right back.”

She regretted being so short with him,
but she felt stretched to the breaking point. One more tug in the
wrong direction…

She was vaguely aware of Tiffany
saying hello as she hurried past the reception desk on her way to
the front door. Stepping aside to allow a middle-aged woman and her
two grandchildren to enter, Alicia peered through the glass at the
street outside, looking for the gray car.

She was sure it had
followed her from home. Or maybe not so sure. A gray car—what would
you call it? A sedan? She didn’t know a damn thing about cars.
Couldn’t tell a Ford from a Chevy. But whatever it was, she’d kept
catching sight of this gray car passing her as she walked. It would
turn a block or two ahead of her, disappear for a few minutes, then
cruise by again. Never too close. Never too slow. Never a definite
sign of interest. But always
there
.